Happy International Kissing Day! (I was so ready to send this out yesterday, and then guess what happened...went to save the last part and FF said I had to sign in. Does anyone else hate when that happens? Seriously bugs the crap out of me. grrrr)
Yeah, so this chapter jumps around a bit. Well, a lot. It starts off in mid-January and then ends in mid-February. It also jumps from POVs. I'll make it clear who is speaking, but just so you know, it'll start off as Eponine talking, then Enjolras (a very short section), and then Eponine again.
Disclaimer: Any day now I'll own Phantom 25th!
"Enjolras?" I opened his door up a little. I knew he was up from the candle light casting a glow into the hallway. After hearing the ruffling of papers, I opened the door fully to find him standing at the foot of his bed. The bed was covered in all sorts of books and papers, clothes and linens, soaps and lotions. For a moment I was afraid he was leaving me. And everyone else. "What's wrong?" I added nervously.
"Oh," He cleared his throat. "Nothing, I'm just reorganizing before Grantaire gets back. He'll talk my ear off, and I'll get nothing done tomorrow. I suggest you get some rest, too. Cherish the silence." I caught myself grinning along with Enjolras at the thought of Grantaire rambling on about something.
"I can help you."
"No!" He half shouted. I stopped in mid-step. "Sorry, I just mean that I've seen your organizing, and I'd much rather do this on my own."
I laughed, "You have to know I don't actually consider that organizing." I smiled and started putting his books back on the shelf in alphabetical order by subject and author. "I only do that to get your attention." I admitted. I smiled at one of the romance novels I quoted during dinner once.
"My attention?"
"Well, of course." I said as Enjolras brought a stack of books over. "It doesn't really work, though, does it?"
"It's mostly irritating."
"Good." My smile widened. At least I knee I could get any kind of rise from him.
We spent a good half an hour organizing the books on the shelves, making sure they were all in correct placement. None of them were allowed to be too close to the edge, but they also weren't allowed to be pushed too far back. He had all these rules that just a simple book had to follow. God only knows how he managed to get a group full of simple-minded university boys to heel to his every command. I suppose that was all in the beauty and mystery that is Enjolras. Azelma and I think he might have been a King or something in a past life. He was such a charismatic person. If you look at him, you feel the need to listen to him. If you listen to him, you feel the need to believe in what he's saying. And once you're there, Enjolras has you under his spell. He probably could have been a general in an army, too. You'd probably have to have a whole hell of a lot of charisma to convince people to die for something they really not need die for. Really. What is so important that you'd lead hundreds of innocent men to their death? I glanced at Enjolras. The Revolutionary. Yes, he probably was a general.
What would I have been? A peasant still? A lady? I felt like I would have still been stealing bread from bins, pies from windows, and things like that. I can't even imagine living life any other way. But, I am, though. Right? I'm as close to living like a lady now than I ever have been. I sent Enjolras another glance as he put things in drawers. Would I have known him in a past life? Would he have given a second glance to a poor girl on the street?
"What are you thinking about?" Enjolras's question caught me off guard. Was I staring at him? I hope he didn't think anything of it.
"Is it because of a girl?" I asked.
"What?" He hissed, his attitude suddenly changing.
I dropped a hair pin on the floor, and Enjolras, as expected, rushed to pick it up. "Is it because of a girl?" I repeated.
Enjolras turned the pin over and over in his fingers before setting it down on the dresser. I watched him pace about the room a bit, removing things from his bed and setting them somewhere else as he did. I knew he wasn't avoiding my question, contemplation was written all over his face. I really wasn't expecting a full blown confession from him, but a simple 'yes' or 'no' would ease my curious mind until later. There had to have been a girl. He wouldn't be this quiet if there wasn't. He would be such a good kisser if there wasn't. I've never met a prude who's as good of a tease and kisser as Enjolras is. I guess all I wanted was for him to say that there was or had been a girl. His lady!
