Little Acts of Kindness
Summary: Eponine has a secret admirer – secret only to her. All of the Amis know, even though her admirer thinks he is being sneaky. Her life is made easier and more exciting at the same time – but when will she ever find out who he is?
AN: For the birthday of my dear, dear friend Lily. She loves The Divine Comedy, and so I'm writing her a fic based on two of their songs: "Little Acts of Kindness" and "Everybody Knows (except you)"
The first time, she is in line at her favorite coffee shop, the one where she gets her way too expensive morning coffee before classes. The line is ridiculously long, as usual, and she is already in danger of being terribly late to her first class. Professor Javert is going to murder her if she comes in fifteen minutes late with coffee, but there is no way that she will be able to get through his three hour lecture without it. It's a Sophie's Choice that she has to make every week – and coffee always wins.
If the choice were between coffee and sex, it would be much more difficult to make it.
"Order for Epponine," the cashier calls out.
"It's Éponine," she corrects the woman without thinking.
She can count the times when the barista has gotten her name right on one hand and still have fingers left over. If the coffee weren't so amazing, she would have chosen a different coffee shop to frequent months ago. But alas, no other place can mix that hazelnut flavour exactly right, so she is stuck with Corinthe's Coffee.
"I didn't order yet," she tells the barista.
"This was ordered for you earlier this morning," the friendly blonde hands her the biggest cup that she has never allowed herself to order – because of money. "It's already paid for, by a particularly handsome guy. He didn't leave his name."
There is no time to interrogate the barista about the guy in question, not when she can be in time for class and have enough coffee to last her for most of the lecture. Javert will have no excuse to single her out now, and she likes it that way.
"Thank him for me next time you see him," she shoots over her shoulder, already on her way out the door. "And fingers crossed it's the right blend."
With her long legs in an easy stride, she makes it to class with plenty of time to sip her perfectly hazelnut-tasting coffee right in Professor Javert's face.
It's a good day to be Éponine.
The second time it happens she almost doesn't realize that someone is somehow helping her. She is at the café Musain trying to catch a glimpse of Marius when she feels the first cramps hit her. She mentally starts cussing up a storm; because she wasn't due to get this shit until Sunday! The cramping always starts a few days before the real party, so all she has to deal with at this point is the craving for junk food that she can never really get rid of. She would kill for some chocolate at this point.
She doesn't even care about stupid Marius right now. She just wants some dark and bitter chocolate melting in her mouth, temporarily releasing the endorphins that she so desperately needs. Fucking hell, this shit hurts!
It isn't easy to paste on a fake smile for the possible audience, but she manages it anyway – her pained grimace actually resembles a smile by the amount of practice that she has had with it. She is quite the actress. She has been taught well.
Reaching in the direction of the bartender – one of Marius' friends, Musichetta's brother – she almost slams her hand against a bowl. It's not her bad hand, fortunately, but it still stings for a bit. Until she actually sees what's inside the bowl.
Actual fucking chocolate. There is actual chocolate in her reach right now, just when she needs it – it's like someone read her mind and then pulled a Hermione Granger. Because let's be real, nobody does it like Hermione. Hermione's got skill, unlike some of the other characters in those books. Anyway – magic chocolate! Right next to her!
She takes a quick look around to check if anyone can see her take the damn chocolate, and when she deems the coast clear she sneaks her first piece, letting the bitter flavor explode in her mouth and trying to stifle a food orgasm.
The tiniest bit of a moan might have escaped, but she doubts that anyone would have heard that over the loud conversations and the background music. Some of Marius' louder friends are having some kind of friendly screaming match over something, and there is no way anyone would hear anything other than that.
So she slowly edges the bowl just a bit closer to her, bit by bit until it is right in front of her. This way, she can hoard it until all of the chocolate is gone and she feels better.
And she does feel a bit better.
They say third time's a charm, and they were right about that. It has been a week since her night of chocolate decadence, and she's almost screaming in frustration in the bookstore. They are all out of copies of the third book in her favorite book series – on its damn release date! She would expect them to have extras for this occasion!
There is some comment about possibly ordering it for her, but that is going to take another two weeks and cost her a few extra dollars she already can't afford. So she politely declines and resolves to stay away from the internet until she gets her next month's wages – and hope that her microwave doesn't break down like it has been threatening to for months now. That and her heating's been acting up. She is going to need that much more than some book, even though it's her favorite.
She adjusts the straps on her backpack and heads back to campus – there's another class she needs to be at in about thirty minutes, and although Professor Fauchelevent knows and likes her, she does not want to be late for that. It's her favorite class, and she could do with the cheering up right about now.
