If Enjolras was surprised to see her, he didn't show it. Instead, he set his bag on the floor and strode over to her.
"I take it you're feeling better, mademoiselle," he said. Tamar blinked in surprise; he had a lovely voice- low and musical.
"I am, thank you."
"Good," he murmured distractedly, running a hand through his long golden curls. \
Tamar narrowed her eyes, studying the young man in front of her. With his sea-blue eyes, lovely hair, and slim, lean build, Enjolras was actually quite handsome. He looked exhausted, though, as though he, not Joly, had been up all night with her. Perhaps he had. It certainly seemed like that….
"Is there something wrong?" She jumped when Enjolras spoke She hadn't meant to stare!
"No-I-" she took a deep, slightly painful breath. "Yes, actually. Joly mentioned asking you about my trunk?" Seeing Enjolras's noncommittal expression, Tamar shook her head. "You don't have to get it, but...your friend said he'd ask, and-"
"I know. I was about to get it now." Tamar smiled.
"All right. Did Joly tell you where it is, or would you prefer it if I came with you?"
"Not in your condition. I won't allow it," Enjolras said, frowning. "Joly told me where you said it was, but could you perhaps be more specific?"
"Oh, right. Of course." Tamar dug a piece of paper and a stick of charcoal out of her trouser pocket and drew a small map of the inn, the Corinthe, and where she estimated the apartment to be.
"You know where the Corinthe is, I'm guessing?" Enjolras nodded. " inn is right across the street. Got that?"
"I know where the inn is." Enjolras sounded faintly impatient. "I'll be back in about half and hour. You're welcome to help yourself to something to eat if there's any food, but don't leave the apartment." And he left. Without the map. A second later, Tamar heard the front door slam.
"Charming," she muttered. "And what does he mean, if there's any food?" Tamar shrugged and made her way to the small kitchen, ignoring the pounding in her head. After all, it had been a couple of days since she'd last eaten. When she got there, her mouth dropped open.
"Damn. When was the last time someone was in here?" The kitchen was practically empty; some small cupboards, a table and two chairs, a counter, sink, and a hell of a lot of dust. Tamar opened one of the cupboards and found some pots, but nothing else.
"Really?!"
Enjolras, for his part, had no idea what was going on in his house at that moment. When he reached the inn, he strode right in to the front desk.
"Excuse me, but is there a girl staying here? I've come to pick up her things." The young woman looked up from her book.
"We got a couple o' girls. What's she look like? What's her name?"
"It's…" Enjolras frowned, realizing that he hadn't asked the girl's name. "I'm not sure. But she has dark hair, she's rather short, dresses in men's clothes?" The desk woman smiled.
"Oh, you mean Tammy? She hasn't been in for a while, but her stuff's still here. You her lover or something? She's a little young for that, you know."
Enjolras felt himself flush at the mere suggestion. He wasn't anything of the sort! He hadn't even known the girl for a day!
"Where is her room?" he asked through clenched teeth, not deigning to answer the woman's question."
"Second floor, two doors down on the left. Why do you need her stuff?" Again, Enjolras didn't bother to answer. Instead, he strode up the stairs, ignoring the woman's shouts of protest.
Second floor, two down on the left. When he reached the room, he grasped the handle of the door without hesitation and stepped inside. The musty smell of the room hit him like a wave, making him cough. Evidently, no one had been in here for a while. The trunk was still there, though, shut at the foot of the bed. Enjolras bent to pick it up, surprised at how light it was. What did the girl have in it? He set the trunk down again, running a hand through his hair. The girl was an enigma, without doubt. Perhaps her things could tell him more about her.
No, he told himself. That would be wrong. But…
Before he could change his mind, Enjolras dropped to his knees and opened the trunk. In it were several shirts, pairs of pants, vests, and two jackets, all neatly folded. There were also two bags, and a flute case. Enjolras lifted out the lighter bag first. It smelled strongly of herbs, and there were a lot of sealed paper packets , a small wooden bowl, a pestle, a wooden rod, and some roll of bandages inside. He shut the bag, feeling slightly perturbed. Was she some sort of healer? A witch doctor, perhaps? Who could guess?
The second bag's contents were even stranger. It contained a compass, matches, a map of Europe with dots marking about twenty cities, a set of lock-picking tools, and three knives. With shaking hands, Enjolras dropped the bag into the trunk, a chill of foreboding crawling up his back.
Why would such a young girl need to pick locks? The knives were obviously for defense, but they seemed rather superfluous, considering that he'd seen her take four grown men to the ground with her bare hands.
Enjolras blew out a shaky sigh, passing a hand over his eyes. He wasn't really in the mood to deal with this mystery right now. He hadn't slept in two days, but at least the girl was awake now. Hopefully she wasn't causing trouble.
An hour later, Tamar sat back against the kitchen counter, proudly surveying her handiwork. She had cleaned the kitchen, washed and organized the cupboards, and bought some food at the market in the square near the Jardin du Luxembourg. Admittedly, she felt kind of bad about using Enjolras's money to pay for it, but it was for him, too. She was beginning to get a bit worried, though. He should've been back by now.
Suddenly, the front door creaked, and shut. Tamar leaped to her feet, knocking a pot off the counter. CRASH! She winced, bending to pick it up, when the door slammed open.
"What was that?" Enjolras snapped, standing in the doorway with her trunk. Tamar hastily stood, replacing the pot in the cupboard and smiling cockily.
"Enjolras! Took you long enough to get here. You were so late, I cleaned your kitchen and replenished your food supply...what?"
Enjolras was glaring at her. "The state of my home isn't really of your concern, mademoiselle," he told her, rubbing his temples. "You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did. It was in a state of horrid disrepair; I highly doubt you've used this place since you moved in. Am I right?" When he didn't reply, Tamar grinned, displaying strong white teeth. "That's what I thought."
They both stood there for a minute, not speaking. Finally, Enjolras sighed and picked up her trunk again.
"I'm putting this in the spare bedroom," he explained in answer to her questioning look. "You're welcome to stay for as long as you'd like."
"I don't want to be a burden," she replied, still unsure even though she had agreed to stay.
"Nonsense. You won't be." He sounded impatient again, as though he really didn't want to deal with her at the moment. Tamar frowned at the dark circles under his eyes.
"You should sleep," she told him. "You're practically dead on you feet."
"I'm fine," Enjolras replied. Tamar rolled her eyes.
"Right," she said sarcastically. "You can't fool me, you know. How long has it been since you've slept? Two days?" Enjolras opened his mouth to speak, but Tamar cut him off. "You'll be of no use to anyone if you get sick."
"If you're worried about leaving me alone," she added, "don't be. I'll just unpack my trunk. I won't cause any trouble. Seeing that Enjolras was looking pensive, Tamar shrugged. "Think it over." She knew better than to push. Instead, she watched his face, searching for any flicker of emotion that might give her an answer. Finally, he sighed.
"Very well." Enjolras sounded a bit relieved. "If you need anything, I'll be in my room." She nodded.
"Of course." And they went their separate ways.
Author's Note: There's a longer one for you! Hope you like it, and remember to review!