I had nearly forgotten about her. Maybe he's been pinning after her for a while. What did Grantaire say? Well, maybe that year he had no classes on Tuesdays, he met this lady and started this clean fanatic rage. Oh, that had to be it. I frowned at the thought of his lady. Did it make me a horrible person for not thinking of her? I did promise him I'd help him win her affections, and here I was trying to win his affections so that I could get into his money. I took a step towards the door. It probably did make me horrible. Here I was complaining that other girls were standing in the way of Marius being with me, and I was standing in the way of Enjolras truly and entirely pursuing this lady he admired. But the money...I needed that money so much. More than words can express. It's not just about breaking away from our parents. It was a whole new type of freedom that being independent couldn't even begin to compare to. I pushed down my worries and trouble and gathered my will back from the ground. I put a hand on Enjolras's arm to stop him from wearing down his poor floor boards.
"I'm sorry." I said softly. "I shouldn't have asked." I added, kissing his knuckles.
"A story for another time." He mutter dejectedly as he stared down at me.
I nodded and peeled my night clothes off until I was standing in from of him with only my camisole on. Enjolras followed suit but left his pants on. I'll admit I was glad for that one. As much as most of my body ached for him, I don't think I had the nerve just yet. Pretty ironic, huh? A prostitute not ready for another bed. I crawled into his bed and under the covers, waiting for him to join me. The whole idea of what we were doing sounded so awkward to me. We weren't talking, just getting into bed with one another. We weren't even kissing or touching. Just getting into bed. Well, I mean, there would be kissing and there would be touching, but the steps leading up to it. It was like watching Aiden try and be with a girl. He wouldn't know the first thing to do.
"What are we doing?" Enjolras whispered as we laid in his bed, close enough for me to feel how excited the anticipation was making him.
"Something new." I answered, stealing a timid kiss.
Enjolras closed the space between us, and soon we were picking up where he left off during dinner. There was no one to walk home, Azelma was dead asleep, so it was just me and Enjolras and the night. Enjolras muttered something about what we were doing, and it caused my to smile against his lips. Even though I wasn't looking for anything overly sexual tonight, my body betrayed me by involuntarily rolling my hips against Enjolras's. It was his undoing. Enjolras rolled us over and deepened our kisses, heated up the touches, and made it impossible for me to think clearly. I dragged my nails down his back, squeezed his ass, and dug into his shoulders as he nipped and sucked at my collarbone. Every little touch was passionate. Every little moan was intoxicating. Every little movement had me falling deeper and deeper into this erotic descent into pleasure. Was I having the same effect on him as he was having on me? I rolled us back over and returned his favor. I kissed my way down his chest to the start of his pants then back up, rubbing my leg against his bulge as I did.
On my back again. His hand dipped under my camisole as his tongue entered my mouth. This was pure agony. Sweet, sweet agony. I needed to stop it, though, because if we kept going, I couldn't promise myself that I wouldn't stop him from doing anything he wanted to me. Just a few more moments. I could let his hand get higher, or lower, and then stop him. He may have been on top, but I was still in charge. His hand roamed up, and just before it could reach it's destination, I grabbed his wrist and broke the kiss. Damn, Thenardier.
"Wait." I panted. Enjolras took back his hand, and I tried willing my voice to stay firm. "Not tonight, not like this."
"Like what?" He asked before flopping down next to me.
I turned over on my side and held myself up with my elbow, "Like in the middle of the night when you could fall asleep on me at any time."
Enjolras let out a short laugh, "I wouldn't fall asleep." He sent me a glance. "I'm full of stamina." He added, looking at the ceiling with a smirk.
I rubbed my leg over his crotch and grinned at the reaction. Enjolras turned on his side with his back facing me. I rolled my eyes. I scooted across the bed to him and wrapped my arm around his mid. I kissed his shoulder blade and nipped at the crook of his neck. Enjolras took my hand and kissed it's palm before placing it back where it had been.
