Rated T for consumption of alcohol. Because, you know, Grantaire.
They called him the man of marble. They named him Apollo. They said his only loves were Patria (la belle France) and liberté. He was always at the head of the cause, making speeches, rallying the troops, planning, plotting, recruiting.
Enjolras didn't have time for any emotion other than patriotism, they said. He will never change, they added.
Eponine wouldn't know, personally - when Marius was in the room, she tended not to notice anyone else. Who would want to look at anyone else - even if it was the famed Apollo himself - when one could look at Marius? All she knew of Enjolras was that he was the leader of Les Amis de l'ABC, and that he would probably end up getting Marius killed. For this reason she was, naturally, distrustful. But nothing had happened yet, and she was with Marius, and all was right with the world.
And then came the girl. Marius was smitten instantly, and instantly, Eponine knew she was in for a broken heart. He was such a dear fool - he'd asked her to find out the where his "angel" lived. She'd said, Yes, of course, and promptly headed for the Café Musain, where she knew he would be later. She knew where the angel lived already. Right now, she just wanted to ease the pain of her breaking heart.
Grantaire was thrilled to have a drinking partner who could match him glass for glass, and she was fair drunk by the time Marius arrived. He made a beeline for her, but was stopped by a group of Les Amis, including Enjolras. She narrowed her eyes at their backs and set down her glass, letting their conversation wash over her.
The fearless leader, the man of marble, was going on about needing a sign to begin their rebellion. Eponine held back a snort. What was he waiting for, fireworks? The longer they waited, the less likely it was that they would actually begin anything, much less a revolution.
Now Grantaire and Joly were teasing Marius about having his head in the clouds. She decided to let them have their fun - he deserved it, for acting like such a dolt. Grantaire threw out the phrase "in love," which sent a tiny pang through her dulled heart. She raised her glass to her lips, but it was empty. She set it back down.
"It is better than an opera!" Grantaire finished with a grin.
Eponine watched as Enjolras crossed over to the smaller group of young men, reprimanding them and reminding them of what they fought for. The man of marble, indeed, she thought, amused. He has no room for love in his revolution. Enjolras stood to leave.
Marius stood as well and began defending himself, saying that if only he had been there, he would understand what love did to a man. The rest of Les Amis joined in, mocking Marius, but also throwing Enjolras's words back in his face. He looked as if he wasn't sure whether to be disgusted or furious. Eponine could practically see the impatience coming off him in waves. Well, perhaps that was the fault of the wine - she was fairly certain she'd let it go to her head.
"Who cares about your lonely soul?" Enjolras snapped at Marius, and Eponine silently agreed. "We strive towards a larger goal. Our little lives don't count at all!"
And this was the reason she didn't like Enjolras, she remembered. Because he would probably be the death of Marius. Well, she amended, either him or the father of his precious angel girl.
"Listen, everybody!" Courfeyrac called. Eponine looked up and saw her little brother standing near the door.
"General Lamarque is dead," he reported.
Perhaps she was imagining it, but she thought Enjolras fair lit up at this news. "His death is the sign we await!" the young man cried. Quickly, he began laying plans for their revolution.
Eponine watched as Marius was slowly drawn away into the group of plotting rebels and sighed. She knew, from prior experience, that this would be going on for a while. But she'd promised to show Marius where the girl lived, and so she would.
First, though, she was going to convince Grantaire to separate with that bottle of wine he had for a bit.
They were still talking. Eponine was bored out of her mind. Grantaire had shared, yes, but they'd been talking so long, she felt she'd not had enough to be patient. She tried to distract herself by watching Marius, but now it was poisoned by the knowledge that he'd given his heart to another girl, and so was not as effective as it might have been otherwise. Grantaire had been pulled into the discussion at last, and was therefore unreachable. She decided to go get a breath of fresh air, standing up on wobbly legs.
Once she was outside, the light breeze stirred up her now-sluggish brain once again. She didn't have to despair just yet. Perhaps, when Marius actually talked to the girl, he would find her less wonderful than he'd thought, and then he would come back to her, to his Eponine. She put her back to the wall and slid down to the ground. Who was she kidding? Marius would never love her. Not when he was in unending raptures about this girl whom he didn't even know. A tear slipped down her cheek; she did not try to stop it. The tear turned to more tears, and the tears to sobs. She sobbed for Marius. She sobbed for herself. She sobbed for the whole wretched mess that was her life.
There was a surprised cough from behind her. She lifted her tear-stained face to see the man of marble himself, looking less like marble than usual.
He'd only agreed to help because Marius was throwing himself into a panic and generally making a nuisance of himself - something about how if he didn't find Eponine, he'd never be able to find the love of his life, or some nonsense like that. He'd just agreed to get him to shut up and then gone outside, because if he heard Marius say the word "love" one more time while he was trying to get things done - !
He hadn't expected to actually find her outside. He also hadn't expected to find her slumped against the wall of the café, sobbing as though her heart was broken in two.
He was fairly certain she was drunk; he'd seen her begging drinks off Grantaire all night. Actually, he'd been a bit surprised - she usually never left Marius's side (they called her the Shadow, out of earshot) and yet she'd come to the Café Musain and immediately struck up a conversation with Grantaire.
"What - what do you want?" she hiccuped, scrubbing at her eyes vigorously. He eyed her coolly.
"You'll just make it worse if you rub at it," he remarked. She stopped scrubbing immediately. "Marius was looking for you."
Instead of leaping to her feet, as he'd expected she'd do at this piece of news, she laughed bitterly and leaned her head back against the wall.
"Of course he is," she said. She was speaking rather quickly, though as he had never had a conversation with her, he didn't know if this was the fault of the liquor or how she normally spoke.
"Aren't you going to go to him?" he asked with a touch of asperity. He needed to get Marius to shut up so he could get on with his planning. Eponine looked up at him again.
"You have somewhere better to be, then? Les Amis cannot function without you?" she said with a low laugh.
"I told Marius I would look for you, mademoiselle, and I intend to return you to him as well," he said, folding his arms over his chest. This girl - this drunk girl - was not going to get the better of him.
"Yes, return me to Marius like a package he has lost. Why don't you do that, man of marble?"
"Well, you are not a package," said Enjolras, surprising both of them. Quickly, he added, "We strive for a free France, after all. Liberté, égalité, fraternité," as if excusing himself, then cursed inwardly.
Eponine was eyeing him with a strange expression on her face. "And so the marble cracks," she said softly. "There is flesh underneath."
"You are drunk, mademoiselle," he said shortly, holding out his hand. "And Marius is waiting for you. While he waits, he drives the rest of us to madness, so if you please, you ought to take him off our hands."
She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. "Now, mademoiselle," Enjolras said, "please remove Marius from the premises, so that we may get our revolution planned without him extolling the virtues of his unknown love." And he smiled - just a little.
A/N: Okay, so this is my first Les Mis fic, don't hurt me! *ducks* I've been reading a lot of Enjonine stuff lately, and the song "Red and Black (ABC Café)" has been stuck in my head for the last FOUR DAYS, so I decided to do something with both of them together. My absolute favorite bit in that song is when Enjolras goes, "Who cares about your lonely soul?" so that needed to be in there.
Updated because of some editing stuff.