Spring Fever!
A/N: As the title suggests, this work of fiction is the result of spring fever….only it's my own. As this is my first real Les Miserables piece, I ask you to be gentle in the reviews, please. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Do you really think Victor Hugo would fangirl over a creation of Andrew Lloyd Weber….a particularly girly one at that? If so, then I want my money. If not, then please don't sue me.
Courfeyrac had always loved the spring time, but this spring day was particularly bright and sunny, in both a literal and figurative sense. It was the first time he had seen a truly beautiful day he had seen since moving to Paris, and he knew that it wasn't likely to last long, so he decided to enjoy it. He gathered up as many friends as he could and brought them out for a picnic in the Luxembourg. The friends that went with him were Joly, Boussett, for where would Joly be without his L'aigle, and Jean Prouvaire, affectionately called Jehan. Now, they had all met up under the maple tree that Prouvaire had taken a strange liking to.
"So, I was all set to sweep her off her feet, figuratively of course, seeing as Aunt Therese was there, when she stepped on my foot, with all the force she had..." The picnic had been going on for hours, and all but Jehan were listening to Courfeyrac's tales with anticipation and good humor. Jehan was attempting to climb the maple. If this continues on for much longer, he's sure to fall and hurt himself….but hey, he's not going to listen to me. Courfeyrac looked up, an amused smile coming easily to his lips as he saw Jehan succeed at pulling himself up the tree.
"Hey Courfeyrac! There's a pretty little grisette, walking straight towards us, coming from the Western side of the garden!" Jehan looked rather excited, as he had never actually seen Courfeyrac flirting. The petit-frère of the Amis was rather protected when it came to things like that. Not that Jehan didn't know about what went on when he wasn't about, but there's a huge difference between knowing something's happening, and actually seeing it happen. Courfeyrac looked in the indicated direction and saw a silhouette of a woman coming towards them.
"How can you tell she's pretty?"
"Maybe I have better eyesight than you!"
Courfeyrac just stared at Jehan after that, knowing that the poet was joking.
"Fine…an old spyglass comes in handy sometimes."
"Oh, you little rascal you!" Courfeyrac scrambled up the tree after Jehan, his clever tale forgotten in the prospect of charming a lady. After wrestling the spyglass from the poet, he laid his eyes on the fair lady. And fair indeed…she was a relatively tall lady, with raven black hair and eyes to match. And so it was…Courfeyrac was in love. But then again, it was the first day of spring, and he gave such things little thought. He slipped back down, straightened his cravat, and then ran over to meet the lady. Ah, the first love of springtime. Like the season itself, it is ever so beautiful, but sadly fleeting. Oh well, it's time to enjoy it before it's gone!
"Bonjour, Mam'zelle. J'mapelle Courfeyrac…."