If I Loved You
By: RainingBarricade
Disclaimer: I don't own Les Miserables. Written in Enjolras's perspective.
If I loved you, I wouldn't have been intrigued by you the moment I laid eyes on you. I wouldn't have watched you silently, wondering what you do and who you are, as you talked to Marius, your eyes lit up with happiness, something that I wish I would be able to do. I wound't have stared at you as you walked away from him.
I wouldn't have just stood still and let you leave without even a hello.
I would have asked Marius about you, I would have introduced myself the next time I'd see you at the Musain.
If only I loved you.
If I loved you, I wouldn't have just stopped that man from doing the unforgivable to you. I wouldn't have stayed silent as you told me that you didn't need anyone's help, with your hidden tears gleaming in your eyes.
I wouldn't have let you walk away.
I would have held you close and let you cry into my red coat, the one that you would, later, be wearing as I walked you to my apartment.
I would have watched you as you finally succumbed to sleep on my bed, which I insisted that you sleep in, and tuck a lose strand of hair behind your ear.
I would have done all of that, if I loved you.
If I loved you, you would not be standing in the shadows, eyeing the man that you claimed that you loved. You would not be looking at him with so much sadness and hurt hidden in the depths of your dark eyes.
You would be close to me, listening to me practice my speeches, telling me where I could improve. Telling me how to make the people rise.
Your eyes would light up with the fire in the depths of your soul, burning for the people who have faced the injustice that you have, as you tell me what to write.
If I loved you, you would not be disguised as a boy, to help fight in my revolution. You wouldn't be here to make sure that the man you love is safe, that he will have the letter from his true love.
You would be fighting with the other women, to keep the injured alive, to help give more gunpowder. You would be fighting beside me, with me, to keep the both of us alive. To keep our love alive.
If I loved you, you would not be dying in the arms of your beloved. You would not be gazing at him as if he is the light of the world.
You would be tending to my wounds, crying because I jumped in front of you so that you wouldn't have gotten shot. You would call me foolish and reckless to try and save you, yet it wouldn't matter because you know I would have done anything to keep you alive.
Your tears would flow even more when I tell you that you are the light of my world, that you are everything I fight for.
I would have told that you are, and always will be, my revolution.
If I loved you, you would not have died in the arms of someone else.
I would be in your arms, my body slowly bleeding out, when I would finally admit that, yes, I do love you.
Because I do. I love you.