A/N: Hey all! Thanks for the reviews so far :) So, as I sit here, eating Easy Mac and listening to "La donna è mobile" (I love classical music 3), I'm contemplating whether or not I have anything worthwhile to say in this author's note. So here's chapter three!
WARNING: There is a VERY intense kiss scene in this chapter. It's not M...but their minds went there. If that bothers you, I'm sorry in advance!
Chapter Three
I was reluctant to wake, but eventually, sleep ended. As I regained consciousness and looked around the spacious room, I realized that I wasn't at home. It took me a minute to remember everything that happened the previous night – taking Marius to Rue Plumet, stopping Papa's attack, arguing with Mama, knocking out Montparnasse, kissing Enjolras…
Kissing Enjolras…
Even though I could almost still feel his lips on mine, it puzzled me that he was suddenly so kind to me. I had no clue what brought it on, and I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to figure it out. As I sat up in the bed, I noticed something that hadn't been in the room last night. It was a lovely, light blue dress, draped across the chair with a note.
I stepped out of the bed and walked slowly towards it. Almost afraid to touch it, as if it would disappear, I picked up the small square of parchment and read his quick, but still sophisticated scrawl.
Éponine,
I took the liberty of guessing your size and went to the dressmaker this morning while you were still asleep. I won't have a guest of mine dressed in rags, and this should be a good fit, if I guessed correctly. Put it on and come downstairs whenever you're hungry. Breakfast will be waiting for you.
-Enjolras
Hesitantly, I reached out and touched the dress. The material was clean and soft, not like the dirty rags I was accustomed to wearing. Why would he do this for me…? I picked it up slowly and held it up to my figure; it looked like a perfect fit. I slipped it on, laced it up, and sure enough, it was. I couldn't resist a single twirl in front of the mirror. With a small smile, I opened the door and slowly walked downstairs.
Enjolras was already in the kitchen, and smiled when he turned around and saw me. "Ah, I was just thinking you'd be up soon," he said. "I'm glad to see the dress I got you fits."
I smiled shyly. "It's beautiful. How much –?"
"Don't," he said with a smile. Again, I realized it would be fruitless to argue with him and let it go.
"Thank you, again," I smiled. "How long was I asleep?"
"About 9 or 10 hours. It's almost midday."
I yawned. "Already?"
He chuckled. "I trust you slept well, then?"
"Very," I smiled; I already felt much more relaxed around him. The awkwardness of last night seemed to have faded, though awfully quickly. "You have a very comfortable bed," I chuckled.
He smiled. "It hasn't failed me yet, even in the short time I've been boarding here." He turned back around and said over his shoulder, "I hope you're hungry; I've still got plenty of breakfast."
"I'm starving, actually," I laughed, sitting down at the table, where a mug of fresh tea was already waiting for me. A plate of food accompanied it not long after, which I soon devoured. I was sure no one at the ABC knew it, but Enjolras was quite the cook. I took one sip of the tea – English breakfast, brewed just the way I liked. How did he know…? Part of me wondered. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste and exhaling deeply. The tea calmed me immensely, and I made short work of it as well. "Thank you again, for letting me stay here last night," I murmured when I finished. "There was no way I could have gone home."
He smiled again, sitting down next to me at the table and putting a hand on mine. "Ce n'était rien, chèrie," he murmured, running his thumb back and forth across the back of my hand. It was nothing, dear.
This touch was, in a way, no different from when he put a concerned hand on my shoulder last night when I showed up at his door in distress – it was merely affectionate friend-to-friend contact. But at the same time, the feeling that went through me when his skin touched mine was so…different than last night. I wanted him – I suddenly, violently, passionately wanted him. I looked into his eyes, making sure to hold his gaze, and noticed for the first time just how beautiful their unique blue-gray hue was. His face started to change as he looked at me, as if he knew what was on my mind.
As I gained the nerve, I slowly started to lean in…
Then his mouth was on mine again, and I couldn't control myself.
The kiss last night hadn't been enough to truly feel what his touch was like – it wasn't even a real kiss. Now…now I could taste the unique, almost tangy sweetness of his lips, I felt them part just enough for my tongue to slide between them as he sucked in a breath of surprise. I felt an ecstatic joy, like no feeling I'd ever had, start at our touching mouths and spread through my whole body. It warmed me in a completely new way. I reached for him, he reached for me, and then his hot, panting breath was in my mouth, his tongue not far behind. I wanted every inch of him, right then.