"Tell me about something." I said against the back of his neck.
"What?"
"Anything." I kissed his shoulder.
"I ran away from home when I was sixteen." Enjolras stroked my hand with his thumb. I stopped kissing his back. "I haven't seen my parents in nearly seven years. I don't even think my father considers me his son anymore."
Guilt washed over my body like a tidal wave. "Why?"
"Would you believe it was because I couldn't handle my father's rebel ways?" I could hear the smile in his voice. I told him I couldn't. "I use to think that France's politics were a gift from God. Our government could do no wrong, we were at the top because of them."
"What changed your mind?" I asked, frowning at his back.
"Paris." He shook his head. "I stayed with some family in the slums for about a month before I met Grantaire in the library." Grantaire in a library? "Mind you, this was before he took residence at the bars. He let me stay with his family around the University. We talked a lot, and he sort of helped me form into the man I am today. Elle moved to the city when I was twenty, we've been sharing an account ever since."
"Does your father know about you now?" I pushed him down on his back, so I could get a good look at him. I was intrigued. "Doesn't he hear word or whisper of things you're trying to accomplish?"
"I don't even know what I'm trying to accomplish."
"A rebellion." I replied quickly.
Enjolras squeezed my arm, "You've already made it clear that people from the slums will not listen to me."
"Well, yeah, with your approach." I laid on top of him. "People don't like being talked at, they like being talked to. You can't just walk into a neighborhood and tell them that they're being ruled the wrong way and this is the way they should be ruled. Their people just like you, they like choices and explanations. They'll confide in someone they trust and trust in someone they know. You can't let your ignorance of a certain class keep you from trying to converse with them. There's an old woman two blocks from the Inn, she's the most educated woman I know. She knows Freud, Jung, Moses, and Locke. Another three blocks and you'll find a man who use to work for the crown before they let him go with nothing to his name. You spend a week down there and you'll find more people to fight for than you'll find in your books."
"I have no time to talk to the slum residents."
I shoved his shoulder. "You have time to make fictional attacks plans, preach to a bunch of boys who will follow you no matter what, and play cat-mouse with me; but you have no time to get to know my people?"
"My plans aren't fictional, boys need to be reminded, and you are a handful." Enjolras paused. "Did you hear that?"
"Yes, it was my intelligence dropping at the stupidity of your justifications." I snapped. "Your plans are fiction until you gain the support of the people you're supposed to be fighting for; if you jumped off a cliff in the name of France, your schoolboys would follow; and I can keep my fantasies to myself." I purred the last part into his ear.
"No, I really heard something." Enjolras got me out of the bed with him. We took a candle after getting dressed in our night clothes and went into the living room. It was still, everything in the same place it had been before we went into our own rooms at the beginning of the night. I used his candle to light one of my own. He check the kitchen, and I peered into the dining room. Everything was clear. "I could have sworn-"
There it was. The same cry that ruining our evening on Monday. This time it was much louder and much more shrill. I really thought my heart stopped beating from the shock of it all. Azelma's shrieks were followed by some lower pitched shouts and exclamations. Grantaire. Of course. Enjolras lead me down the hallway to Grantaire's bedroom. And there was the drunk with his shirt off, trying desperately to get it on as Azelma threw things that had cluttered the floor at him.
15 January 1831
Azelma glared at Grantaire as they both poked at their lunch. Grantaire had thought it was me who he had stumbled in bed with. He said he was so drunk that he would have groped just about anyone. Needless to say, Azelma wasn't happy about the idea of him wanting to feel me up either. She was so upset that she didn't even bother to ask where I had been while all this was happening. Her mind was too livid to process anything other than her anger. They were both rather amusing to watch. Grantaire, who was well aware of the looks the girl was giving him, sat there and moved his soup around bowl, scooping it up and then dripping it back in the bowl. And as fun as it was to watch the two, most of me wished Enjolras was here. He was all that I could think about since last night. Between my guilt and my desire, I was aching for him.
