A/N:

What's up, people! This is my first fanfic so I hope ya'll would like it.

Let me know what you think

Chapter 1

He disliked her.

The new waitress at the Café Musain irritated him beyond belief. No, he hasn't met her officially, nor has she had a disrespecting tone towards him. He hasn't even said a single sentence to this woman other than, "I would like a coffee please, black, two sugars." It's just that she makes him feel so unimportant. Me? the leader of Les Amis de I'ABC, unimportant? This idea would be scoffed at, he was always the important one, the one who catches all the attention; Then why hasn't this woman noticed him?

She's already fairly close to the rest of the Amis. She laughs with them, she drinks with Grantaire, listens to Joly's rambling about germs and illness, playfully spars with Bahorel, she sings songs with Jehan with all the feeling of a lovesick puppy, she even flirts with Courfeyrac! But why hasn't she even talked to him?

Okay, he hated her now. He hated the way her hips would move and how her copper hair would fall into unruly waves that cover her face when she looks down. He hated how she would run her hand through it making more of a mess of it than it already was. He hated her green eyes and how much fire and passion hid behind them. He hated the way she laughed, how it sounds like she's gasping for air, and then she would try to suppress it, causing her shoulders to shake uncontrollably, and then clap a few times before finally letting it out. How she dressed in a way that was truly far from lady-like; she never wore skirts or dresses or bright-colored tops. He noticed that she lived a life of ripped-up jeans, band shirts, sneakers, beanies, and aviator shades. He hated the way her pale skin contrasts perfectly to her rosy cheeks and pink lips making it harder to resist them than it already was. And that smile, he hated that smile especially, how even a slight movement of her mouth would cause the dimples on her cheeks to appear. He hated those dimples too, by the way. Those goddamn dimples.

"Enjolras? Yoo-hoo? Marble man?" he hadn't noticed that Combeferre had been calling him to attention.

"Yes, 'Ferre?" he replied coolly as if he hadn't been off daydreaming.

"Dreaming of your Patria while staring at the new waitress, I see." Combeferre said smirking and crossing his arms at his friend who was now turning red and wide-eyed.

"I was definitely not staring at her, 'Ferre." Enjolras shot at his friend defensively as Courfeyrac pulled a chair beside him.

"Who couldn't stare at her? I mean, she's hot, smart and cool." Courfeyrac stared dreamily at the woman who was now serving beers to the customers with a sweet smile and an occasional giggle.

"What do you think of her, Enjolras?" Bossuet piped up; now the whole Les Amis had joined the table. Enjolras opened his mouth to say something but was quickly cut-off by a very drunk Grantaire. As if a drunk Grantaire is new to any of them.

"Oh, Bossuet," He waved his hand at his bald friend. "Haven't you learned anything from our dear friend?" Grantaire pointed an accusing finger at Bossuet. "There is no such thing as 'WO-man'!" At the word woman, he held up his fingers in a quote and quote and rolled his eyes mocking the word as he tried his best Enjolras voice impression. As Enjolras scoffed at this, the rest of the Amis laughed so hard they nearly choked themselves.

"You're exaggerating R, I do know a thing about women, and I know enough to never get tangled in that kind of mess." Enjolras rolled his eyes at the drunk who took another swig out of his bottle.

"Bah! I bet you would be nervous as hell once you try speaking to one!" the drunk shrugged and slurred his words. "Imagine our leader, so brave and courageous; but can't even talk to a woman without a waterfall of sweat down his forehead."

The Amis snickered and giggled. Enjolras had enough of this and went back to his book.

Grantaire lifted his bottle and obnoxiously waved it around.

"I need another-"

Grantaire spoke up but was quickly stopped when someone had taken away his empty bottle and replaced it with a new cold beer. "-beer.. HA! That's my girl! Always knows when old Grantaire needs another bottle!" He chuckled as he took another swig.

"How are my boys doing?" A voice of a woman from the background had piped up. Enjolras looked up and saw the same girl he'd been staring at just a few moments ago. Her copper hair was now a in a loose ponytail with a few strands wildly out of place. She wore a tight grey tank top and tattered black jeans. The Amis replied with

"Oh we're fine, now that you're here!"
"You look amazing!"
"So you're the reason R's been a little drunker than usual."
"Sit with us!"
Among other inaudible welcomes. These men were surely excited to see her, huh? All Enjolras did was stare.

Grantaire caught the way his friend was eyeing this woman and immediately sparked up an idea.

"Hey Enjolras! I just remembered, you haven't met this fine friend of ours, have you?" The boys started to snicker and began to catch up with Grantaire's idea. Oh how they loved getting under Enjolras' skin.

Damn it, Enjolras cursed internally, but externally his expression didn't waver. The woman smiled warmly at him and held her hand out quickly.

"Hi, I'm Thalia Genevieve. You can call me Thalia, or Tals; whatever suits your liking, monsieur." She smiled wider. Damn those dimples. Enjolras didn't know what to do or what to think. He just stared at her for a few seconds, blinked and went back to his book, "Hi." He managed to get out without daring to take another look at her.

She frowned, and put her hands on her hips, then knitted her eyebrows.

"What? Can't shake my hand? Why? Want a kiss already, monsieur?" At this, Enjolras' eyes darted up and stared at her in shock and disbelief of what she just said.

"I-"

"We'd have to shake hands first and meet formally before we share a kiss or two, you know?" she smiled without shaking eye contact. He could feel the boys suppressing their laughter. Bewildered, he turned red as a tomato, and knitted his eyebrows together, what in the world is this woman saying?

"I do not want a kiss, mademoiselle."

"What? Not a kiss? Oh, I see, you want to have sex with me already!" she looked at him in mocked shock. The boys began to snicker and Enjolras' jaw snapped open at her words, but still kept his expression stern.

"That is too fast of a step, monsieur, we just met! Someday, maybe, yes. But not now, not yet, because…" she began to slowly ease her face closer to his. The tension began to rise and even the boys shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but amused nonetheless.

"As I said, monsieur…" she put a finger under his jaw and forced his mouth shut.

"It all starts with a handshake." She took his hand, winked at him and shook it once. He swallowed hard and a bead of sweat had appeared on his forehead. Keep your face neutral and stern, Enjolras, damn it. He thought.

But Thalia could see through any act. She straightened up, satisfied with how uncomfortable she made the poor man, and started to tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

"Well, I'll see you boys later, still have some work to do. It was nice meeting you, monsieur." She waved her hand in a small salute, scoffed and went on her way. That'll teach him not to snob me, she laughed to herself.

Enjolras was left dumbfounded and red-faced.

The Amis on the other hand had finally let out a burst of laughter they had suppressed the whole time.

"Very smooth, marble man."

"Shut up."

Sassity sass sass sass.