Her bag feels too heavy though, and there's something poking her in the back, so she stops and drops the bag, trying to figure out what the obnoxious weight is that she has to carry all of a sudden. She pushes aside her reader and her laptop to find a book that surely was not in there when she left home this morning. And it's gift-wrapped too – even though her birthday won't be for a few months and there are no other special occasions any time soon. Is this another thing from the kind stranger?
Waiting to open the package just seems stupid, so she tears off the paper with haste, impatient and clumsy with her usually so deft fingers. The wrapping paper tears everywhere, but eventually she manages to tear it away completely, only to find a book with a very familiar title sitting right there in her hands.
It is the very book she could not seem to get her hands on, the next book in her favorite book series – the one that so few people she knows have heard of. It is perfectly bound in hardcover, and has the beautiful cover art that she has been gaping at ever since the release date was announced. It is right there and it is actually hers, so she cradles it in her arms and waits for the idea to sink in. She owns the perfect version of this book!
She flips it open then, wanting to at least read the first words before class, and then she sees the post-it on the inside cover. Her heart stops.
Happy reading, Éponine
The handwriting is not familiar, but the kind stranger could easily be an actual stranger – or he or she could have asked someone else to write this. There are no clues to be found here, and she wonders who even knows of her love for these books.
Shaking off the thoughts clouding her head, wondering if the stranger expects something in return eventually, she cradles the book once more before gingerly placing it back in her backpack. She zips up the bag and gently hoists the straps onto her shoulders, feeling much happier to be carrying the heavy weight.
She had thought it would end after the third time, as some sort of Pay It Forward idea that was supposed to remain secret. She was not expecting anything more from her kind stranger, even though her new favorite book is shelved in a place of honor. It looks immaculate, even after half a dozen readings of the text – she is not one to treat the few gifts that she gets so carelessly. She treasures them.
So when the doorbell rings, she isn't expecting anything other than another visit from a family "friend", come to persuade her to work with her father one more time. She jiggles her lock a little, cursing how easy it would be to break, and checks the peephole – knowing that she will not open the door if Montparnasse or anyone of his criminal friends are out there.
Well, it isn't a criminal, but it sure as hell isn't someone she wants to see either – her super never shows up without some kind of stupid ulterior motive, and she is not in the mood to deal with his shit. Still, she is kind of obligated to let him in.
The door opens slowly, and then he throws it open completely, pushing his oily body into her apartment, reeking of cheap lotion and cheaper booze. She gags a little.
"Mister Felix," she uses the title instead of just his first name.
"My dear," the man smiles that oily smile. "I heard my services were necessary."
With that, she actually comes close to throwing up in her mouth – wishing that she could throw up on him. Alas, that would get her kicked out faster than she could clean up her mess, so she'll take deep breaths and hope this visit is over soon.
"What did you hear exactly?" she sounds harsh, ready to kick him out if necessary.
"I've been informed that there are several things broken in your apartment that need fixing," Mister Felix flexes his muscles, and she frowns. "I'm here to do the fixing."
Oh, what the fuck changed from the last five times that she informed him that her lock was half broken and the heating was on again off again? There are many things wrong with her crap apartment, but she can't afford to move. So she stays, even though almost nothing works and the extra blankets aren't always enough.
"Can you start by checking the heating?" she is biting her tongue, trying to stay polite.
"Of course, darling," the sleazy wink just makes it worse.
If he weren't in a position of power she would smack him so hard his ears would start ringing every time he was in a two-mile radius of her. But alas, that's not happening.
She wonders again exactly what made him change his mind all of a sudden, without any involvement from her. She wonders again if someone's gotten a hold of him and explained how vital it is for her to have decent heating – and she wonders if it was 'Parnasse trying to do her some twisted kind of favor. Also, he'd be doing himself a favor since he always ends up crashing on her couch somehow. She never opens a door or window for him, but he still enters her apartment through some means. The tool.
Speaking of tools…
"This looks like a pretty easy fix," the other tool is fiddling with his toolbox.
Of course, that's why he didn't do it the first fucking time she asked. She swears her father actually runs a more efficient business than this guy, and that's saying something.
"You can call off the dogs now," Mister Felix is trying to sound blasé.
"I don't have any dogs to call off," she reminds him.
So there was someone else who finally got this asshole off his ass. She still suspects it might be 'Parnasse or some of his stupid cronies, but she doubts that Mister Felix could come out unscathed from that kind of encounter. He looks properly terrified, but there are no visible knife scars – so it must be someone else.
Who would be badass enough to terrify this pumped up asshole?
He finds the man afterwards – because he has got to make sure that the reprehensible creature did a decent job of fixing up her apartment. If having to talk to this piece of excrement could be avoided, he would be at home, thinking of other ways to make her life easier. But alas, he has to check up on this Mister Felix.
"Is it done?" he asks, hiding in the shadows as much as possible.