"Where'd Enjolras go?" Grantaire finally said after all of our bowls were cold.
"The library." I said certainly. Then added, "I think." to make it sound like I wasn't sure. Although, I knew for a fact he went to the library to get his work done. There were too many distractions here for him. It was probably just me, though.
"Maybe you should join him." Azelma told Grantaire.
The drunk stared at her with his mouth open for a second before responding, "I'd much rather stay here and bother you." He grinned mockingly.
"Grantaire." I pleaded. "Can you two manage to be by yourselves for two hours tops? I need to take care of some things."
"You're leaving me alone with him?" Azelma barked. "What if he tried touching me again?"
"Oh, get over yourself, darling." Grantaire rolled his eyes. "The only reason you nearly got a taste of the Great R is because I thought you were your sister." Grantaire took a swig from his cup.
"Do you see what I'm talking about?" Azelma waved her hand at Grantaire.
After leaving the bickering children to clean up lunch, I slipped into my rags and hurried from the flat before either of them could cut me off. I took the familiar path to the Inn, stopping and talking to random vendors who I passed on the way. I gave some of them change I was carrying around with me and others advice on where they could find clients looking for their merchandise. Sometimes I thought that being a vendor was probably worse than being a prostitute. Vendors would be away from their families for days on end, their goods were stolen all the time, and most days no one was buying what they were selling. At least with prostitutes, there was always business in a city like Paris. My father usually let merchants stay at the Inn for a discount price. He knew you couldn't beat change out of an empty pocket. He never took things from them for a half price either. He saw no point of only giving them the money they'd eventually pay him to stay at the Inn.
Madame Tulan lived in this tiny hole in the wall type of garret. It was a ground floor space since she could barely walk without tripping over her own two feet. Most of the time it smelt like a dead animal. But today the odor that was coming from it reminded me of Enjolras after he bathed. I felt a little less anxious about walking in. The old woman was sitting in her chair when I walked into the small living space. It was neat and organized, her blanket had been folded, her hair pinned, the sleep and crust build-up from her eyes had been cleaned. All of this told me that Gavroche had been around to see her recently. He took good care of her, and she gave him money for food in return.
"Who is that?" The old blind woman hissed.
"It's me, Madame." I said softly.
"Thenardier?"
"Eponine." I nodded although I knew she couldn't see me.
"I heard some bourgeois bought you for the month."
"He's a boy at the University up there."
"What are you here for?"
"He's a revolutionary." That's all I needed to say to get the old woman to groan in annoyance. She never liked dealing with anything outside of her garret or her books. Thinking on it, it's strange how similar she and Enjolras were.
"Let the bourgeois think they need to meddle in our affairs; we're better than to try and meddle in theirs, girl."
"Please." I whispered, grabbing her hands. She ran her thumb over my knuckles then flipped my hands over to feel my fingers, palm, and then pulse. "He's dear to me, and I know in a few months time he's going to enact whatever scheme he has going on in that mind of his. I want to change his mind. He's going to be coming to see you soon, but I need something more substantial than an old woman's word." I hoped she understood what I was saying.
"When'll he be coming?"
"When I bring him."
Tulan rubbed my hands between hers and then patted them. "By the window nearest the door." She nodded in the direction of the door. "Might as well grab a handful. Come see me at the end of the month, girl." Madame Tulan said as a finality.
.Enjolras's POV. Enjolras's POV. Enjolras's POV. Enjolras's POV.
18 January 1831
Eponine sat at the window, staring down at the streets of Paris below her. Not that she could actually see the streets of Paris through the sheet of white outside. It had been snowing all weekend since the end of the day on Thursday. Elle was supposed to come in on Saturday night, but no trains were leaving London, which was where she said she'd be coming from. I took my eyes off of Eponine and went back to reading. I'll admit, part of my wished that Elle would stay gone a bit longer. The second she got back, she and Eponine would pick up right where they left off in teaching Eponine how to attract Pontmercy's attention. She would just get more and more beautiful. And for what? So Pontmercy could tell her that she'd never be more than a friend to him? I didn't understand how someone so quick to pick up everything else couldn't see what was right in front of her. She'd been pining after him for God knows how long, and he had yet to share a hint of affection. Eponine was wishful, but I was starting to think the line between wishful and dreamer was thin.
