First, I'm totally ashamed of myself for not updating sooner. I'd say life got in the way and that's kinda true because I totally passed my baccalauréat and I graduated from high school. So I kinda had to study (which I did), then it took a while for things to sink in because I also turned 18 and I though it was not really a big deal but hey, it was, it is BECAUSE I'M A FREAKING ADULT AND I'M TOTALLY FREAKING OUT SINCE THEN (it's been almost two months, still not used to being responsible of my own shit). Whatever.

I don't know if anyone will read this anyway but if you do, I'm sorry about any mistake you'll find (and you will, since English is't my first langage and I kinda wrote this in one go and it's not beta'd).

VERY IMPORTANT THING, IT'S INGE'S BIRTHDAY TODAY! Well, it's not her birthday anymore here since it's past Midnight but I'm pretty sure it still is somewhere in the world, so check out her stories and tumblr (she's ThinksInWords here and textsfromumbridge on Tumblr).

Finally, I don't own Les Misérables, Victor Hugo does (or rather did, since... well... you know) or any production or movie or anything related to Les Mos. I just happened to like this masterpiece.


It wasn't the first demo Éponine came to. It was, however, the first time the boys were that happy. No, scratch that, it wasn't happiness, it was freaking euphoria. As if the law had been accepted — still not by the way which was utterly ridiculous. It was the first time she was so moved by a speech as well. Enjolras, well, Enjolras had been Enjolras but there had been something else. There had been emotion. There had been a spark and people had finally seen it, which was probably the cause of all these smiles and laughs and stupid songs. It was insane but it felt so good just to be among them, at the Musain opened this night by Cosette.

"Honestly, I still can't believe how great it was!" Courfeyrac exclaimed after finishing his Irish coffee.

"How great he was" Éponine corrected with a soft laugh. She was still impressed by her friend's speech from earlier — and that was an understatement.

"Yeah… he was inspired. T'was amazing" Grantaire slurred, lighting his cigarette which made Musichetta magically appeared.

"Christ, R, how many times will we have to explain it to you? You can't smoke in here. It's freaking illegal!" she snapped, snatching the cig from his fingers then breaking it in two pieces. Éponine couldn't help but smirk at his face. Grantaire wasn't usually one to feel or at least to look so sheepish but here he was, in front of Musichetta, looking like a four years old littly boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar by his mother.

"Sorry" he mumbled in the red hair direction. She rolled her eyes and strolled away to join Joly who was dancing on his own in the middle of the bar, often bumping into tables and chairs with an utterly wasted Bossuet, which wasn't good news — considering, you know, it was Bossuet. He would probably knock over a table with a rumba step and feel bad about it longer than he would be hungover.

"Speaking of Enjolras, d'you know where he is?" Combeferre asked, looking as tired as if he had ran for some marathon. The poor guy had spent his afternoon shooting slogans and throwing his fist in the air with rage. Who would have guessed he could look that fierce when they looked at Combeferre, ever the calm one? He had put his glasses back on his noose but he was still wearing his bright pink sweater. Everyone was, as a matter of fact, even Grantaire who was always complaining about the color.

"Over here, with Marius and Cosette" Bahorel pointed absentmindedly. Éponine was feeling his gaze on her since this morning and it was seriously starting to be annoying. Oh, Bahorel was her friend and she knew he only wanted her to be safe and sound, yet he didn't seem to think she could take care of herself. As if she was a child or some kind of fragile doll you would break just by taking out of its box. Shit was getting old.

"Ép', you sure you okay?" he asked for the thousandth time of the day. The brunette rolled her eyes but nodded anyway. Yes, she was okay. Why couldn't he get it once for good? No need to ask every single minute.

"She's not made of crystal, buddy" Courfeyrac interjected. "I wonder if you're not even made of marble sometimes!"

"Don't you like your face the way it's arranged, Courf'?" Éponine smirked, secretly happy he had interjected. These past few days, she had become slightly irritable. Shit had happened and she was handling it fine, even if her friends thought otherwise. She had managed until she met all of them, she still did. It was life, for God's sake. Things happened and you had to deal with it, whether you liked it or not.

"Why do you want to rearrange his face?"

Éponine looked up to see Enjolras with a soft smile on his face. Just like Combeferre, he wore marks of tiredness but here he was, drinking a coffee at this late hour of the night, chatting with his friends and thanking people he didn't even know who were celebrating at the Musain. He never looked more alive in Eponine's eyes and she couldn't help but return his smile, squeezing the hand he had put on her shoulder.

"Told me he thinks I'm made of marble" she explained with a mocking glance for Courf who tried to act casual — and failed.

"That'd make two of us" Enjolras chuckled. He was now used to these kind of jokes. It wasn't really mean and he knew his friends cared for him, no matter how harsh he could be with him. They fought, they did, every now and then, that kept them knitted. They fought over stupid things such as what kind of pizza they should order and important topics like where the next demo would take place. That was what they did.