Simultaneously, we stood up from the table without breaking the kiss, enabling us to hold each other closer. The synchronization was perfect; it was like we had read each other's minds. We were already breathing hard, but neither of us wanted it to stop. I felt his hands turn to fists against the small of my back, gripping the dress, while my fingers tangled into his long, soft hair, pressing his face to mine. He responded by picking me up by the knees and pressing my back into the nearest wall. "Oh God…'Ponine…" he groaned between kisses, gasping for breath before he attacked my mouth again, harder than before. I whimpered and held my legs around his waist with my knees, freeing his hands to roam my body as they pleased. I moaned in pleasure and pain when he squeezed my thighs, gasped and whimpered as his hands none too gently traveled up my sides, and let out a loud groan when he reached my breasts.
By now, he was kissing my neck so tenderly that I couldn't stop shivering with the pleasure. His warm, heavy hands were massaging my breasts as he panted across my skin. I could feel his breath raising goosebumps on my neck. The ecstasy of the moment was almost too much to take. "They're so perfect…" he whispered in admiration, squeezing the left one gently.
I pressed his hands into them and panted, "Do it harder, Enjolras…I want you to feel me more…"
My words clearly had the desired effect of inflaming him even more. He growled deep in his throat and attacked my mouth a third time, squeezing my breasts again, this time just hard enough to hurt a little. At the same time, he started slowly grinding his hips against mine, and bit the base of my neck hard. The combined sensations drove me out of my mind with pleasure and wanting. "Enjolras…!" I moaned, punctuating it with a gasp.
"Éponine…" he growled in my ear, catching my lower lip between his teeth as we kissed again. Everything about this moment, I started to realize as my hands worked their way back into his hair, was shockingly similar to what Montparnasse had attempted last night, but my reaction to Enjolras was so different than to 'Parnasse. There was nothing forced about this; there was no power or dominance about this – this was the exact opposite. The moment was a shared pleasure.
When he finished at my chest, his arms circled tightly around my back, his hands moving up to the laces of my dress.
That was when I lost it.
Enjolras
I didn't quite understand Éponine's sudden advance at breakfast. Not that I minded in the least; I was in love with the girl. It just didn't make sense when she'd come to my door last night practically in hysterics about Marius and Cosette.
In any case, the moment she kissed me, I let my brain shut down and allowed my body to take over. This was not the time for logic. It was obvious from the first touch that she wanted this; she was desperate for it. And as for me…I had dreamed about this moment countless times – the heat of her body in my arms, her soft, perfect breasts pressing into my chest, the soft, smooth skin of her neck under my lips, then between my teeth, the sound of her voice moaning out my name in passion as our lips crashed together again. I had wanted Éponine for almost four years, and now here she was, in the kitchen of the Café Musain, acting ready for me to take her back to my bed.
Until my hands reached the top of her back, where the laces of her dress were, just after I had growled her name.
I never had any intention of undressing her. Despite the heat of the moment, my rational mind knew it was far too early to go there. She was still far too scared and upset – I suspected her strange mix of frenzied emotions had something to do with her sudden change of attitude – and I wasn't going to take advantage of her in her vulnerability, despite what my body wanted so badly. Éponine was not the first woman I'd taken to bed; I knew to go slower than that.
But when my hands reached the top of her dress, she screamed – clearly not in pleasure; any man would have been able to tell – and she shoved me back hard, sinking to the floor and curling up. I stumbled backwards, away from her, shocked and confused and still struggling to catch my breath as she started to cry. Dear God, am I suddenly that bad at it? It wasn't two minutes ago that she couldn't get enough!
"…'P-Ponine?" I stammered nervously when a moment passed. "W-what's wrong?"
She shook her head, still sobbing, but between gasps, I could make out that she was saying, "I can't…I can't…God save me, I can't…"
"Éponine, you're not making sense," I said gently. I wanted to help her somehow, but I was afraid to approach her again. The last thing I wanted was for her to recoil from me again. That would hurt more than the physical shove. "'Ponine…tell me what's going on, sweetheart." Did I really just go there? "I'm not going to hurt you."
