A/N Okay, this is a one shot for the 50th reviewer of A Different Version of Events, Love and kill, who requested some E/E. just a bit of fluff.
MASSIVE shout out to RedHeadsAreAwesome who made me this stunningly beautiful cover art!
Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent - Victor Hugo
The apartment was dark and still when Enjolras arrived home from work that night. He stilled, pausing from hanging up his jacket and toeing off his work shoes, confused as to the absence of his other, and unquestionably better, half.
Eponine had moved in with him some months before and usually he would be greeted home by the sound of her singing in the kitchen as she cooked or the sight of her curled up on the sofa, laptop open, pounding away at the keyboard as she worked on an essay. Now, there was nothing.
His worry mounted when he saw that her car keys were on the hall table and her coat and shoes in their proper places. If she was definitely in, why was there no sign of her?
"Eponine?" he kept his voice quiet, but it still sounded loud in the seemingly empty apartment. Only silence met him…no wait. He moved soundlessly towards the bedroom and gently pushed the door open.
The curtains were closed, but a sliver of orange light from a street lamp crept through a gap, illuminating the other person in the room. Eponine sat with her back propped against the headboard, one leg tucked under the other, her fingers plucking listlessly at the strings of her beloved guitar. There were no outward signs that she had noticed his presence, but he knew she had, she always knew when someone entered a room.
She sometimes joked that it was it was a left over side effect from her days of being knocked around by various people, that she always had to know who was there and where they were. Enjolras had never found it funny, always sensing the bitter undertone to the flippancy.
Shaking off his thoughts, he advanced upon the bed slowly and carefully. "Are you alright, 'Ponine love?" The endearment rolled off his tongue easily, so different from his normal words of wrath and fire.
"Why do you love me?" Her fingers stilled on the strings, but she did not look up to meet his eyes. "You call me 'love', you asked me to move in with you, you said that you loved me. Why?"
Enjolras frowned and sat on the edge of the bed. Eponine occasionally had bouts of under confidence, and doubted all of those around her, but this was different. "I love you because you're you." He said the words as if they explained everything.
She shook her head slowly. "Why on earth would you want to love me? I'm nothing. The daughter of a con artist, the scum of the street, an ex-thief, a nobody. I couldn't be farther from what you deserve."
Enjolras felt his heart ache at each of her words. Did she truly think so little of herself? With a pull of his arms he adjusted his position on the bed so that he was leant on the head board next to her, their shoulders touching. Reaching out a hand for her guitar, he gave her a questioning look, seeking her permission. Gently, almost reverently, she passed him the instrument, shifting slightly so he had room to play, her hair falling in a midnight curtain across her face to shield her from his gaze.
Flexing his fingers a few times to warm the muscles, Enjolras pondered what he should play. They had had this ritual for a while now; whenever one of them was uncertain what to say, wanted to cheer each other up, or just for the emotional closeness, they would use music, either played in the guitar or sent in playlists to each other. Though some may call it cheesy or sappy, neither of them saw anything wrong with it.
He knew the instrument so well by now he could play the chords without even needing to look at them, instead focusing on Eponine, who had drawn her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her whole posture uncertain and defensive, as he began to sing.
"Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me, but bear this in mind it was meant to be. And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks and it all makes sense to me."
Her head slowly lifted, her eyes endless dark pools in the low light.
"I know you've never loved the crinkles by your eyes, when you smile you've never loved your stomach or your thighs. The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine, but I'll love them endlessly." He flashed a gentle smile, keeping his eyes on hers, trying to convince her of his love and her worth with his words. "I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth. But if I do, it's you; oh it's you they add up to. I'm in love with you, and all these little things."
She shifted slowly so her head rested on his crossed legs, her lips fluttering with the beginnings of a smile. Enjolras smiled back at her, his fingers coaxing the gentle tune out of the taut strings of the guitar.
"You can't go to bed without a cup of tea, and maybe that's the reason that you talk in your sleep. And all those conversations are the secrets that I keep, though it makes no sense to me."
They shared a smirk, both of them recalling the fact that Eponine did in fact talk in her sleep, a source of endless amusement to Enjolras.
"I know you've never loved the sound of your voice on tape. You never want to know how much you weigh. You still have to squeeze into your jeans, but you're perfect to me."
To Enjolras delight, Eponine joined him in the repeat of the chorus, her voice low and rich, mingling with his slightly higher but gentle voice perfectly.
"I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth, but if it's true it's you, it's you they add up to. I'm in love with you and all these little things."
Enjolras locked eyes with the woman in front of him, cerulean blue meeting rich brown as he let his heart bleed through in the next words.
"You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you. And you'll never treat yourself right, darling, but I want you to. If I let you know I'm here for you, maybe you'll love yourself like I love you."
He let the words hang in the air for a moment, his heart swelling at the burst of emotion that appeared in Eponine's eyes. He didn't care that his throat was tightening with emotion or that tears pricked at the back of his eyes. Here he didn't have to be the Fearless Leader, The Marble Lover of Liberty, or Apollo…
Here, with her, he only had to be him. And so he didn't mind the slight huskiness in his voice as he finished the song, his voice raw and honest, and his eyes showing his heart.
"And I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth. Because it's you, oh, it's you; it's you they add up to. I'm in love with you, and all these little things.
I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth, but if it's true it's you, it's you they add up to. I'm in love with you, and all your little things."
As the last delicately plucked notes floated away into the air, a light silence fell between them, neither of them saying anything, nor moving. At last, the moment was broken as Eponine rolled over slightly and rested on his legs, her hands folded beneath her chin. "Thank you." She murmured, catching his gaze and holding it.
He reached out a gentle hand and ran his fingers through her long hair, loving the silky texture between his fingers. "You're welcome." Her eyes drifted shut at the movements of his hands, but opened again when he stopped, her eyes meeting his serious gaze. "Never doubt that I love you. No matter what changes in this unstable, ever-changing world, know that my love for you is constant."
"Not all of us are born with your capability for belief, 'Jolras." She placed a gentle kiss to his palm. "But trust me, I will try."
The silence fell again, comfortable and full of unspoken words that the two of them understood without them being uttered. Just as Enjolras was about to leave the bed, somewhat reluctantly, Eponine spoke again, the familiar look of mischief on her face once more. "You do realize that you just serenaded me with One Direction?"
Enjolras stiffened and gave her a haughty look down his nose, a look he had perfected over the years. "It was written by Ed Sheran. I am absolved from all blame."
Eponine giggled and shook her head. "I never had you down as a fan of boy bands."
He poked her in the side. "It's one song. Also, it goes without saying that if Grantaire or Courfeyrac, or anyone really, finds out about this, I will destroy your collection of Sharpe films."
Instead of being intimidated by his threat, she simply smirked and moved up his body to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "Don't worry Apollo; it'll be our little secret."
A/N I regret nothing. I don't regret using One Direction. I don't regret the serious OOCness of Enjolras, or the emotional descriptions of eyes, voices and glances. I don't.
Oh, well let me know what you think.