Strangely, Éponine had found herself used to that strange behaviour very quickly when Cosette or even Musichetta had been really taken aback by some of the boys' remarks or jokes for a few months when they first met them. The young girl had been abused and brutalized by men for most of her life yet this group had relaxed her mind. They had made her feel safe, every single one of them, even Bahorel who was her boxing partner and the man threw punches at her on a weekly basis. It was strange for sure yet she had never thought about breaking all ties with them. Of course, she admired them for the cause they had chosen to fight for but there was something else. They were her family now.


"Will you talk to me now?"

Éponine couldn't hide her smile as she was looking for her key in front of Grantaire's door. Yes, her key.

"We have to tuck him in bed first" she softly answered. She knew this was coming and she was really thankful Enjolras didn't bring it in front of the others but talking about her housing issues on their friend's landing with said friend half awake in their arms? Out of the question.

Naturally, Enjolras noticed that the key she used to open the freaking door was on her keyring. The man was so observant it was annoying sometimes. Fortunately, he remained silent and before they realized it, Grantaire was snoring in his own bed, his long dark hair sprawled on his pillow.

It was past three in the morning but she knew his love for coffee and she was aware that their conversation would be long. Enjolras was not someone she could fool easily. She could repeat that she was ok, he wouldn't believe her and frankly, she was done lying. For once in her life, Éponine was ready to admit that she needed someone to talk to.

She put down the coffee pot on the kitchen table then she filled two mugs which were there already, thanks to Enjolras' gentleman manners, while he took place in front of her. He looked concerned, anxious even, with the tight lips and the frowning. How sweet of him to already worry about something he still didn't know.

"You can talk to me Ép" his voice was smooth, gentle, as if he didn't want to force her but she knew he was dying to know. Not to satisfy some gossip need but because he was her friend. As much as she loved all of les Amis, she still need to adjust to their affection sometimes. Besides Pierre, she hadn't really met anyone who truly cared about her like that.

"I know, you say it like, fifteen times a day" she reminded him and as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew he would take them the wrong way. He became pale, fists clenching on the table on each side of his mug.

"No, no, no, Enj, I don't mean it as a reproach, quite the opposite actually" she corrected her mistake right away, before Enjolras even had the chance to open his mouth. "It's nice to have a friend like you, who… well, who cares."

Now, he was lost. Bahorel, Grantaire, Pontmercy and all of the boys, they were her friends, right? "We all do Éponine" he couldn't help but remind her. She had to know. After all, she was friend with all of them before she even laid eyes on him. If Enjolras had to be honest, the boys cared for her longer than him, especially Bahorel and Grantaire.

"I know. It's just… I can't talk to them. I don't know how to talk to them. Sure, we chat and sometimes one of them confides something to me. All of you, you're so honest with each other. And I love that, it's amazing but… I'm not like that. I can't walk in a room full of people I know and see every day and get everything off my chest. Sometimes I want to but it's too hard, it's just…" She paused, sipping her coffee with a pensive look, as if she was looking for the right words.

"My parents, I told you about them, you know they weren't the most thoughtful parents ever, far from that, but they did teach me a thing or two. Like, well, not to trust anyone with my feelings or to talk about it for hours. When Pierre died, they told me to suck it up and deal with it quietly. Because Thénardiers don't talk about feelings. So yeah, I know I can talk to you and Bahorel and Courf and the rest of you, I know you care, I know it but it's hard Enj'!" Éponine realized she had let her emotions take over when she looked down on her hands which were trembling around the mug. In front of her, Enjolras seemed more worried than ever. Yet he wouldn't breath a word. Damnit. She wanted him to talk, to stop her stupid rant. She wanted him to close this door she just involuntarily opened but of course, kind, empathic Enjolras was probably thinking she needed him to let her keep on ranting about her shitty life to get over it. She had, way before she met him. It was just life and shit happened along the way. She had understood soon enough, as a child, that her father wasn't exactly a paragon of virtue. And she had mourned Pierre, she had grieved for a long time. She had moved on so all this digging up she was doing right now? It was the last thing she needed.

Part of her wanted to get angry at Enjolras, even though it wasn't really his fault. Actually, it was kind of his fault. He was here, ready to listen to her shit while she didn't even knew how to say it. If he hadn't insisted on helping her to bring Grantaire home, she wouldn't have yelled about her stupid feelings at him. Ok and maybe it would have been particularly hard for her to carry their drunk friend back to his apartment — but not the point. Another part of her, though, wanted to hug him and to cling onto him like she always did with her pillow back when she was a little girl during thunderstorms — she still did but again, not the point. Unlike Bahorel and Courfeyrac, he hadn't watched her every more, asking about her well-being every five minutes. She had kinda understood what he had been through after his aggression, except she hadn't been assaulted. She was ok, always had been.

