3. Anyone that calls Eponine up on her foul language will get what's fucking coming to them.
The house is comfortably quiet. Enjolras taps away at his keyboard, in full swing of his most recent essay. He is aware of the TV in the next room, but it is not loud enough to interrupt him.
Joly is snoring quietly on the sofa, Combeferre is reading in the bay window, and Courfeyrac, for once, is not disturbing anyone. Bahorel is out with a girl, and the rest of the boys are still at lectures.
Enjolras stretches contentedly, a small smile crossing his face. Maybe there might actually be a Sunday afternoon where he doesn't have to act like the father to grown men.
The front door slams. Enjolras frowns. Today was obviously not going to be that day.
"FUCK!"
"Eponine's home," Combeferre calls from the living room. Enjolras steps out of his bedroom to find Eponine crouched at the drinks cabinet. She stands, clutching a bottle of whiskey.
"FUCK!" She repeats, storming into the kitchen.
Enjolras hears the clatter of glasses accompanied by more shouts.
"THAT TOTAL FUCKING WANKER. I SWEAR TO THE FUCKING GODS IN HIGH HEAVEN THAT I WILL SHOW THAT FUCKING BASTARD. WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS? SLIMY FUCKING PERVERT!"
Eponine stomps back into the room, stopping when she notices Enjolras looking at her, concerned.
She slams her glass down on the table, fills it with liquid and downs it in one, before addressing Enjolras.
"I WORK IN A BOOKSHOP. A BOOKSHOP. AND THAT MISERABLE FUCKER THINKS IT'S OKAY TO ASK ME FOR A LAP DANCE IN THE BACK ROOM. FUCKING NO!"
She downs another shot and surveys the room. Combeferre and Enjolras look at her, worried, but Joly just looks plain terrified at her rant.
"Do you think you could maybe perhaps possibly be angry with less coarse language?" He asks meekly.
"No I fucking couldn't," she snaps.
She lets out a frustrated shout, balling her fists and lights a cigarette. She fumes silently by the door, leaning against the wall. Enjolras exchanges and glance with Combeferre, who nods.
It's best to leave her until she calms down a little bit; let the fire burn out a little before anyone attempts rational conversation.
The quiet does not last long before Eponine begins another outburst.
"It's just so fucking unbelievable! It's not like I have a big sign on the checkout advertising sexual favours! Creepy fucker! I don't know what I have to do to stop perverts like him coming on to me in broad daylight! Why does he think he has the fucking right! A fucking bookshop! Fucking god!"
She takes another drag on her cigarette, and Joly makes a small noise of protest.
"Shut the fuck up Joly!" He cowers in fright under the ferocity of her icy stare, which she turns on Combeferre and Enjolras, daring them to call her up.
They say nothing, and she goes back to her cigarette, boring and hole in the floor with her eyes.
Courfeyrac saunters down the stairs. "Jesus, Ep. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
She turns to glare at him, shooting daggers.
"Fuck. Off." She is no longer shouting, but the tone she adopts instead has the desired effect, and Courfeyrac's smile falters slightly.
"I'm just saying," he continues, raising his hands in defense, "that there are small and delicate ears in this house that need to be protected."
"Hey!" Gavroche appears on the upstairs landing, his head poking over the banister. "I'm not small or delicate!"
"I was talking about Joly," Courfeyrac calls up to him.
He turns his attention back to Eponine. "You might want to tone down for his sake."
Courfeyrac smirks and winks as Eponine bristles with anger.
She turns on her heel and stomps up the stairs.
"See?" Courfeyrac turns to the others, triumphantly. "She'll go and stew it out upstairs, and come back when she's calmed down."
Enjolras laughs. " Courf, if you really believe that, you don't know Eponine at all."
He gestures behind Courfeyrac, who turns to find Eponine coming back down the stairs. To his absolute horror, she is clutching his Catch Me If You Can playbill.
His eyes widen in panic. "What are you doing?"
She smiles maliciously, and pulls out her lighter.
"No!" Courfeyrac screams. "That's been signed by the whole cast!"
"That's a shame," she says offhand, flipping open the lighter and igniting it.
"I'm sorry!" He blurts out.
She pauses, dangling the booklet dangerously close to the small flame. "Go on."
"I'm sorry. You're allowed to swear as much as you like, your sailor's mouth is none of my business! Just please don't hurt it!"
Eponine smirks and drops the book on the floor and Courfeyrac almost collapses with relief.
She wanders into the kitchen, picking up the pen and scrawling underneath her last addition. She reads out the rule loudly so the occupants of the living room can hear her, then goes and stares very sincerely at Joly.
"It doesn't just mean Courf, Joly. I am not averse to moving the uncooked meat to the top shelf of the fridge."
Joly blanches and nods fervently. She turns to look at Courfeyrac, who is kneeling on the floor cradling his playbill.
"You really are ridiculous."
He shoots her a glare.
"You have no soul."
She chuckles. "Well at least now you have fair warning for next time. Be very careful. I know where you've hidden your Billy Elliott one."
Combeferre and Enjolras howl with laughter as Courfeyrac whimpers quietly.
A/N: Yes, I know this is a really fast update, but this one came really easily, and I wanted you guys to read it. :) I think I'm going to have to change this to a T Rating because of this chapter though. :p
I have no idea when I decided Courf was going to be obsessed with musicals, but it's a thing now.
For Meela, there isn't going to be any underlying plot to this story, it's just episodic one shots.
If anyone is interested in my headcanons for this fic, please by all means ask me about them on my tumblr (captaintiny) :)
Also, for anyone that's reading A Breath of Fresh Air, Chapter 5 should be up some time this evening :)
Enjoy!