Thank you all for the follows and reviews! I appreciate every one of them. As a reminder, I am also updating on my tumblr andhotcoffee. Now to continue on this journey...

II.

It will keep you up all night
And in the flood of morning light

It was nearly nightfall when the carriage carrying Eponine and Enjolras finally made it to Toulouse. The town was well chosen: not quite big enough to be a city, it was also not small enough for the news of two strange new people moving in to be the talk of the town. It still wasn't clear about who they would pose to be.

It was decided by them both, Marius included, that it wasn't necessary to change names or go to great lengths to conceal personal habits. They needed to be off the map for a while, not disappear altogether. Eponine was gifted two modest dresses from Marius: one pale green and the other a navy blue. Enjolras had made a short stop to his old apartment by the university and only grabbed a few items. Between them both they only had two carpet bags and a small trunk.

The house was to be furnished, according to Marius, so not much was needed. In addition to her two new dresses, Eponine only brought a thin nightgown, a pair of previously owned satin slippers, one pair of good shoes, a hair brush, and a few small toiletry items. All of these were provided by the same people who had saved her and Enjolras' life, supplemented by Marius and his new found wealth. Enjolras brought the same: a couple sets of clothes, one set of shoes, and seven of his own books. It was all he retrieved from the apartment.

He had also left his red jacket behind.

Other than their few personal items, one of the bags contained a set of bed linens, four plates, two sets of cutlery, two candle sticks, and a few gold pieces to ensure they would have food until a means of employment was found for them both. Eponine was urged to not revert back to her old habits of getting by; it would only attract attention if she were to be arrested for stealing or using her feminine wiles.

The first glimpse of his new home by Enjolras was seemingly promising. It was a small house, only one floor, with a dirt road running in front and a very small fenced in area in the back. The walls had once been meticulously whitewashed but now had a layer of dirt and grime on the outside. The shutters on the windows were light green, and a few sprigs of wildflowers were growing at the base of the house. It was modest, small, and looked as though it would be warm in the winter.

They would only be having two neighbors, both a little ways away. About a half mile from the house, just visible over a small hill, was a home almost identical to the one previously described but slightly larger. The carriage driver informed Enjolras and Eponine that a middle aged couple lived there, alone, because their only son had just moved to the neighboring town with his new wife. There was another house, unseen by them both, that the driver also described to them. It was more of a shack than a house, he told them, and was home to a very old man who had survived some war that had been forgotten by everyone else.

The driver unloaded the trunk for them, noticing Enjolras' arm, then bid them adieu and drove off. This was it, they were left alone, and neither one said much.

They both stood still where they had stepped off the carriage, each one not quite willing to be the first to step into the house. Enjolras locked his gaze onto the front door and once again slipped into remembering the barricade. He was only partially aware of the girl beside him sighing, grabbing the two bags, and (not very gracefully, he noticed) she flung the door open, threw the two bags inside while holding the door ajar with her small foot, and gestured for him to follow.

Once inside Eponine had ended her silence, quickly appraising her new home.

"Well, look, two fireplaces! I've only ever had one, you see, besides a long time ago in my father's inn. This place is nicer though… I'll be damned, real glass in the windows! Looks like Monsieur Marius knew what he was doing."

She continued to speak both to Enjolras and herself as she walked around. Enjolras observed in a quieter fashion.

The room they had just walked into was moderately sized, smaller than Enjolras was used to but better than he had predicted. A small wooden table that looked to be freshly scrubbed was in front of him with two matching chairs pushed in on either side. On the far end of the room was a fireplace, another small table, and several cabinets. The walls were brick painted over white, and much like the outside walls looked like they had seen better days. There were two windows on the right wall, and as Eponine had pointed out, did indeed contain real glass.

This main room, however, was only half of the house. It was separated by a wall on Enjolras' left side that was only as long as half the room, leaving a portion by the kitchen area open to the other side. Slowly, and reluctantly, Enjolras made his way to this open portion to see the rest of the house. Now facing the opposite way as when he first entered the house, the first thing he noticed made his heart drop.

There was only one bed, pushed against the side of the wall with a small table and a wicker chair situated beside it. Eponine, apparently unaffected, was already exploring the back yard. The second fireplace was in the middle of the wall and smaller than the one in the kitchen. There was a set of drawers set up against the partition wall, a window at the far end, and another wicker chair beside it. On closer inspection, in the area behind Enjolras, there was a very small room that contained a metal tub too small to bathe in and a wooden bucket. This, he assumed, was to be used for the well that the driver had told them about. Luckily it wasn't too far, only a mile or so to the east. Eponine found her way back into the house. Seeing the uncomfortable look on Enjolras' face, she didn't linger and instead went into the kitchen.

Taking advantage of being alone, Enjolras placed his clothes in the top drawer of the bureau and his books on the desk. Looking into the cold fireplace, not quite knowing how to even begin living this life, he adjusts his sling with a cringe.

"Monsieur?"

He turns to see Eponine, in the blue dress that was previously mentioned, sticking her head around the partition with a shy smile on her face.

"I have the food out, if you're hungry."

Enjolras only nods and follows her into the kitchen, pretending to adjust his sling again in an attempt to avoid conversation. If he had to pick just one person to not only survive the barricade with, but to also be his new house mate, Eponine wouldn't have even been on the list.