After all, his plan would be much more difficult if Mister Felix actually got a decent look at him. He is not normally a creature of mystery, but he has to be if he wants to make this project the success it needs to be. She deserves it.
"The lock's been fixed and the heating works," the man sounds properly terrified.
"Good," he makes sure his voice is dark and deep.
In this moment, he kind of feels like he is a superhero or some kind of vigilante, hiding in the shadows of this dilapidated building as his filthy informant gives him the necessary information on his current mission. Oh, he probably should not have watched that Batman movie again, but he knows no other way to learn how to be so sneaky in this very special mission. He was born to stand out, somehow.
"If I catch you harassing her, I will find you," he leaves his final warning.
Really, it is surprising how intimidated this guy is by him. He is rather new at this mysterious benefactor thing, and having to keep it a secret from the woman he is helping only makes it more difficult. He has undertaken this difficult quest all alone, and he does not intend on the object of his affection ever finding out about his feelings. It would only make her angry, and even though she is beautiful when she is angry about something, and he would like to see her passion directed at him again – he has decided that it would not be right to force his feelings on her like that.
The damn alley is a dead end, so he has to either climb up and over a fence, or he has to wait for that disgusting piece of filth to leave the alley and go back into the apartment complex that he is not managing properly. He cannot be found here.
While he waits, he can think on what he can do for her next. She should have a safe apartment by now and a little more money to take care of her necessities. Most of the basic things he has the power to work on without her noticing have been taken care of, but now all he has left to accomplish is to make her more than merely content – he has to try to actually make her happy in whatever way that he can.
If staying away from her makes her happy – as he suspects it does – he will just stay away from her. He can still help her from a distance, and he will do so. His next idea is only moments away, and he knows that he can accomplish it.
The sight of her sister will surely make Éponine happy.
She is ready to dropkick Enjolras straight into hell, because how dare he use her personal information like this! She told him about Azelma in confidence, and her sister showing up at her door and not wanting to tell who arranged the visit was a dead giveaway that it was another big plan from her kind stranger – who did not turn out to be so kind, or be all too much of a stranger.
It was Enjolras all along! That fucking asshole!
"I can't believe you'd interfere in my life like this," she storms into the Musain, hackles raised and not even caring who hears what she has to say. "Who gave you the right?"
The lunch rush has come and gone, and it is not yet time for dinner, but the place is still rather full with students coming to have coffee and food after their afternoon classes. In total, there are about three dozen people now staring at her – but she can deal with that because she can see the golden curls that she is looking for.
"Enjolras, she's obviously looking for you," Grantaire places his friend in the line of fire.
"Why would she be looking for me?" Enjolras plays the obtuse idiot rather deliberately, and she wonders how he could ever think his stupidity is still a secret.
She just pointedly raises an eyebrow and watches him flounder, getting so much enjoyment out of seeing the usually unflappable Enjolras almost tripping over his own feet in order to apologize to her for the stream of stupidity. It is nice to be the one in power for once, so she makes no effort whatsoever to relieve the tension.
"Why would you have my sister show up, you asshole?" she feels like smacking him.
"You mentioned that you would like to have a better relationship with her," Enjolras no longer tries to hide that he is the one responsible for that particular disaster. "I was merely attempting to make your life more pleasant."
As always, he has disgustingly good intentions with his actions – it is just a shame that he rarely stops to think about the consequences for those other than himself. He just hears something and he remembers it, but he does not always grasp the nuances – so he can be thoughtful and ridiculously stupid at the same time. He fixes things and screws them up indiscriminately, and he does not know when to shut the fuck up.
His friends may see the golden boy, but she sees someone who is just as much of a mess as she is – and she hates him for passing for normal so well. Her feelings for him are not as easily defined as just hate, though that is not something she wishes to think about.
"I liked the small gestures," she has to admit, shrugging as if it isn't a big deal. "But you really fucked up on this one. What were you even trying to do here, and why?"
The defeated look on his face is not one that she sees very often, not on him. He is a fighter, and he will keep fighting until his last breath, but somehow there is something that he's giving up on here. Of course she is not in the slightest bit curious about that – her lies to herself have gotten more and more obvious the closer she has been to him.
And she has been much too close to him much too often.
"I was trying to make my feelings known," Enjolras actually sounds sheepish.
No! He has no right to do this!
"I care very much about you, Eponine," he continues, even though she has frozen in fear, stuck to the ground. "I wanted to make your life easier. I guess it's because I like you."
She will not be stupid and ask him if he like likes her, because she can already see on his face that he does like her in that way. And it is the stupidest thing he has ever done, worse even then that time he got arrested at a protest and managed to piss off the arresting cop so much that they wouldn't let him post bail. This is so much worse.
Why would he do this? She doesn't want any of these feelings. They need to go!
"Don't," is the only word that she can choke out at this point.
