He knows damn well what he's getting into when he meets her and he knows it won't end pretty. His first night in the shitty apartment, the best he can afford on a political aide's salary, he hears screaming next door and doesn't bother to tune it out. It figures he'd have weird neighbors - heaven forbid he get any peace in this lifetime. He just isn't betting on things being as bad as they actually are.
The next morning - it's a Sunday - Enjolras decides he wants answers. It'd be nice to have an ally in the building, he supposes, and there has to be a reason he'd listened to a two-hour lovers' quarrel the night before. He never meant to get involved, but that was the kind of statement his road to hell was paved with. Good intentions? Try no intentions.
He knocks on the door, is greeted with a whimper, and lets himself in because why the hell not. Nothing can prepare him for what he sees. A sparse apartment, even less furnished than his own (which is currently full of moving boxes and various knickknacks from Ikea that he can't be bothered to put together), and what little there is has been strewn around. In the center, a woman about his age, curled in the fetal position on a threadbare rug. She's pretty, he thinks, but definitely not okay. So much for this being quiet.
"Hey," he says, kneeling down next to her. He's oddly tempted to touch her, but he ignores the impulse because it would be weird and because, even in her current state, she looks like she could do some serious damage. "You okay?"
The woman rolls over and uncurls a bit as she takes in the sight in front of her. She could swear the man in front of her is an angel, blonde hair and blue eyes and perfection in a t-shirt and jeans. "No," she says softly. "But it's not your problem, whoever the fuck you are."
He's really not sure how to respond, but formalities never killed anyone. "Sorry. I should've introduced myself. My name's Enjolras, I just moved in next door, and last night I heard…"
"The grand finale of my ex-boyfriend," the girl interjects. "Lucky you. Nothing says 'welcome to the building' quite like an implosion." Despite the dark tone in her voice, there's a small smile on her face, almost as if she's enjoying herself. She shifts into a sitting position. "Nice to meet you. I'm Eponine." She sticks out her hand and he shakes it, both of them holding for a few moments longer than necessary. "Thanks, though. For coming 'round and making sure I'm okay. Nobody's ever done that before."
He looks away for a moment, not sure what to say to something like that, before turning back and returning her smile. The instinct to hold her is definitely still there, and it's starting to seem more likely than it should. "It's nothing. Just trying to be a decent human being."
She laughs and, on impulse, leans in and kisses his cheek. "You're nice, mystery boy. I like you."
And so it all begins.