/Cosette/
What sort of awful woman was she? My father and I had come to her home every day, begging for entrance. When she finally received us, she promptly left! And her last words – oh, I was raging mad at that point. Papa hadn't heard her smug proclamation so he wasn't angry, oh, but I was. The fury seemed to simmer over my body like the touch of sun against water. Ever since this fiasco began, I've been so terribly angry. I've never been so frequently upset in my life. That girl, Mademoiselle Chevalier, why I believe...I believe I hold a vast dislike for her.
"She's was wicked girl," I whispered to Papa. We were bumping along in our carriage, heading back to the Rue Plumet in defeat. Papa grimaced then turned to me with appraising eyes. "Why wouldn't she let me check for Marius? She saw how important it was!" I was quite aware that my voice sounded like a whiny child's.
"Perhaps she misunderstood your words," Papa consoled and patted my on the back. I frowned and turned my face towards the window.
"Perhaps she's hiding something," I hissed in reply.
"Cosette!" Papa cried in surprise. I looked at him with wide eyes. Why was he upset with me? "Listen to yourself, my girl." I carefully thought over my previous words. "You are a sweet-natured child. Please don't let a few torments alter your disposition." He gave a pained smile, then squeezed my hand. Had I really lost my amiable nature so quickly? Silently, I vowed to keep any future wicked behavior to myself. I shouldn't bother Papa with my lecherous thoughts or actions. He had already been through enough at my expense. I shamefully bowed my head and the remainder of the ride was spent in silence.
The next day, I rose from bed with a feeling of determination I hadn't formerly known. With the rising sun, I uttered, "I will see Marius today." Giving a tight smile, I began to dress myself in formidable clothes of gray and black silk. No dainty white lace or matronly dresses for me today, I was going to appear fierce. I pinned my dark auburn hair up with hasty fingers and didn't even bother pinching my cheeks. The natural shade of indignant anger already tinted my pale features. Nearly running down the stairs, I hurried out to my garden and gave a few precious moments to collect my thoughts.
After my frantic heart calmed, I wistfully rose and let my hands trail across the wrought-iron fencing. Marius had climbed that fence...With a blush, I brought a hand up to my lips. Marius had kissed these lips... The sharp loss of Marius painfully hit me. With a shaking sigh, my hand reached for a creased envelope tucked into my bodice. I returned to my bench and fondly reread the two beloved letters Marius had written me. The first letter was a brilliant, heart-felt collection of musings about love. Marius had slipped them under a rock on my bench shortly after we had bumped into each other...That single moment had altered both our lives...I longed for Marius so suddenly then that it felt like a physical blow – sharp, swift and painful. Running my eyes over the frequently read lines, I whispered, "- to die of love is to live by it..." Would I die of love? Sometimes I felt like it.
The second letter was nothing more then a short poem; Marius' quick and love-filled goodbye to me. If only my father had given it to me earlier! What heartaches could have been prevented? Whatever horrendous injury that had befallen my love could have been prevented! To think that a few lines hastily written on a scrap of paper could have controlled the outcome of us all...
Snapping out of my reverie, I carefully folded the letters and tucked them back into my bodice, close to my heart. I strode into the house to see that Toussaint, our beloved and fussy maid, had been thoughtful enough to leave a small breakfast for me. I hastily ate it and penned a small note. I left it on the table then left before I could re-consider my actions.
After walking through a few streets, I realized how foolish my behavior was. I had become utterly lost. Thankfully, the streets were nearly empty as it was still terribly early in the morning. I remembered the address of the wretched girl - 13 Rue de Forestis – and began to walk with a more purposeful step. I would find that house, and I would find Marius. Nothing could keep me from reaching him.
/Eponine/
After a few quick and loud knocks on my door, I heard Sylvie's excited voice scream, "Mademoiselle Euphrasie! Mademoiselle Euphrasie!" I groaned and attempted to lift my head from the feather pillow.
"What?" I rasped. Sylvie knocked once more, as if asking to enter my room. I sighed. "Come in." My maid and friend burst into the room, her uniform in a disarray and her face flushed. I quickly sat up, my bedsheets falling back from my hands. "Is Marius alright?" Sylvie smiled.
"He's fine. But two of the other men have woken up! Oh, isn't it wonderful?" Sylvie was practically glowing with the good news. I opened my mouth to reply, then paused. It was good news, but I hadn't thought of those other three men since I had returned to the barricade. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I was never very comprehensive in the early morning.
"Please tell Boise to give the men anything they ask for. Ask them who they are, and if they have family they want to contact." Sylvie quickly nodded after my commands. "Oh, and could you redress my bandages after you see to the men? I think my wound started bleeding during the night." Sylvie nodded again. "Alright, you can go now. I want to go back to sleep." Sylvie left my room, and I let my head sink back down onto my pillows. So two out of the four surviving men had woken up, but Marius wasn't one of them. Would he ever open his eyes and smile?
I'm sorry that progress has been so slow on this story. To be honest, I don't have any excuses, besides being super busy. I deleted the previous chapter because I noticed lots of errors. Chapters are going to be longer and more dramatic in the near future! So...yeah. Thanks for reading and please review!
Also...I really appreciate the reviews this story has already gotten, but please keep reviews...erhm...pleasant? I guess I'm alright with flaming, but if you hate this story, at least try to critique it in a way that helps me improve my writing efforts. Oh...and creepy reviews aren't fun. Anyways. Just thought I should get that out there.