He wasn't hungry at all, still trying to banish the images of blood and musket fire from his mind. He thought to himself, Why am I here? I was prepared to die… I was supposed to die… His blue eyes, once strong but now pale, fixated on the food Eponine had laid out on the table. It was what Cosette had hastily given them, by way of Marius, right before they left Paris. Some cold chicken, a loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese, two potatoes, and a jug of wine… Enjolras was about to refuse, but heard Joly's voice in the back of his mind, "Come now, dear Apollo! We can't have the leader of the Revolution perishing because of hunger. Do not be foolish, at least have some bread!"

"Forget the bread, mon amis, have the wine! Trust me, it will help!"

Fantastic. Now he is hearing Grantaire as well. But of course he isn't! Enjolras, he tells himself, they are all dead. Stop being a child!

His internal conversation is interrupted by Eponine, who he realizes has been trying to get his attention.

"Come on, Monsieur, I cannot eat all of this myself!"

Enjolras relents and sits in the other chair, his back stiff, and nibbles on a piece of cheese and bread. Eponine isn't shy, going for the chicken first and then the wine. He supposes he should eat, after all. It didn't make since to refuse food when he is trying to heal, the ghost of Joly reminded him of that. This decision was also made because of the girl across from him, still with hallowed cheeks and hunger in her eyes. How would he look if he refused? Not eating food when it is placed in front of him wouldn't just be foolish, it would also be insulting. It was one of the reasons he fought, yes, so that the poor could eat?

Enjolras, painfully admitting to himself, realized that at the current moment he didn't quite remember what it was all his friends had died for. The Revolution, the people of France…. but the barricades were not a success. Did that mean they died for nothing? After a few bites of food he muttered to Eponine that he was going to find the well and retrieve some water, not yet ready to drink the wine.

Spilling out across your room
You say the words will get there soon

Enjolras took his time getting the water, finding the well easily but not hurrying back. He tried to block his mind from thoughts of Revolution and his friends. What were their last words? Jean Prouvaire had said "Vive l'France! Long live the Republic!" he knew this, of course, but started to become frantic when he realized he couldn't remember the rest. What kind of man was he, really?

By the time Enjolras wondered back to the house, the daylight was disappearing beyond the horizon and a few pale constellations were visible in the sky. Struggling, he opened the back door and placed the wooden bucket in the small alcove like area. Walking into the main part of the house he noticed Eponine had cleaned up the food, wrapping it back in the original container and placing it in one of the cupboards. The two potatoes were buried in the embers of the kitchen fireplace and the trunk, still unpacked, was pushed into a corner.

Once entering the bedroom – oh my, we share a bedroom don't we? – He instinctively looked away when he noticed Eponine. His heart racing and his face turning deep red, he had forgotten that such close quarters might be very awkward. She giggled and said, "Do not worry Monsieur, I am not so frightening." Realizing he would have to look up in order to see where he was going, his eyes looked up slowly and his heart rate calmed down significantly when he saw she was dressed in her new nightgown, a thin brown blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the slippers on her feet. He couldn't help inwardly scowling.

Really, how improper! At least she has that ratty old blanket, not that it will help in the summer heat. Although, do you really expect her to retire in her day dress? After all, the streets probably weren't a very good breeding ground for manners...

"Monsieur, you may have the bed."

Enjolras started to protest, his gentlemanly side making an appearance, but she interrupted him. "Don't be foolish! You are injured, after all, and I am quite used to sleeping on things worse than a clean floor. Besides, I will be beside the fireplace."

Enjolras nodded again, knowing he would never win an argument with a Thenardier. He slipped off his vest and shoes and placed them beside the bed. While doing so he noticed one of Eponine's shoes by the fireplace, while the other was in the opposite corner of the room. It looks like the streets of Paris didn't teach her how to be organized, either. They both settled into their prospective places: Enjolras in the bed and Eponine on the floor by the fireplace... but not without an air of awkwardness among them.

Feeling guilty and not at all polite, Enjolras cleared his throat and spoke up.

"At least take a pillow, Mademoiselle. It must be uncomfortable on the floor."

Eponine, without lifting her head, responded. "Do not call me a Mademoiselle, Monsieur. I can assure you I do not have a respectable place in society. And keep your pillow; I am really very comfortable with the fire."

"Really, you should take it. There are two here, so don't think you are taking mine."

"I told you no, Monsieur."

"Well, you are being incredibly stubborn; I insist you take this pillow."

"You insist? You are the one now being stubborn."

Enjolras took a deep breath to calm himself. Him, being stubborn! He was merely being polite! This silly girl clearly doesn't know anything about manners, or common sense for that matter. Well, Enjolras was in a bad mood already, and if she was going to give him an attitude he would give one right back, since Eponine clearly didn't care about decorum. He took the spare pillow, a bit lumpy, but good all the same, and threw it on the ground beside Eponine. There, now she would have to take it.

He laid back down on the bed and pulled the blanket around him. Even though it was only a summer night, he had been getting chills since the Revolution. The mattress, although a bit musty and rough, was comfortable enough. Despite his inner demons fighting to manifest into nightmares and conversations with his dead friends, the day had been a long one and he was beginning to fall asleep. Just when he was settling in, a loud thump sounded from the area of the bed that he had turned his back on. Through squinting eyes he saw the pillow he had thrown on the bed, and Eponine looking sound asleep as though nothing had happened.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters pertaining to Les Mis