Chapter One
Adrienne
The sun shone brightly in the square, illuminating everything in its omnipresent sight. Gushing water from the stone fountain, in the square's center, glittered like a thousand diamonds, an entrancing sight. A young man sat at the sparkling pool's edge, yet he did not take in the beauty. His sapphire eyes instead scoured the dull black and white print of the livre* propped on his lap. A furrowed brow revealed a deep thought formulating in his overactive brain. The thought must have yielded some unforeseen insight for he began to furiously scribble something on a worn journal by his side. His quill bobbed vivaciously, never ceasing, until an unwelcome intruder prompted the stylus's master to halt the dictation of his mind's most profound workings.
"Monsieur Enjolras?"
The young man's head shot up, his disgruntled expression mirroring his exasperation at the interruption.
"Quoi?*" he began shortly. He had wanted to say, "What were you thinking for interrupting a man busy at work?" But, then again, he had not expected the étranger* to possess such luminescent femininity. The femme* had dark brown tresses that cascaded down her shoulders in light ringlets before ending at her waist. Her eyes shone like two emeralds and were framed by long voluminous eyelashes. Perfectly arched eyebrows gave her face a stoic look, but the harshness was offset by plump smiling lips, the color of a pink carnation. High cheekbones gave her an exotic flair which was complemented by her slightly tan complexion. For a moment, Enjolras could not summon up any words to articulate his chagrin and a pregnant pause roared in his reddening ears. Enjolras did not usually find himself at a loss for words. Actually, he never did.
"Je suis désolé*," the young woman said, breaking the silence. "I did not mean to interrupt your work." Her pale cheeks flamed crimson in mortification, even more so than Enjolras'.
"No, it is me that should be sorry," Enjolras amended, finally regaining the ability to speak.
Forgetting the reason for his irritation, he abruptly stood. Holding out his ink-stained hand, he winced as his large leather-bound book landed on the cobblestones at his feet with a resonant thud, followed by the eruption of various yellowed leaflets from the interior.
"Mon Dieu!" Enjolras cried as a breeze ruffled through the square, as if on cue, upsetting his precious notes. He dropped to his knees and began to frantically gather them. Of course, some of them escaped his grasp and began to dance along the ground in an infuriatingly alluding dance. To add to his horror, the young woman began to laugh. He felt his cheeks begin to redden again, in embarrassment and anger. Shooting her a dagger-like look, he took off after his rogue papers. From behind, he could hear the click of the woman's heeled shoe as she followed in hot pursuit. As he desperately grabbed up the renegade notes, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, the young woman attempting her own search-and-rescue mission. When the duo had successfully re-captured all of Enjolras' important documents; they returned to the fountain.
"Merci," Enjolras muttered, reclaiming the last of his property from the woman's soft hands. As their skin touched, he felt a surge of electricity jolt through him and his breath caught in his throat. What was wrong with him? He was acting like a babbling idiot! Still, he could not make eye contact with the woman after his indecent and impertinent behavior. He instead busied himself with re-assembling his things into some semblance of order.
"Il n'y pas de quoi*," the woman replied. She hesitated a moment before saying, "Au revoir, monsieur."
As she started to walk away, Enjolras came to his senses. "Wait!" he said.
Slowly, the young woman turned around. "Oui, monsieur?"
Setting his book carefully on the fountain's edge, Enjolras finally met her gaze.
With a forced smile, he said, "What is it that you needed? I mean…what do you want? I mean…what can I do for you?"
If he could have melted into the ground at that moment and disappear, he would have gladly done it. Yet, there he stood like a complete ignorant moron.
"I am so sorry. I am not normally this rude," he added. "I think it's the heat."
"The heat? Really? What is wrong with me?" Enjolras thought to himself.
The young woman just beamed at him as if he held all the answers to unlock the mysteries of the world.
"I think you are being too hard on yourself, monsieur. It was I who interrupted you. I am the one who is sorry. See, I am being rude again."
Holding out her hand, she said, "My name is Adrienne Beaux."
Enjolras took her hand in his, feeling the electricity pulsing through his blood again, "Julian Enjolras."
"Enchanté," Adrienne replied, her expression mesmerized. Enjolras did not realize the effect that he had on women. He spent most of his life so absorbed in his studies that he was oblivious to the way that women fawned over him. When he looked into the mirror, he saw an ordinary man with an extraordinary mind. Yet, he did not have an ordinary appearance. Most viewed him as a modern Adonis, chiseled to perfection. He had golden locks that hung to the top of his collar in soft waves. His eyes were as deeply blue as the ocean and they had the power of captivating anyone who caught his gaze. These sapphire orbs were framed by dark blonde eyebrows, which were almost always furrowed in concentration. To add to the carved severity of his appearance, Enjolras had a sharp jaw and lips which rarely turned upwards into a smile. All of this and more prompted those around him to regard him reverently for Enjolras represented the epitome of strength and courage.
Noting that Enjolras was growing uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze, Adrienne said, "I have heard the people of Paris talking about a young man who has a profound knowledge of law and politics. They say that his name is 'Enjolras.'" When I saw that you fit their description, I had to seek you out."
Frazzled by her declaration, Enjolras said, "Why, may I ask, does a young woman such as yourself seek out one that dotes so much energy on politics and law? I find that most women abhor such topics."
Enjolras did not wish to add the fact that he did not actually know any women at all. He was merely going by the information provided to him by the meager friends that he had.
"You will find monsieur that I am not like most women. My tutor refuses to teach me anything but German, literature, and mathematics. The latter he teaches only on my father's wishes. However, both refuse to indulge me in my interest of law and politics. They feel that they are subjects reserved for men and I should conserve my energy for lighter material. Do you agree monsieur Enjolras?"
Enjolras did not know how to reply to her query. Did he think these subjects should be exclusive to men? Did he want to offer up his time and energy to tutor this beautiful young woman?
Finally, he said, "No, I do not agree. I believe such topics should be taught to anyone who wants to learn. It's refreshing to see someone with such a ravenous appetite for knowledge. If you want, I could gather up some law books for you to peruse at your leisure."
Adrienne clasped her hands together with glee, "Oh monsieur! Merci!"
A genuine smile spread across Enjolras' face.
"You are most welcome," he said. "And if you have any questions, I frequent the Café Musain most evenings, do you know it?"
"Oui," Adrienne replied.
"If you meet me there tomorrow at five 'o'clock, I will have some things prepared for you."
"Merci beaucoup."
"Well, I should be going. I promised mon ami* I would meet him before class."
Adrienne nodded, "A demain, monsieur."
"A demain, mademoiselle."
French Translations:
livre - book
Quoi? - What?
étranger - stranger
femme- woman
Je suis désolé - I am sorry
Mon Dieu - My God
Il n'y pas de quoi - French equivalent to "Don't mention it or Don't worry about it."