And because she knows that there is nothing left to say after that, she runs. Well, she gracefully and slowly steps back and walks away from the asshole who just had to confess his damn feelings for her. Damn him! Damn his feelings!
Even though Azelma is waiting for her at the apartment, she would rather be there than face Enjolras for even a second longer.
He walked around like a dejected and rejected fool for a few weeks before Combeferre confronts him about his big failed mission.
"It's time to talk about this, Enjolras," Combeferre sits down next to him.
"I do not wish to discuss any of it," he frowns and waits for his friend to leave.
Combeferre knows him too well to leave, so he merely resigns himself to talking about his romantic feelings for Éponine. He has discussed his romantic feelings with Combeferre before, because he has never felt this way about anyone else but Éponine.
Romantic feelings are extremely confusing – he would have preferred it if she had never become aware of his feelings for her, since it is quite obvious that she does not share these feelings. He would rather have continued with his little acts of kindness without her ever finding out it was he making her life easier.
"Then you should have been a bit more subtle," Combeferre grins wryly, and he's trying not to be angry about that. "We all had bets going on how long it would take Éponine to figure out it was you. Grantaire thanks you for the hundred dollars."
Anyone but Grantaire! Damn it, his friend does not need the extra money to purchase even more alcohol! If only he could make him spend it on painting supplies, because his friend is talented when he is not trying to self-destruct.
"Why did you not tell me that you knew?" he asks.
"You obviously did not want me to know," another grin from Combeferre. "Your sneaking around could do with some practice, though."
What? He was so careful not to get caught plotting or arranging things for Éponine, but somehow his friends still figured him out.
"Coffee for… Enjolras?" an unfamiliar voice speaks his name.
Why would anyone have coffee for him at the bar, coffee that he has not even ordered? It is so very strange to him, because how would it – oh. Wait a second. This is pretty much the exact same thing that he did for Éponine.
"That's me," he stands up and looks for the delivery boy.
"That took you longer than I thought it would," Combeferre is following him, obviously trying to get a front row seat on what he expects to be an exciting moment.
The delivery boy is not anyone he knows, just a random teenage boy bringing him a cup of coffee that smells better than any drink he's had over the last year or so. He may be a bit of a snob about coffee, so he rarely drinks anything that is up to his standards – however, this cup at least smells like real coffee is supposed to smell.
"Here you go, sir," the boy hands him the cup and walks away.
He knows better than to ask the guy for any information – it is already pretty obvious that this is merely Éponine's idea of revenge. Since it doesn't seem dangerous, he takes a small sip of his coffee and quickly finds himself in beverage heaven.
"This is the best coffee I've ever had," he stares at the cup in his hand, stunned.
Combeferre grins at that, before offering up the next gift in his hands. It is a roll of candy, a type of candy that he knows and loves and never shares with anyone.
"She would share with you," Combeferre speaks. "Would you share with her?"
Those damn Rolo candies, the perfect mix of caramel and chocolate, and notorious for being difficult to give away. He never managed to do it, before. He wonders if his feelings for her are strong enough, and then shakes his head because he knows they are.
"How did she rope you into this?" he asks his best friend.
"All she had to do was ask," 'Ferre is smiling. "She's good for you."
It would be easy to get snippy about this, but he finds he does not wish to do that, especially not seeing as he has spotted waves of dark hair from the corner of his eye – he has to make a pretty sharp turn, but he finds her eyes almost immediately. They are sparkling with mirth, but he can tell that she's more than a little nervous about what is still to come. Still, he will be waiting for what she has to say.
"Did you like the coffee?" she is stalling the important parts of this conversation.
"The coffee was magnificent," he hesitantly smiles at her. "Would you like some candy?"
Holding out the Rolo to her feels natural, and while he can feel the surprised gazes of his friends, he ignores them in favor of watching Éponine blush as she accepts. She pops the candy in her mouth with a shy grin and he does the same.
There is silence as they both focus on the delicious piece of candy. It seems so weird to have such a private moment in front of everyone, and he, the normally so bold Enjolras, cannot seem to get a single word out of his mouth. For all the times they have fought and yelled at each other, they are quiet and shy now that there are emotions on the line.
"I'm your third gift," she seems to gather up what's left of her famed courage.
"You're my favorite gift," he stammers out a line so cliché he is almost embarrassed.
The snickering from the peanut gallery is a little bit of a letdown, but still he steps in closer to her and presses a kiss on the back of her hand. He hears her gasp and looks up at her, knowing that she is about to get crude to take back her title of resident badass.
"Your dick could be my favorite gift," she grins at him and he rolls his eyes.
This might be the end of their little acts of kindness, but it is only the beginning of something much more important.
THE END!
AN: Lily, I hope you have a great birthday! Love you!
Everyone else: go wish Lily a happy birthday!
