So I started this chapter and absolutely hated it, so here is my rewrite. If you have any suggestions, please put it in the reviews or PM me, and we can put that idea into action. I am writing this chapter at about 2am in the morning on my iPod, so, forgive any typos or mistakes. As always, Enjoy! Love, thegirlholdingthewords

Eponine was ill. Although, it was hardly surprising, considering she had just tramped outside in the pouring rain, wearing a thin cotton sheath. Enjolras was worried, she could tell. She wanted to reassure him, but her tongue felt too thick and heavy, and her mind spun too dizzyingly for her to actually say something. It was in this time, she realized that she had never noticed how sweetly blue his eyes were when he was worried.

Her brain screamed, You've already fallen hard once for Marius! Was he there to catch you? No, and your heart ended up shattered on the ground. Her heart badgered her; Enjolras is different. He's your best friend! But both her heart and her mind sang in agreement: He only likes you as a friend, nothing more, and he never ever will. The best thing, Eponine thought with a touch of irony, that through all this to love him, to love him not business, she had gotten over Marius.

She wasn't sure when it had happened, but Marius brown eyes no longer came to her, and she could hardly remember what he looked like! Instead, she dreamt of a certain leader with blue eyes and brownish/blonde curls. She dreamed of safety and comfort. Sometimes she called out in the night, and she was barely able to see her friends' worried faces swimming above her.

Yes, Eponine truly was very ill. When Joly came, he declared the cause was more of infection of her side wound than standing out in the rain. He prescribed at least six different types of medicines, which a worried, reproachful Anne fed to her, and faithfully slathered along the infected flesh, along with bites of bread, if she could stomach it, and sips of tea.

She was delirious most of the time, crying and calling out like a madwoman. It fairly broke Gavroche's bruised heart into two, to see his proud, independent sister crying like a wee babe. Enjolras comforted Gavroche, but it was clear his words were empty. Who actually knew if she would live? Not him, nor Joly , who, once again, declared it up to God and Eponine's will to live. So Enjolras prayed. Even when he wasn't on his knees, his soul was.

God answered though, it seemed, and Eponine began the long, slow climb back towards health.

Enjolras stood at the window, pacing. Some days, it seemed, he thought, that she was much better. Other days, she seemed worse. Eponine hadn't really woken up for two days, and he missed the mischievous glint in her coffee brown eyes. Even when she opened her eyes, they were the dull, lifeless eyes of a person who had no interest in living. "Enjolras?" he turned quickly, to see Eponine staring at him. "Cuddle with me, please. I'm so cold and scared..." she slurred, still half asleep. "Please..." Enjolras opened his mouth to protest, then saw her sleepy, sad doe eyes, and slipped under the covers next to the girl. She snuggled in close, rubbing her cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt. He smiled softly and wrapped his arms around the shivering girl, who immediately relaxed and seemed to melt into him. "Thank you," she slurred again. She managed a drooping smile before Joly's medicines pulled her back under. "I love you."

Enjolras froze as he heard her say the word 'love'. Did she really? No, he sighed. She meant as a best friend. He placed his scruffy chin on Eponine's silky smooth hair. "Sleep tight, Ponine."

Eponine awoke, and for a moment, forgot where she was. She looked up to see Enjolras's sleeping face. She felt much much better, and giggled quietly as hiss long, pale eyelashes fluttered against his skin, Sleeping her now, Enjolras looked much younger. Sensing she should let him sleep, she carefully untangled herself from his arms and plodded to the front door, ignoring the stinging pain in her side.

Suddently, she gasped. Tacked on the porch was a note - white paper, red letters. COMING FOR YOU.

Did you like it? phew, that was hard. I thought this was a cutesy chapter, but a lot of action will be coming up. Thanks for
reading, and I'll see you tomorrow! Love, thegirlholdingthewords