She started gasping again, but seemed to be calming down before she answered. "It's…it's just too soon, Enjolras…not after Marius…n-not after he…" she broke down again before she could finish her sentence, pulling her knees up to her chest.
I sighed softly in pity and knelt next to her. When she didn't shy away from me again, I gently wrapped my arms around her shaking frame and let her keep crying, rocking her back and forth again. This is insane. The woman I love has just had her heart broken by one of my friends, and after spending the night in the Café with me, she starts kissing me like there's no tomorrow, and now I'm comforting her again as she cries about that. How on earth did I end up here?
"Éponine…Éponine, look at me," I said gently, but firmly. She turned her face to look into my eyes. Hers were already red and puffy, and I gently wiped away a single tear. Miraculously, she didn't flinch. I suppose she still trusts me that much. "Tell me where I went wrong," I murmured, gently brushing her hair away from her face. "Tell me my part in making you upset, and I'll apologize."
"Mon Dieu, Enjolras, how could you think any of this is your fault?" she asked, almost laughing at me as she dried her eyes. "You've…been so kind to me…you let me sleep here when I came to your door in the pouring rain in hysterics, and then you went to the dressmaker's for me while I was still asleep. How could I possibly be upset with you?"
I struggled with how to approach this one. I had always been a good orator, but right now, when I needed my skills the most, they seemed to have left me. "W-well…obviously, something happened just now to trigger this," I answered. "Did I…do something wrong?"
She wiped her eyes again before answering. "When your hands went up to the top of my back…" she started to say.
I took a deep breath and held up a hand to stop her. "'Ponine…before you say anything, you have to understand…I had no intention of going that far," I said, trying not to sound too defensive. "I don't want to take advantage of you, especially not while you're still this upset about Marius. My brain was just…off. I wasn't thinking enough to realize I would upset you by doing that."
She smiled a little sadly and looked away. "But when you did…it – "
A frenzied, furious pounding at the door suddenly interrupted her. "Éponine!" a man's voice demanded; she instantly went pale with fear. I had one guess as to who it was, and I was sure I wasn't wrong. "Éponine, if you're in there, get out here NOW!"
"It's my papa," she whispered, looking desperately at me. "Enjolras, please…will you hide me just a little longer?"
"ÉPONINE!" The voice demanded.
I looked from the door to the terror in her eyes and knew what I had to do. I whispered, "Get upstairs, and stay there until I tell you to come down. I'll do my best to handle him."
She didn't have to be told twice. Before I could count to three, she was out of my arms and had flown up the stairs, the door shut behind her. I made a point to go down the last few, and when the pounding resumed, I used the same line as last night – "I'm coming, I'm coming!" I faked a look of surprise when I opened the door to 'Ponine's enraged father. "Monsieur Thénardier?" I asked. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Cut it with the lies, pretty boy," Thénardier snapped, forcing his way inside. "I want my daughter back, and I want her now."
"Éponine?" I asked curiously, shutting the door and forcing myself to look over his horrendous breach of manners. "Has she gone missing?"
"Last night," he said gruffly, "and don't play stupid with me. I know she came here. She was always overly fond of you revolutionary boys, especially that Pontmercy."
I frowned, trying to keep my cover – "play stupid" with Thénardier, as it were. "Monsieur, I haven't seen her. I'm not the one she loves." My heart stung a little as the words left my mouth, and it took me a minute to recover before I was able to speak again. "If she had come to me, I would have sent her back to you."
"Liar!" Thénardier roared, punching me hard in the face. I felt my lip split on impact, and quickly put a hand to it. He took advantaged of my momentary inaction to head towards the stairs. Fear leaped through my heart. He couldn't get to 'Ponine; he'd kill her. And I had no intentions of letting that happen.
I centered myself behind him, got a running start, and leaped onto his back to distract him just before his foot hit the bottom step. Thénardier roared with frustration and started making an awkward attempt to throw punches behind him, trying to get me off. I somehow managed to dodge all his blows but one. Shortly after he hit me, I lost my grip on him and fell.
The next thing I knew, his foot was pinning my chest to the floor. I could hardly breathe from the pressure. He tried to take a few swings at my face, which I dodged, but he kicked me once in the stomach, and hard. I yelped in pain and gripped the spot, which only made him grin a grin that made my heart drop with fear. He turned around to go back up the stairs, and ignoring my screaming stomach, I jackknifed to my feet. Thénardier glared at me, and when he advanced again, I knocked him out with one hard punch to the face. He crumpled to the floor next to the staircase and lay still for a long moment.
