There he was, her Marius, he was there, sitting with his new wife Cosette. He was cradling her in his arms, trying to calm her from the loss of her father Jean-Valjean, who was holding her hand right now, dressed in the angelic white garb usually worn by the good dead folk, although Eponine preferred her old trench coat. But he was there, his curly mass of black hair in front of her, reminding her of her death and their kiss…
Oh, how she wished she could touch him!
Fantine was staring lovingly at her daughter, reaching out to her as if she could touch her. Eponine did the same. Maybe she could reach…
But she couldn't, and she knew it. She'd never been able to touch him, even when she was living. All her life Marius had never noticed her love for him, never seen a thing, and then the dreadful Lark had come back and they'd fallen in love and all her chances with him were destroyed.
'Ponine didn't hold a grudge against Cosette for it though, not at all, she just missed Marius.
She bent down and softly whispered in his ear a few of her dying words.
"A breathe away from where you are…"
Eponine was there, breathing on him, speaking to him, but he couldn't feel her. He couldn't sense her presence. She was dead and he was living, but she would always love him in her terrifyingly passionate way, till the end of eternity. By then, they would be together again, God willing, and although their chances at love had been crushed Eponine still would remember that final action of hers forever. She had kissed him; to die without that one moment would have been torture. And she still felt the warmth of his lips on hers, her dying feeling, the last sensation that she had felt…
And he was here…and she was here too, a breathe away from where he was.
This was where her home was, next to Marius, beside him, and this time she wasn't imagining his presence like she had used to, he was here, in front of her. She smiled softly.
She was finally home.