Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Enjolras huffed in frustration as he fixed his mask. It was 11pm on New Year's Eve and Jehan had decided that he just had to throw a massive party for the evening. A massive, masquerade costume party in fact and then he personally went around to everyone to approve their costumes.
Enjolras hated this idea with a passion but it at least served his purpose for the evening, complete anonymity. It also gave him the courage to finally act on his feelings without the fear of being rejected afterwards.
He spent several hours deciding on his costume, taking in all of her interests and attractions into consideration. He wanted to show her that he had been listening to her when, in reality, he hung on to her every word.
His Eponine loved Regency and Gothic fiction, works from Bronte, Austen, and the like. She carried those books around with her as if they were a security blanket. They were dog-earred from her teenage years, wrinkled from exposure to the elements, and yellowed with use and age. They had creases in the covers and corners torn on the back cover but she refused to let anyone replace them. She said that they were the copies she grew up with, characters that she brought into her life and to replace them would be the equivalent of replacing a child's favorite doll.
Because of this he had chosen to come to the party as Mr. Darcy, probably because it was the character he could relate to the most. Sure, he related to the stern, gentlemanly manner of Mr. Rochester but Darcy's way of caring for Mr. Bingley and his sister hit very close to Enjolras' heart as well as his very personality. Darcy always had to act a certain way, live up to certain expectations much like himself. And then when a person, such as Elizabeth or Eponine, whirled into his life it upset the carefully constructed balance he had set up. He never viewed pride as being Darcy's downfall, but his strict adherence to the authority he created for himself. It took someone like Elizabeth to make him realize that there was more to life than propriety and family standards. He understood how Darcy felt when he was confronted with love for Elizabeth. It was outside normal allowances and he didn't know how to cope with that. At first he pushed her away and then tried to declare himself in a manner that was unforgiving and harsh. It was a moment that showed how vulnerable his character was; although Enjolras knew no one else would see it that way. They wouldn't see that for the first time in Darcy's life he didn't know what to say or how to respond. Darcy finally got it right in the end, and thankfully, after reading about Darcy's misadventures Enjolras was glad to bypass declaring himself in a foolish manner. No, he hoped tonight would be his moment in the field, the declaration that went right… even if Eponine never figured out it was him underneath the mask.
Enjolras clutched his flower tightly. Another one of Jehan's brilliant ideas was that every guy that wanted to ask a girl to be his date for the evening had to present them with a flower. He, for some reason or another, found the idea terribly romantic and inflicted the torture upon his party guests. Enjolras found it incredibly cheesy but, for the sake of his friend, he would do it and, damn it, he would do it to the extreme. He researched flower meaning until he had come up with the perfect combination of things he wanted to say and how he felt.
In the end he felt that he came up with the perfect combination; Larkspur for her beautiful spirit, Heliotrope for everlasting love, and finally, a Star of Bethlehem for hope. They were all unique, obscure flowers which was perfect because he didn't want to go the easy route with roses or tulips. Those flowers just had no thought to them and overly pretentious, they were flowers that men just bought because they were too busy and it was the first thing they grabbed at the flower market. He also made small labels for the names of the flowers to attach at the bottom, just in case.
His eyes searched the room looking for her. He finally spotted her, standing next to Musichetta. She was dressed in a familiar blue dress with a white apron. Her hair was pulled back in an elaborate ponytail with her dark curls cascading down her back. It was easy to recognize her character and Enjolras didn't try to hide his smile at her choice. Belle was not only her favorite childhood character but the one she related to the most with the love of reading and being the outcast. Enjolras would also add standing up for her family and her compassion and strength to the list since they were some of the best characteristics of Eponine. Just seeing her there, in a matching blue half-mask made him want to wrap her in his arms and hold her close. He wanted to twist his hands in her curls and play with the ends as he danced with her, feeling her shiver into him and the gentle tugging tickled her senses.
He adjusted his mask one more time, fidgeting with it due to nerves instead of actually needing to correct it and pulled down his vest before walking over. He knew exactly what to say to her. He walked up behind her and leaned over, His voice soft and for her ears alone.
"And to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."
He was close enough to hear her suck in air in surprise and he had to hold back a chuckle and catching her unaware. She turned and he was rewarded with her lovely honey brown eyes wide in alarm and intrigue as she recognized the quote.
He tipped his head in a manner befitting a gentleman before presenting the entwined triplet of flowers, "May I have the next dance?"
Eponine's eyes twinkled in mischief, "That depends. Does my partner find me barely tolerable?"
"Most ardently, madam." He answered, holding out his arm.
Her soft smile warmed his heart as he led her out onto the dance floor. He pulled her into him and began the basic box step for a waltz with his hand resting low on her back and his other holding her hand in the appropriate distance from their bodies. They moved together in tandem, slightly stilted in the first dance before they settled into a rhythm by the second. By the third they were completely relaxed in each other's embrace and he could finally take notice of her proximity to him. How her hair was just long enough to brush the top of his hand, tickling and teasing him or how he could feel tiny puffs of air on his neck. He could feel her completely at ease in his arms and see her eyes closed in content and he noticed that his arm had moved so that their clasped hands were on his chest. By the fifth dance his hand has risen, too tempted by her brushing curls, so that his fingers were lightly running through the ends as they danced together. The sensation must have been pleasant because during the course of the fifth dance Eponine was resting her head on his shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment and, for once, he hoped one of his camera happy friends captured this moment.
The dances after that blurred together until Jehan announced that the time. They had two minutes until the New Year and Enjolras wanted to walk away so she didn't feel forced to stand beside him as the clock rung midnight.
He stepped back abruptly as he heard Jehan announce forty-five seconds, shocking her, "I have to go, thank you for the dance and I hope you have a wonderful new year."
He turned to walk away. He was slightly disappointed to feel the harsh cold against his chest from her absence and that he didn't have the courage to tell her it was him.
"Enjolras, Wait!" He stopped and turned. She walked towards him and everything faded around him, the ten second countdown a murmuring white noise.
8….
"I didn't get to thank you for the dance." she said shyly.
2…1…
She stood on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. His eyes slid shut against the onslaught of emotions and he stopped himself from swooping in and claiming the kiss.
She stepped back and smiled, "Happy New Year, Enjolras."
He gave his own smile, a smile that mirrored her happiness, hope, love, and promise for them in the coming year, "Happy New Year, Eponine," he said as he took her hand in his and met her lips in another kiss.