I put two fingers to his neck, then wrist, like Joly had taught me, to check for a heartbeat. The pulse was faint, but clear. He was just unconscious for the moment.
"Alright, 'Ponine. It's safe," I called roughly up the stairs.
Éponine
I regretted seeking refuge in the Café Musain as soon as I heard Enjolras open the door and greet my father. I hadn't known it then, but by coming here, I'd put him in more danger than he could realize. Papa would stop at nothing to get to me now. He'd kill Enjolras with his bare hands, he'd drag me back to our little hovel by the hair, and then I'd be killed.
I listened at the door to Enjolras' bedroom as he tried to lie and cover for me, but I knew it would be no use. Papa would know I was here. He'd always been able to read my mind that way, and he knew that I was a friend to almost everyone at the ABC; Mama would have also told him that I was in love with Marius. Sure enough, I heard shouting, there were a few footsteps on the stairs, and then the fighting started. I had to back away from the door then, I couldn't bear to listen to it and tried not to think about what was happening down there.
It didn't take very long for a loud thunk that was clearly the sound of a body hitting the floor to happen. I held my breath and waited for what seemed like days – waited for the door to open and either Papa to drag me out, or Enjolras to hold me and tell me everything was okay. Had Enjolras won, or was I about to die?
"Alright, 'Ponine. It's safe," I heard Enjolras' voice. I slumped in relief against the door. I would live to see another day. Cautiously, I opened the door and started down the stairs, trying to keep my legs from shaking. Enjolras was standing over my father's limp body, and appeared to be mostly fine. His lower lip was split, I noticed the beginnings of a bruise around his left eye, and he was holding his stomach with one arm. Papa must have kicked him.
"Is he…?" I asked, pointing at Papa.
Enjolras shook his head. "Just knocked out for now. But we need to get him tied up and hide him, so he can't try to come for you again."
I nodded. "Have you got good rope?"
It took the two of us about three minutes to tie my father's hands and feet, gag him and lock him in the closet. Thankfully, we managed all of it before he came to. "He's going to be furious when he gets out of there…" I murmured when Enjolras pulled the key from the door. "He'll have a wicked headache and no way to escape. I tied those knots the way he taught me; it'll take him a month to get out of them."
Enjolras chuckled, putting an arm around my shoulders. "I'm sure I'll be able to handle him again when the time comes." He cringed a little with sudden pain. "Although…my stomach hurts quite a bit…"
"Did he kick you?" I asked. Enjolras nodded. "I'm not surprised it hurts so much, then," I answered. "He's always had a wicked kick. I got it more than once as a child. Do you want me to go get a doctor?"
He shook his head. "But if you're going to bring someone, bring Joly. I know he's still just a student doctor, but he's smart, he's advanced in his studies, and I trust him more than any of the other doctors in Paris."
I nodded. "Alright, Joly it is. I'll be back soon." I steeled myself, and placed one more kiss on his lips before racing out. It didn't take long for me to get to Joly's small flat; he didn't live far from the Café Musain. I knocked hard on the door, but not as urgently as I had last night at Enjolras' door. Thankfully, he answered promptly, wearing his only threadbare suit. I suspected he was just home from another patient visit, and felt a brief pang of guilt for showing up at his door.
"Éponine? What's wrong?" He asked, clearly concerned. He had always been kind to me, and I had always liked him. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. I'm here for Enjolras," I said immediately. "He's been hurt, and he asked me to come fetch you."
Thankfully, Joly only nodded and didn't question me further. I could tell that he was already going into doctor mode. When he had a patient that needed him, he didn't waste time asking unnecessary questions. "Alright. Let me get my bag, and I'll be right back." He was already halfway up the stairs when he spoke. Within moments, he was back, carrying a coat over one arm, even in June, a large, black bag in his left hand, and a huge medical textbook in his right. "Is he still at the Café Musain?"
I nodded, already half-ushering him out the door. "Come quickly, I don't know how much time we can afford to waste."
A/N: Curiouser and curiouser...chapter 4 coming soon!
