A few weeks had past since Claude had become friends with the Le Amis. She had grown closer to all of them, especially Elizabeth. Enjolras was oblivious to the nightly affairs between his sister and Courfeyrac while the other students gave Courfeyrac a pat on the back and raised their eyebrows at Elizabeth. She didn't only care about Courfeyrac, she was very passionate about the revolution, and she spent a fair about of time with Claude as well.
Claude became a favorite among the group of friends, she played drinking songs for Grantaire, argued with Joly about the effects of dancing on the body, but it was Combeferre who stole her heart, and she his. He would sit with her at the piano after meetings, talking once Enjolras had left, and she usually left before there were too few people left at the cafe.
One day, Claude limped into the cafe later than usual, tears in her eyes. She sat down at the bench beside the piano, resting her head between her knees. Combeferre noticed and immediately knelt down next to her,
"Claudia," he whispered, "Claudia, are you okay?" Claude put her head up, her hair was in a half-hearted bun as opposed to her normal elaborate hair. She shook her head and slid off her boots, wincing as she pulled off her socks and rolled up her leggings. Her feet were covered in blisters, and the sides of her toes were bloody.
"What happened?" He voice was strong, but not harsh and he stroked her neck the back of his fingers.
"New shoes, I'd told you it's the worst thing you can go through," she smiled dryly.
"I'll get my medical kit, Elizabeth and Joly will look after you, I'll be back in 20 minutes," he kissed her temple and ran out of the cafe.
Immediately after Combeferre left, Elizabeth ran over to her friend, "Claude! What happened?"
"I got new pointe shoes, I'm breaking them in," Claude answered, looking at Joly as he walked over to his friend, whom he had grow close to through their arguments.
"So much for dancing being good for the body," he smirked, but his eyes had a look of concern. Claude rolled her eyes,
"This is not a fault of dance, it's a fault of shoes,"
Joly walked away, a look of satisfaction on his face.
"What's with him today?" Claude asked, looking at Elizabeth.
"Being Joly I guess, how are you feeling?"
"Not great, obviously," Claude gestured down to her feet, "how are you and Courfeyrac?"
Elizabeth bit her lip, trying to hide her smile, which Claude returned with a look of sarcastic surprise, "really well," she whispered and the two girls giggled. Claude couldn't but feel a twinge of jealousy, the most intimacy between she and Combeferre was the kiss on the temple he had given her before he ran out. Elizabeth seemed to sense her feelings,
"If I'm jealous of anyone it's you," she said, looking at Courfeyrac across the room.
"What do you mean?"
"Just as soon as you walked in he was with you and taking care of you,"
"I think that's your problem," Claude noted, "there's more to a relationship than just intimacy," Elizabeth was about to reply when Combeferre returned, his medical kit strung over his shoulder. Elizabeth squeezed Claude's shoulder and returned to planning. Claude swung her feet onto the bench as Combeferre opened his bag. He began wiping the blood off, revealing shallow slits on the sides of her feet.. The medical student gently turned Claude's feet in his hands, running his fingers gently over her blisters. "Well," he spoke softly as he always did to her, "we have two options. We can either take care of your blisters now, or wait for them to pop, which would most likely happen while you're dancing."
"Wait," Claude said, more sternly than she intended. Combeferre immediately dropped her foot and moved closer to her, resting his hand on her knee. His dark blue eyes looked into her brown ones, searching for a sign of fear, he found none.
"Yes?" Combeferre almost whispered, a look of utter concern in his eyes.
"Wh-why would you pop the blisters on purpose?" Claude said, flattered and startled by the attention Combeferre was giving her.
"Well, it provides time to clean and dress the wound at a better time as opposed to mid-performance." He replied, moving back to her feet, lightly running his fingers down the side of her body.
"Okay, Okay, let's do that," Claude said, partly to herself. Combeferre looked at her,
"It's going to hurt, and cleaning them with alcohol will hurt more, you sure?"
Claude nodded, with an unsure look of fear on her face. Combeferre took a needle from his bag and pushed it against a blister on her right ankle.
"Ah!" Claude yelled, yanking her food away as a reaction. Combeferre looked up at her with a look of guilt.
"I'm so sorry," Combeferre whispered for every blister, allowing the blood to run down her feet, coating his hands and wrists.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered again, taking his cloth and wiping blood off her feet.
"Don't be, please," Claude cradled his face in her hands, "Combeferre, never, ever be sorry for helping me, helping anyone,"
He looked at her, feeling an overwhelming respect for the young woman he had begun to see as his equal. He reached up and gave her a soft kiss.
"Never, Claudia, never," he whispered, he smiling lips almost touching her ear. Claude giggled, attracting attention from the other students. Elizabeth was straddling Courfeyrac, kissing him passionately. The other students had begun to leave, somewhat bothered by their leader's sister entwined in Courfeyrac's arms a few feet from them. Soon Courfeyrac picked Elizabeth up, her legs wrapped around his waist, and carried her upstairs to a room. The only student left in the cafe was a drunken Grantaire, passed out across a table.
Combeferre took a gauze bandage from his bag and slowly wrapped it around the dancer's feet.
"You'll be able to dance in a few days," he said.
"A few days?!" Claude looked at him in shock. "I-I can't! I have to rehearse!" Combeferre smiled, massaging her ankle, leaving a handprint in her own blood. Claude looked at her body. Her ankles and calfs were covered in hand prints. Every where he'd touched her, he left a mark. She could still feel his cool hand on her skin, and his warm lips on hers.
Combeferre noticed the blood too, "here," he called over a bucket of water and began to softly wipe off the blood, once he was done Claude fixed her leggings and pulled her socks on. She stood up, but immediately collapsed back onto the bench. "Claudia," Combeferre sighed, "you can barely walk, there is no way you'll be dancing for the next week," Claude opened her mouth object, "and Marius will cover for you at rehearsal." Claude nodded. "You're are in no place to walk home," Combeferre continued. You shall stay with me until you are able to walk again," Claude nodded again. The young man picked her up, not affected at all by Claude's light body.
"And where do you live?" the young woman smiled, wrapping her arms around the man's neck.
"About a quarter of a mile from here," he replied. And walked out onto the street.
Anyway, I'm not totally sure if I like this chapter, but I needed to advance the relationship. I'm thinking the next chapter will focus more the the friendship between Elizabeth and Claude, and Joly and Claude. As always, reviews are always appreciated :D
