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Chapter 3
Enjolras grinned. Eponine couldn't help but notice how unlike himself the man was being tonight. Usually stoic and blind to anything but the revolution, now his smile seemed to slip onto his face lucidly and without struggle. He was relaxed, happy even. She suspected his earlier glass of wine was not the first to be downed that night. What else could make him so out of character?
"Good. I'm glad you're staying,"
Eponine felt her heart speed up a bit. She didn't want to go home, but there were countless instances that proved her impulsive decisions were not to be trusted. She didn't know why she ever followed them, really. But it was late and the idea of returning to her inevitably drunk parents was anything but tempting. Besides, Enjolras didn't mean anything by the request. He was merely looking out for a fellow Amis, something he'd have done for anyone.
"You can borrow some clothes, if you like," the scholar turned to a dresser that was crammed unevenly against the far wall, reaching in and pulling out a large shirt and billowy pants.
"I don't think that will be necessary. My clothes are just fine,"
"I just thought you might be more comfortable sleeping in something less…structured. But if you're sure…"
Right. Of course. Sleeping. Why else would he offer her different garments?
"Oh…Yes please, if you don't mind," Eponine tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear sheepishly. The borrowed clothing landed in her hands as Enjolras moved to the bottom drawer of the dresser.
"You can take the bed," he nodded towards the small cot in the corner as he produced another set of blankets and sheets from the bottom drawer. Eponine mused how it was a far stretch to call the beaten mattress a bed, but quieted herself when she realized how hypocritical it was to dwell on the fineness of his quarters. There had been too many nights where the girl didn't even have a roof over her head, let alone a sorry little cot. And now Enjolras was letting her have his.
"Oh no, I couldn't. I'll sleep on the floor,"
"Nonsense, you're my guest," Enjolras laid the blankets down next to the cot, tucking them together to resemble a place of sleeping.
"Which is exactly why I should be taking the floor," she said forcefully. Enjolras raised an eyebrow at her, amused.
"Alright, Mademoiselle, as you wish," he chided, gesturing to the makeshift arrangement. Eponine glanced from the blankets to the pile of unused clothing in her hands.
"Er…"
"Right, you need to change, okay. Erm…I'm afraid the flat's only one room, but I can go into the hall for a moment," Enjolras looked a bit flustered as he ruffled a hand through his golden curls, turning to exit the room.
"Thanks," Eponine didn't mean to kick the man out of his own apartment, but she wasn't about to undress in front of a boy whom, as far as she had known, not realized her existence until this very night.
Enjolras left the flat and Eponine slipped out of her dress and petticoats. She had never worn men's clothing before, but it was more comfortable than she might have expected. The large shirt dangled nearly to her knees, the pants far too big for her tiny waist. She tugged at the trousers in attempts to keep them aloft, but to no avail. Eventually, she went to fetch Enjolras from the corridor.
"Very flattering," he smiled as she opened the door, revealing her attempts at dressing herself. Eponine felt her cheeks burn.
"Thank you for letting me borrow your clothes,"
"Anytime," the man strode over to the dresser and took out a similar shirt to the one Eponine had adorned herself with. In a fluid motion, he stripped himself of his current garment and replaced it with the bigger shirt, which looked admittedly much more attractive than the girl's.
Eponine made her way to the pile of blankets next to the cot and burrowed under them, already feeling the clutches of sleep clawing at her eyes.
"I really think you should take the bed," Enjolras said lightly.
"No, really, I'm fine here," she peered at him over the tip of the covers. He blew out the candle on the table and suddenly everything was black. Eponine couldn't even see an outline of the man as he creaked his way over to her.
"I disagree," suddenly, his voice was much closer than she had expected it to be. With the surprising whisper, she felt herself being lifted into the air, blankets and all, and lain carefully down on what must have been the neighboring cot. She could feel his capable arms slide out from under her, the sheer unexpectedness of the situation leaving her with a breath caught in the middle of her throat.
"But…"
"Shh,"
"But Enjolras, I took all the blankets, where will you sleep?" she stammered.
"It's fine, I can stay right here," she heard him lie down on the bare wood floor and cringed at the idea of it. This was silly. He should have just let her be. It was a kind gesture, to be sure. But silly nonetheless.
"At least come lay here with me," the words escaped her lips before Eponine knew what she was saying. Upon realizing her mistake, she clutched the sheets above her much tighter than she had before. What were you thinking, Eponine?
There was silence about the room for a while. It seemed like an infinity, but the infinity came to a close at some point, revealing the smooth voice of a young man echoing throughout the blackness.
"I could,"
Though Eponine knew what she had said was careless, she couldn't bring herself to retrieve it.
"Please," she whispered, meaning for it to be an insistence but hearing it as a pathetic whimper. He answered with a creak as the floorboards sighed beneath him. In a moment, Eponine could feel the heat of his body inches away from hers, settling into the bed, twisting and turning. He finally became still once he had turned on his back and tucked his arms into his sides.
Silence ensued.
"I don't mind, you know," Eponine said quietly. "I don't mind if you take up more space,"
"I wouldn't want to intrude," the just-above-a-whisper seemed to travel to the girl's ears and stop, not allowing the rest of the room to hear.
The two people lay without sound for a long time. So long, in fact, that Eponine was quite sure Enjolras had drifted into the sweet caress of sleep. Somehow less tired than she was only minutes earlier, she stared at the black ceiling and thought. Did this strange episode mean that she and Enjolras were friends? It seemed unlikely that the revolution's leader would entertain her fantasies of occasional conversations and acknowledgement, but it also seemed unlikely that he would continue to ignore her at the ABC Café.
Friends or not, it was the first time that Eponine had shared a bed with a man, however platonic the intentions. She wondered if Marius would be jealous if he knew…
Of course not, you childish fool. He's in love with someone else now. Her own harsh words hurt more than usual. Perhaps it was because of their resounding truth.
Angry at herself, Eponine squirmed further under the blankets and curled up against the sleeping scholar. There was no harm in being warm, she thought. It was then that she felt the firm arm of her heat source curl around her arched back, resting gently against the thin shirt. Eponine tensed. She had not expected him to notice her new position.
"Fais de beaux rêves," he whispered. Sweet dreams.
