HOME IS WHERE YOU ARE
Marius's phone called Éponine at seven a.m. in the morning. Normally she'd be jogging, out in the woods taking photos, or just doing anything to stay away from home. But today she was tired. Not from any physical exertion, but just tired of life. We all have those days.
She fumbled for her phone and flipped it open. "Hello?" she croaked. She didn't know what to expect in return.
"I knew it." Enjolras said. "I knew you'd pick up if you thought it was Marius."
"Really, Enjolras? Really?" she sighed, but a faint smile appeared on her lips.
"Really. Hey it's freezing out here, can I come inside?"
Éponine jumped off her bed and went to the window, peering outside. Her eyes caught a rather ugly station wagon.
"Is that you in the—"
"Yeah. And it smells. I would invite you out here but this is some pretty powerful stuff." She could almost hear him wrinkle his nose and furrow his brows.
Éponine laughed. "Come on in, then. Just be careful where you park your erm…metal steed and try to keep quiet." Her mother slept very lightly and had a killer sense of hearing.
"I'm always quiet." he chuckled softly, the phone went silent in her hand and at the same time Éponine's bedroom door opened to reveal an amused Enjolras.
Éponine raised an eyebrow. "Huh."
"I live to surprise." Still smiling, he shut the door noiselessly behind him. He was wearing scuffed jeans, a blue plaid shirt, and a white t-shirt underneath. He looked famous and respected, simply from the way he held himself and the way he stood. Éponine had the feeling that he'd look that way wherever he was, even if it was in her plain bedroom. His eyes swept the room.
Walking over to her small dresser, he picked up her cross, fingering it. The simple gesture gave Éponine the strange feeling that he'd done it hundreds of times before. She frowned, a curious light dancing in her eyes; the sight was unfamiliar in her head and didn't quite fit the Enjolras she knew.
"I was an altar boy. Imagine that." Enjolras laughed, his eyes distant and swimming with memory.
"Hmm…You'd be a cute altar boy." Éponine pondered.
At this, Enjolras turned to look at her. A strange glint she couldn't name flashed in his eyes, and he cocked an eyebrow. Éponine leaned back onto her bed.
The bed sighed as Enjolras lay down beside her. He smelled of shaving cream and wooden furniture. It was strangely familiar and comforting.
Éponine closed her eyes. "How's Marius doing? And Cosette?"
"The lovebirds? Doing what they do best. Love each other and annoy the hell out of the rest of us with their PDA." Enjolras replied.
Éponine laughed aloud. Her laugh sounded like bells tinkling in the wind, and always brought a smile to Enjolras's face.
She opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "You know, Enj? It makes no sense…but I like Cosette."
Enjolras arched his back and curled up to get a look at Éponine's face. "Come again?"
She kept her eyes glued to the ceiling. "I like how she is with Marius. They look good together. And although I've always believed in it, I've never actually seen love…not really. Not until I saw them together. Love is… so beautiful, Enjolras."
Enjolras looked at Éponine with a curious look on his face, and then leaned back down onto the bed. They lay there for several minutes, in silence.
Éponine wondered about love. She felt a longing for what Marius and Cosette had, for the love they shared together. For someone to look at her the way he looked at Cosette, for someone to kiss her tenderly, for someone to love her too. Doubt washed over her. Want and doubt rivaled each other in her heart, and she brushed the thoughts from her mind. She felt guilty and furious with herself.
Enjolras broke the silence. "Sometimes, I think about calling home."
Éponine shifted her gaze to Enjolras. He was staring at the ceiling, too.
"I think that maybe I'll just call my mom and tell her I'm okay. And tell her not to worry about me; she always worried too much over everything. And to tell my brother, Andre, that I'm sorry he had to grow up without one. And maybe tell them that I'm not dead, but I'm never coming home."
There were no words of comfort for this, and Enjolras did not want any; so the two of them just lay there, finding comfort in each other's presence.
After a long silence, he sat up. "I'll go."
"Enjolras, do you think I'm lovable?" Éponine blurted out.
"As in 'cuddly and'?" he asked
"As in able to be loved," she sat up, looking at him.
His incandescent blue eyes, flickering even in the dim light of morning, held her warm chestnut ones, steadfast and sure. He saw brokenness and fragility in hers that she had never revealed to anyone else before. "Maybe," he said. "But you won't let anyone try."
Éponine closed her eyes and swallowed a shuddering sigh, a mingle of relief and worry.
"I can't tell the difference between not fighting," she said, "and giving up." With this, she laid back down onto the bed. Even with her eyes tightly shut, a single, hot tear snuck out of her right eye, running down her cheek. She was so angry that it had escaped. She was so angry.
Beside her, the bed tipped as Enjolras leaned his weight on it. She felt his breaths on her face, even and comforting. One. Two. She didn't know what she wanted. Three. Four. Then his breath stopped, and a heartbeat later she felt his lips against hers.
It wasn't the sort of kiss she had ever had. Not even with her ex, Montparnasse, who had been the gentlest of the sorry lot that were her past relationships. It began as, as almost a child's kiss; two confused butterflies bumping against one another. Then it changed, but it was still so soft; as soft as a happy, happy childhood memory, his lips were so careful on hers it felt like he was running his fingers along them. It was a quiet whisper, not a shout. Enjolras's hand touched her neck, thumb pressed to the skin next to her jaw. It wasn't a touch that said I need this, but one that said I want this.
He tasted like the sweet promise of morning.
The room was still, you could hear a pin drop. Neither of them dared to breathe.
Enjolras sat back up, slowly, and Éponine opened her eyes. She kept her lips pursed, wanting to keep the kiss inside her, to store it for a rainy day. His expression was blank, the one he wore when something was important, but his eyes. His eyes were so, so soft. Full of something Éponine couldn't put her finger on.
He held onto the memory of the kiss, a fragile bird in his hands.
"That's how I would kiss you, if I loved you." His voice rang with a timber Éponine had never heard.
Standing up, he retrieved his car keys that had slid out of his pocket when he'd leaned over. He didn't look at her when he left, shutting the door silently behind him.
Éponine waited and listened. For a long time, Enjolras didn't walk down the steps; instead he just stood there, right outside her door, trying to collect his thoughts.
Éponine closed her eyes, her thumb touching the spot on her neck where his had been moments ago. It didn't feel like fighting or like giving up. She hadn't thought there was a third option; and she would never have guessed that it'd have anything to do with Enjolras.
She exhaled, her breath long and noisy compared to the earlier sweet, silent kiss. Then she got up and opened the door.
A/N: Hope you liked this one! I really really like this one heh.
Sorry if it's a bit OOC, I think I may have added Aaronjolras accidentally…not sure. But I couldn't resist! Hope it's not cliché either..
COMING UP WITH A TITLE FOR THIS ONE WAS SO. DAMN. HARD. so in the end I used a line from the song I was listening to when I wrote this (Aaron Tveit singing Seven Wonders)
Please tell me what you think! If it's complete cr*p, please tell me! Or I'll just keep trashing the Enjonine tag with my horrible wordvomit~ teehee
PS: This convo is mainly inspired and from a scene in Maggie Stiefvater's book Forever :) I ADORE Maggie Stiefvater and that convo was too good to lose! So I molded Eponine and Enjolras in Isabel and Cole's place and softened their characters (they aren't as cold and harsh as cole/isabel), fluffed it up a bit, and changed a few parts here and there and ta-daa~