I watched her shift positions so that her head was leaning against the window. She'd been acting strange for the past few days or so. The flat hadn't been rearranged once, several times I caught her popping some leaves in her mouth, and Grantaire said she'd been sneaking out randomly. Don't get me wrong, she wasn't always in a depressive type of mood. If Grantaire and Azelma were out of the room, she wanted to play. Twice I've come home from running errands to find her naked in my bed. And once she offered to share a bath with me. A few times at dinner or when we'd be sitting in the parlor afterwards she would pick up her double meaning conversations like she always did when Grantaire was around. It amazed me how both of them were talking about two different things, but their conversations made perfect sense. Then there were the late nights when she would sneak in my bedroom after her sister and Grantaire had fallen asleep. But other than those times, whenever I saw her, she was usually reading one of my more lamentable books or just moping around.
The effect she was having on me was strange. She was the biggest distraction I've ever had. I should have been studying for my classes and making plans for the rebellion with Courfeyrac; instead, my one-month-ahead plan was lagging, and all my papers designated to the rebellions were sitting in the bottom drawer of my desk. The worst part was that I was well aware of the fact that she was a distraction, and yet I let her keep doing all the things that put my attention in her hands. She was my greatest weakness. I ached for her in places that hadn't ached in a while. Most of the ABC would tell you that they would go to Hell and back for Eponine, but I can assure you that I'm the only one who actually would. I would do anything for her. Almost anything.
"Enjolras..." Eponine started just as I was getting back to my book. I looked back up at her. She was up from her spot at the window and smoothing her dress out like she always did when she was nervous. "Will you help me draw a bath?"
"It's only Monday." I knew she bathed on Wednesdays and Saturdays.
"I'm mixing things up." She smirked, heading out of the room.
"Marius and that girl haven't talked for a few days. He doesn't mention her at all." I told Eponine after we had the tub full of hot water.
"Yeah?" I tried reading her response, but it was neutral.
She was remarkable. I helped her gather the things Elle told her that she needs for a proper bath. I'm not like the other guys who have only started becoming attracted to Eponine intellectually, romantically, and sexually because of her change in living. Joly has to prepare himself before he can check out her wounds, because he's so afraid of getting an erection while she undresses. Courfeyrac's been sitting near the back during the meetings just so he can sit with her when she arrives late, as always. Feuilly tries fruitlessly to start up a conversation with or about her, and all he gets is a laugh, because we're all trying to pretend like nothing has changed. She's still the same Eponine who's been with us from the first time she stumbled through the doors looking for Pontmercy. I handed her the brush that was in my top drawer. It wasn't anything new to me, though. She'd always been this mysteriously beautiful girl. Intriguing, really. How many urchins could you find who read and understood philosophy, law, and religion? Lotions, brushes, and baths only heightened Eponine's beauty. Even Grantaire knew it.
Eponine moved her hair over her shoulder for me to undo the buttons and ties or her dress. I kissed the crook of her neck as I slowly undid her dress. I'm not the prude she claims me to be. I mean, I'm certainly not like Grantaire who has had more girls than he can count on two hands, but I haven't been in the dark completely. I've loved, lost, and moved on. Now I have my books and studies to keep me company. I left kisses from the crook of her neck to her shoulder.
"Enjolras." Eponine moaned, turning around to face me. She put her hand on my face and traced my lips with her thumb. "We shouldn't do this."
"Sh." I hushed her.
"We can't." She said but kissed me anyway.
