With the absence of curves, and her hair pulled back into a delicate knot, it was hard to tell that Eponine was even female. But with the addition of trousers and an elegant waist-coat (both items she'd managed to slip away from Montparnasse's wardrobe), Eponine looks positively manly.

The high society parties were no place for Eponine the gamine, with her wide eyes and harsh words. She had lingered on the outskirts many nights, watching and waiting as pretty ladies left on the arms of handsome gentlemen. There was never jealousy there, just inquisitive curiosity. She would make up stories about the couples, be them old or young, and her entertainment would be sated for the night. But for Eponine the gamin, the lithe boy she liked to become whenever she donned the menswear, she felt at ease amongst even the snootiest of patrons.

Inside the ornate house, the girl leans against a wall, dark eyes sweeping the crowd until they land on the familiar blond across the room. Luckily the girl in question catches her stare and her pale cheeks flush as she looks to the ground. Eponine represses a sly smirk, yet she is proud of her ability to make little Cosette blush and she can only imagine how the rosy color covers the rest of her body. The smirk manages to show as she pushes herself off of the wall and makes her way through the crowd, trying to copy the haughty trot she'd witnessed whenever Montparansse would show off to the pretty grisettes on the street.

"Might I have this dance, mademoiselle?" Luckily, Eponine's voice is nowhere near feminine and sweet so it's hardly a problem to lower it another octave to sound a bit masculine. She bows in greeting, almost giggly when Cosette nods her approval and curtsies.

There are no eyes on them. There is nothing out of the ordinary — just a young boy asking a girl for a dance.

The two of them twirl amongst the others; Eponine holding Cosette as close as she can without offense. When they gain speed, Cosette's sweet laughter is intoxicating. "I think I need a bit of fresh air, monsieur," Cosette announces as the music flows into another slow song. Eponine nods and follows out behind the blond, keeping just enough distance as to not raise any eyebrows.

It's Cosette who leads into the darker corners of the garden and even more surprising, it's Cosette that grabs Eponine's arms and pulls her in for a kiss.

When the two separate, Eponine grins and pulls away, taking in the beautiful glow of light surrounding Cosette. "Aren't you being impulsive? Have you no fear?" Although Eponine laughs, the question holds true.

"I thought you preferred impulse," Cosette replies simply, a shrug following.

"If it's what you want, then I prefer it." Eponine litters small kisses across the other girl's cheek until she reaches her neck. A small mewl leaves Cosette's rosy lips and her hands flutter up, gripping at the cap Eponine wears. "No," she quickly warns, pulling away. Although, now Cosette wears a guilty frown and Eponine winces. "Don't frown, mon cheri," Eponine pleads, a smile breaking through. "I shall make you smile."

True to her word, Eponine begins to explore every bit of Cosette's exposed skin. She starts slow; kissing her cheeks and then her lips. She takes a moment to plant gentle kisses against her knuckles and finger tips. Then she moves to Cosette's collarbone, where she presses a bit of pressure there. Eponine carefully pulls at the fabric, lowering it just a bit so she can reach the swell of the perfect breasts. She bites and nips, smiling when Cosette's breathing grows heavy and catches in her throat.

"Is it proper to tease a woman?" Cosette asks, and Eponine looks up. The heat inside of her own being rises when she notices the twinkle in her eyes. Eponine presses her lips against Cosette's breasts once more before lowering herself to her knees.

It takes more time than Eponine anticipated, but when she finally has sight of Cosette's milky thighs, her own smile grows. "Don't keep a lady waiting," Cosette scolds, although it's through a laugh. Eponine nods, burying herself beneath the thick skirts. She plants kisses against the pale thighs, taking a moment to inhale Cosette's sweet scent. There is nothing like the way the lark smells of faraway lands and light — both things Eponine feels no familiarity toward. Without warning, Eponine presses a kiss against the apex of Cosette's body, pleasantly surprised with the heat that radiates from there. The woman in question moans quietly and shifts, moving her legs so she is braced against the wall. Eponine wastes no more time and she plunges her tongue into her sheath, shivering when Cosette moans in response. It's elegant; how Cosette shakes and mewls against the palm of her hand, hoping to muffle any sound.

Eponine laps up every inch of Cosette, and by the way the blond's legs begin to tense, she knows that the breaking point is nearing. With a smirk, Eponine pulls away and wipes her lips with the back of her hand. Cosette moans, more in frustration than pleasure.

"Vile creature," Cosette mutters, reaching to wipe a bead of sweat from her brow.

"I am no angel."

Eponine grins and moves closer to the other woman, her lips finding a spot on the swell of her breasts again. As her teeth bite down gently, she gathers Cosette's skirts up carefully and leans in, separating her legs with a knee. Cosette leans her head back and Eponine bites at her neck, feeling the tension there as she presses her fingers to the spot her tongue had been moments before.

"Are you smiling now, mon cheri?" Eponine questions, lips brushing Cosette's delicate skin.

There's no answer; just a quiet gasp in response.

She continues moving her hand against Cosette, pressing harder or softer each time she would respond with a moan. Time passes, and Cosette manages out a shaken breath with orgasm. She is gorgeous with a furrowed brow covered in sweat; her hair falling from it's oh so careful up-do. Eponine pulls her fingers away, wiping them against the inside of Cosette's dress, then reaches up to bring her face closer. Despite Cosette's heavy breathing, Eponine brings their lips together violently.

"Are you smiling now?" Eponine repeats, resting her forehead against Cosette's.

"Perhaps too much," she responds simply. Without another word between the two women, Cosette straightens her dress, trying her hardest to adjust the fabric to hide the evidence of their tryst. "And how do I look?" she questions, silently straightening the hat over Eponine's curls.

"Like a lady. A beautiful lady."