"I got kicked out of my apartment" she finally admitted. Because that was why he was here, right? To talk about what happened to her. Right before the demo. Not way before. "I'm living here now" she added, almost joyously. As if it wasn't a big deal or rather some good news.

"What do you mean you got kicked out? Without any good reason?" Of course he would got on public defender mode. She was pretty sure that what he would end up doing of his life anyway.

"I mean some rich jerks have bought my building and they're going to do some work to make it all pretty and luxurious" she sneered bitterly. "They sent me a check to help me move out but… well, I didn't have a choice. Don't look so furious, I wouldn't have lived there forever anyway. Grantaire offered to let me crash on his couch."

At that, Enjolras couldn't help but frown. Why didn't she ask him? He lived in an apartment way too big for him, since his grandmother left it to him in her will. And there were friends, right? She would be much more comfortable at his place than here, sleeping in a living room that had seen better days.

"Don't get me wrong but why did you ask Grantaire?" He didn't mean to sound so… well, so jealous but he kind of did. Damn.

"I didn't ask, he offered. It just happened. I guess he was at the right place, at the right moment" she shrugged again and Enjolras had to fight the urge to say something with all he got. It was a big deal, she couldn't keep on acting as if being forced — paid, even — to move out of her apartment was something that happened every damn day.

"Could've been Courf or I dunno, could've been you. I'm just glad there was— is" she corrected herself "someone to offer me their couch. I know I wouldn't have asked any of you otherwise."


Of course she wouldn't. Éponine was too proud for that. She didn't want people, especially her friends, to feel sorry for her.

"Would you please say something? It's kinda boring to do all the talking" she joked. Her tone was light but there was something fake in it, which her eyes matched but the mood desperately needed to be lighten. Why did she always end up spilling all of her secrets to him anyway? It had happened a lot lately and she wasn't sure it was her brightest idea.

"Well, I must admit that Grantaire is a good friend but Éponine, this couch… do you even know what happened on it? Marius and Cosette make out on this every time we have a gathering here and I'm pretty sure Courf had sex on it" he stated with a disgusted look for the sofa. Éponine just rolled her eyes.

"And I'm not even talking about all the liquids that have been spilled on it—"

"Ok, Enj, I get it, it's not the most clean thing to sleep on but don't worry, I'm not staying here forever" she laughed, picturing Grantaire and herself, in their late eighties, in this tiny apartment. No, she wouldn't live here forever. Absolutely not.

"No you won't, because you're going to live with me!" Enjolras exclaimed with a lazy grin that make her heart melt. He looked genuinely happy and she couldn't fight the smile which was forming on her lips, even though she was going to stop him right here. Éponine knew what he was doing, he wanted to help but she was a big girl. She would be fine, she just had to find the right place.

"No I'm not" she retorted firmly. If Lady Luck was on her side, Enjolras would be too tired to continue this conversation. As a matter of fact, she was. It had been a quite busy day, between her classes and the demo. How could he even sound so enthusiastic at this hour?

But it was forgetting that Enjolras was indefatigable. No wonder the boys called him the marble man. Or maybe it was the coffee. He had nearly drunk the whole mug in one go.

"Yes, you are!" he insisted. "And I don't mean as a guest, ok? Not that I need money but, you know, we could be roommates. I'm pretty easy-going and despite what everyone says, I do know how to cook. I won't be looking over your shoulder every time you do something and all I'll ever ask is not to throw a party without telling me first. What do you think?"

For a few seconds, she wondered if he knew about her apartment issues before she told him. He seemed really serious about his proposition so he had to know, right? Because who seriously proposed to a friend to move in with them in the heat of the moment? Well, Gabriel Enjolras obviously. However it was late, too late to make this kind of decision, too late to talk about it or even too late to think about it.

"Enj, I… I'm tired, ok, and I don't really want to make plans like that right now. It's late" she said even if it was pretty obvious. "We're going to sleep, come on!"

"What?"

"After what happened, don't even try to convince me to let you come back home at this hour, alone" she mumbled while she got up, taking their mugs and putting them in the sink. She would take care of this tomorrow morning. Or even afternoon, she was fine with afternoon since it was Saturday — which means no class and evening shift at the Musain.

"I'm not sleeping in R's bed, not a chance in hell!" he sounded alarmed and when she turned back to him, his face was so ridiculous she cracked a laugh.

"Don't worry, he has a chair-bed in his room, I'll bring it here. I have to go get his pillow anyway, it's probably cleaner than those!"

Enjolras watched her disappear in Grantaire's bedroom with a grin on his face. She hadn't say anything yet but he knew she would accept his proposition.


There. Err, if someone has anything to say, good or bad, leave a review, it could make my day (or make me cry but crying means feelings which means inspiration... somehow).

Have a nice day/evening/night!

Julia

(Thanks to Ceara for telling me that the AN was in the middle of the chapter. Sorry about that)