She told only him that she loved him.

It was funny, really. Everyone had known of her affection for Marius. Everyone. She had told her sister, of course, had even told her father by fiercely protecting Marius and Cosette. Montparnasse had known and all of Les Amis.

Once Enjolras had been fit enough to walk, Éponine had gone out searching for a new home. They still needed to hide; her father was surely looking for her, and the police was still searching for the leader of the rebellion, as his corpse has never been found.

It had been roughly eight months now since the fatal incidents at the barricades and yet Éponine didn't feel save. Whenever she parted from Enjolras, she feared for his life, feared someone would find him. The first few months she had been on edge, fearing Javert would find them. He was good at it, really. She eased up a bit when she had heard about his death.

She knew Enjolras couldn't stay in the shed any longer. She didn't know much about medicine and infections but she was aware that Enjolras' recovery would only be hindered by their current living standards.

Her initial idea was to find Cosette and ask her for help. Éponine didn't dare. She didn't dare to seek for the woman who's lover she got killed. She didn't dare to seek for the sister she had treated so badly as a child. But for Enjolras she would do it. She went out to find Cosette and her father, the hope still inside her that maybe, after Javert's death, they hadn't left France. But they were nowhere to be found. Éponine had even gone out of her way and had asked Montparnasse. It had been a mistake, yes, and she still paid for it.

But she had found something. It had taken a while to get Enjolras to their destination, had caused him a lot of pain. But he was grateful nonetheless. Being refugees in a church might not be what he had wanted but it was cleaner, warmer and dryer than the shed could ever be.

She did some light work, helped in the kitchen and prepared the masses. They had separate rooms but Éponine would sit with him most hours of the day until nightfall. They went for walks in the garden; he kept silent while she chatted with the nuns.

About her life before, about how she lost her brother, her lover and two sister. She kept everything vague enough, of course. The fear of being caught was still too present.

Never did Éponine talk about Enjolras. Never did the word 'love' leave her lips when it wasn't directed at him. She didn't tell anyone else she loved him. The world knew about her love for Marius but only Enjolras knew about her love for him.

Maybe it was a treasured secret. Maybe it was untrue. Maybe she feared the nuns would not tolerate lovers. Maybe she didn't want to lie to them about such a powerful thing as love.

"I love you," she told him with a smile every night before she left. Cupped his face and pressed a kiss to his forehead and his nose. It was her ritual as it was his to sneak into her bedroom long after dark. Sleeping without her small frame pressed against him had become a habit over the course of the past year and he didn't want to miss it.