[AN: Title is from Anberlin. Thanks to Inge/ThinksInWords again for the beta and for everyone who has left a review/followed/added this story to their favorites. Seeing those email alerts make me smile. ]

Three quick raps startle Enjolras from his reverie. He turns to see his best friend standing beneath the open door frame and holding a small paper box in one hand.

"Are you busy? Aunt Sophie let me in," Combeferre asks as he enters the study.

"Revising, but I could use a break. I thought you had a paper to write?" The blond man fishes for a bookmark for his International Law textbook. He probably needs to re-read the entire chapter anyway due to his poor concentration.

Combeferre shrugs. "Oh, proofread and emailed it already. I could have finished it earlier, but Courf was being his exuberant self again."

"I wonder how you manage to finish anything when he likes to drop by unannounced so often." While he has wished that Courfeyrac went to Harvard with him, Enjolras doesn't miss Courfeyrac's tendency to bother people when there are papers to be written.

The tall, bespectacled man just mildly smiles at that comment. "I'm used to his shenanigans and I really don't mind. He did bring a peace offering of sorts. Which I'm sharing with you, because you're my best friend." He carefully drops the container on his desk.

"Which is?" he asks as he reaches to open the package.

"Cake."

That single word stops Enjolras and he turns to frown at him. "'Ferre..."

His friend rolls his eyes and leans against the table. "Oh come on, like you didn't expect me to ask you about it. How are you dealing with seeing Éponine again for the first time since you left?"

"I'm fine," he curtly replies.

"Really," Combeferre says, disbelief coloring that single word.

He just huffs in annoyance. "It's been years. I can handle seeing her again. I did handle seeing her again just fine."

The only reply he receives is a single eyebrow raised. Goddamnit, Combeferre.

"It was a mutual decision for us to break up. I got accepted to Harvard, she still had her siblings to take care of. We couldn't have handled a long-distance relationship on top of everything else. It was for the best."

Combeferre's eyebrow just rises higher. "...Mutual, huh?"

"...What."

He lets out an irritated growl, feeling somewhat disappointed at catching him at his lie but also having expected such an answer from him. "You're the most stubborn person I know. If you wanted a long-distance relationship to work, you would have found a way to do so. Or you could have studied somewhere nearer here. But knowing Éponine, she couldn't handle being the one reason you'd give up your dream school, so she called it quits. And then you ran away and let the love of your life slip away. Did I miss anything?" Combeferre pointedly asks.

Enjolras looks stunned and opens his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. He sighs and slumps in his chair. "I... Combeferre, why are we even discussing this? That was between Éponine and I. And it's—"

"It's really none of my business, I know," he interrupts, tone getting sharper with every word. "But you're my best friend and I've known you for ages. I can tell your mood by a glance, and you hiding away and rarely visiting hasn't changed that. Oh, and by the way, you really should apologize to your parents about that."

Enjolras gets the feeling that perhaps Combeferre is not only pertaining to his parents in this instance. He wants to defend himself but the look on his best friend's normally calm face shuts him up. Combeferre has something to say, and he should damn well be listening.

"But I'll yell at you for that next time. Let's stick to the subject you've been avoiding for years, shall we? The fact is, you still love her — you never stopped loving her — but you're still running away. That's what I can't understand," he continues. "If you could have just seen the look on your face when you saw her again. I'm not Jehan, but I swear, the only way to describe you was lovestruck. As lovestruck as you were years ago."

The blond man looks away. Whatever spark of hope he has cherished since that day at the Musain has been stamped down by doubt and overthinking. It's too much to believe that Éponine still cares for him, after all this time.

"It means nothing. Not if she doesn't want me back. And from the looks of it, Éponine doesn't," he finally says.

Combeferre sighs in annoyance at his friend's unusually despondent reply. "You're right. If she doesn't feel the same way, it wouldn't matter. And of course, you would know exactly what she's thinking now. It's not like she tends to hide her feelings behind sarcasm and nonchalance, right?"

"Just... just drop it, 'Ferre," the blond man quietly pleads.

Combeferre searches his face for several seconds and loudly exhales. "Fine, if that's what you want. Oh, and by the way, you should eat this before the frosting melts. I haven't had it in years. I'm glad Éponine made a batch of these again."

Enjolras confusedly stares at his best friend. "Huh?"

He only gestures to the box on the table before making his way out of the room. He pauses at the door and looks back at him.

"It's red velvet cupcake, your favorite."