"Let me make love to you." I whispered as she nipped at my bottom lip. It was her favorite thing to do. Nipping.
Eponine grinned as I pecked her lips lightly, "You don't love me."
"I'm starting to." I said before she took control.
She back us into the bed, peeling my clothes off and discarding them in random directions. By the time we got to the bed, I was in nothing but my pants and she in nothing but Elle's camisole. And here we were. In a spot we had been in plenty of times before, but I knew this time was different. I could feel it, and I hoped Eponine didn't have any please to tease crap planned. I wanted -no, needed- her too much to play around tonight. I made to flip us over so I was on top, but Eponine grabbed my wrists and held them on either side of my head. A wicked smirk graced her face, and she licked her lips. She ground her hips into mine as she brought her lips close my my ear. Her breath on my skin gave my body goose bumps up and down.
"No." She breathed simply. "I'm in charge."
Eponine's POV. Eponine's POV. Eponine's POV. Eponine's POV.
7 February 1831
I pressed my face against the cool ground as I waited for another wave of vomit to wash over me. It had been about a month since I'd seen Madame Tulan, and I was not aware that the symptoms would take this long to show up. If I had known I would have found another way to keep Enjolras's attentions. I grinned to myself before a round of nausea hit me again. The sex was certainly keeping him up all night. It was great sex. Definitely. I hurled into the bucket as Azelma held my hair back and rubbed my back soothingly. Last week's nausea was enough to keep me from staying in his room all night, but we still got our fill in. It was quite exciting, having to hide it from the rest of the house. Like a game. Not that they paid much attention to us anyway. Grantaire and Azelma (gross) were too busy flirting with each other, and Elle was occupying her time with keeping a keen eye on the pair. That's how I was sure that there had been something going on with Elle and Grantaire. Jealousy is a loud-mouthed bitch.
I hurled into the bucket again.
"Maybe it was those eggs Grantaire made this morning." Azelma suggested as she tied my hair back with the ribbon that had been wrapped around her wrist. "I thought they tasted funny; and, don't tell anyone, they made me a little gassy while Elle was doing my hair." She added with a snicker.
"What's wrong?" Enjolras's voice asked somewhere behind me as I bent over the bucket again.
"I think Grantaire's eggs got her sick." Azelma told him. "She was just telling me how queasy she was, and then..." Her voice trailed off as she must have pointed in the direction where my first vomit landed.
"Do you need me to do anything?" He cleared his throat. Yes, be careful, someone might mistake your tone for worrisome. I rolled my eyes.
"Can you buy some chamomile, so I can make some tea with it? Mama use to make it to calm our nerves and stomach." Azelma turned back to me once he left. She handed me a glass of water to rinse my mouth out with and felt my face. "You're a little warm. I'll have Enjolras go get some kind of mint leaves, too." Azelma patted my arm and hurried out to catch Enjolras before he left.
"My eggs were perfect." Grantaire leaned in the doorway not a second after Azelma bolted from the room, "So Marius is out of the picture then?"
"What are you talking about?" I hissed. Stupid drunk and his nonsense ramblings.
"I'm not blind, Thenardier." He laughed. "Well, I guess in this case deaf." He added then purred and moaned loudly in mock. I blushed before my stomach decided to spill it's contents again. Grantaire groaned as he plopped down on the ground next to me, redoing the tie that Azelma had made. "I don't know what you two are up to aside from the obvious, but don't hurt him, Eponine. He's a good man, and he's found the best. I will make sure you never leave the slums if you hurt him." He said it so sweetly that the threat was even more menacing.
I nodded in understanding, but my stomach tossed and turned even more-so than before.
So...? I'm not a big fan of writing about characters first times. I don't know why, I'm just not. But I promise, there will be more Eponine/Ejolras stuff;)
What did you guys think about the visit to Tulan's? Fair warning: There was a BIG misconception.
Anyway, I'm hoping to get the next chapter up by the end of the week! In the time until...please review!:)
