Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables, I only own Lynette. I would like to thank my Muse for planting the image I describe in my head; I love it and am often reminded of it.
Lynette slowly opened her eyes. It was still dark outside, but her muscles ached due to the uncomfortable position she had fallen asleep in. She registered that someone had covered her with a blanket. She then noticed someone lying on the couch – Bossuet must be staying over again – and someone sitting by the fire, absorbed in the book in his lap.
She smiled as Enjolras thoughtfully flipped a page. As he sat there, a golden hue cast over him by the fire, he truly did look like the Apollo Grantaire always compared him to. She saw his icy blue eyes intently fixed upon the page, slowly scanning the page. She finally stretched her aching muscles, and stifled a yawn. She stood up, and slowly walked towards the fire, the blanket wrapped around her small frame. Enjolras looked up when she put the kettle on.
"You should try to catch some more sleep, ma petite," he said softly. Lynette simply smiled, pulling a chair to the fire and pulling her knees to her chest.
"Don't you need to rest before your lecture?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"Yes, but preparation is more important than rest," he replied. "You, on the other hand, have no excuse not to be asleep right now." Lynette chuckled.
"None, except the fact that I was not in the most comfortable of sleeping positions," she replied. Enjolras simply shook his head, and continued reading. Lynette enjoyed the comfortable silence, which was only interrupted by Enjolras turning a page every now and then. When the water boiled she made a cup of coffee for the law student, and a cup of tea for herself. Enjolras took the black liquid gratefully, and watched Lynette curl back into a comfortable position on the chair.
"What time is it, anyway?" Lynette asked casually.
"The clock struck six just before you woke."
"How long have you been home?"
"We arrived home shortly after midnight."
"Did the meeting go well?"
"Courfeyrac brought a pupil," Enjolras replied, frowning slightly. "Monsieur Marius Pontmercy. A law student. A Buonapartist. I am not yet certain what to think of him."
"Do you not trust him?" Lynette asked.
"I trust Courfeyrac's judgement; I trust he would not have brought the boy along if he did not believe him trustworthy." Lynette nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on the fire as Enjolras continued. "Perhaps I should just observe the boy over the next couple of meetings, perhaps I will get a better impression of him." She looked away from the fire. Enjolras still had the book in his lap, but his icy blue eyes were now fixed on the fire. He seemed lost in thought. His angelic features were thoughtful, his eyes distanced. He finally looked back at Lynette.
"You should go back to sleep for a little, Lynette," he said softly. "However much I enjoy your company, I know that you cannot have slept very well in that armchair." Lynette nodded.
"Just let me finish my tea," she said, taking a sip from the hot liquid. Enjolras nodded and, reminded of his own cup of coffee, he also took a sip. When they both finished their drinks, Lynette quickly rinsed the cups, and after a quick word of goodnight to Enjolras she laid down in her bed. The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes, was the sight she had woken up to: a studying Apollo.