"Eponine!" Marius cried, stumbling and slipping as he ran across the rain-slicked cobblestones after his friend. "Eponine," he repeated once he had caught up to her. "'Ponine, how could you be so rude to Joly?"
The gamine grimaced and turned her face away. "I don't want to talk about this, M'sieur."
"'Ponine, you should really go back and apologize …"
"Just drop it, M'sieur!"
Marius' mouth fell open at her acrid tone, but he held his tongue. Grumbling under her breath, Eponine wrapped her arms about herself and increased the space between herself and Marius by several paces. As she turned a street corner, she glanced down at her feet and felt a sharp stab of guilt at the sight of those lovely shoes. She ought to rip them off of her thieving feet and hurl them into the river. But the thought of getting rid of them now seemed absolutely unbearable. And so the shoes stayed on, burning and branding her with every step she took.
"So …" Marius said cautiously after a moment. He cleared his throat. "You and Joly. How long has that been going on, 'Ponine?"
The gamine nearly fell over. "What did you say?"
"Oh, uh … are you two not courting?"
"What … no!" Eponine shrieked. "No, no, it's nothin' like that! No!"
"Oh, s-sorry!" Marius cried, surprised by his friend's vehemence. "I-I just … well, I just assumed that … well, I don't know. Joly seems to care about you a great deal. And the two of you have been spending a lot of time together and … now he's giving you presents! What was I supposed to think?"
His words sent a foreboding chill down Eponine's spine. What? She stared at the shoes, her heart hammering in her ears. No. No, it couldn't be. Joly was only giving these shoes as a friend, wasn't he?
He … he didn't like her, did he?
Eponine snorted and coughed out a humorless laugh. Like her? Like her? Ha! That's absurd. Joly couldn't possibly be attracted to her. An ugly, filthy little street urchin like her? Ridiculous. Joly was too good, too pure to want to be saddling himself with a wretch like her.
And besides … he had his Musichetta, whoever she was. There was no way he would ever be interested in her if his heart was already taken.
"So … I guess that's a no?" Marius said.
Eponine shook her head. "No, M'sieur," she replied. Though she couldn't understand why saying it made her feel more than a little sad.
"Alright. My mistake. That must mean Joly's still with 'Chetta, then." Marius chuckled and clicked his tongue. "Have you ever met Musichetta, 'Ponine?"
"No," Eponine replied. And she was quite sure she never wanted to.
"Oh, I think you'd like her. She's a real treat. Great fun at parties. But with 'Chetta, you never know what you're going to get. She can be sunshine and rainbows one day, and then rain and gloom the next. She drives Joly and Bossuet quite batty with her mood swings. I don't know how they put up with it. Or how they put up with sharing her, for that matter." He laughed. "Ah, well. To each his own, I suppose. 'Chetta's too unpredictable for me. Not the sort of woman I'd ever see myself fancying."
He paused and his eyes turned far away. "Not like … my Ursule."
Eponine's head shot up. "Who?"
Marius blushed, just realizing he'd spoken aloud. "Oh! N-no one Eponine. Just … this lady that I used to see in the Luxembourg Gardens many months ago."
He sighed then, a look of intense longing coming over his face. "Oh, but she was an angel of beauty, Eponine. The loveliest lady I ever laid eyes upon. Hair like spun gold. Eyes of the purest blue I had ever seen. I watched her blossom before my eyes like a summer rose. Even from a distance I could see how she was perfect in manner. Kind. Sweet. Gentle. An angel."
He paused and shook his head. "But alas … she is gone from me. She disappeared one day and never returned. God only knows where she is now."
Marius glanced at Eponine. "I-I don't suppose you've heard of a lady named Ursule before? Or … perhaps a lady of another name starting with 'U'?"
"N-no, M'sieur."
Marius' chest deflated. His expression was absolutely pitiful. "No, of course you haven't. My Ursule could be anywhere in the world for all I know. I doubt I shall ever see her again."
Eponine couldn't speak as she beheld his lovelorn expression. She turned away, her mind caught in the furious whirl of these new revelations.
So! That was it, then. Marius has been in love this entire time! All these months she'd been desperately moaning and pining for Marius when his heart already belonged to someone else!
As the realization fully sank in, Eponine's whole body began to shake. Months of wasted anguish came roaring to the surface, but rather than break down and cry, she wanted to scream!
Marius! You stupid fool! Why didn't you tell me you had an Ursule! Stupid, thoughtless, careless Marius! Why did you let me love you for so long?
Eponine's fists began to throb, aching to hit something hard. She wanted to rail and scream and curse at Marius until his ears bled. But more than anything, she just wanted to kick herself. She felt like such a fool. How could she not have seen this sooner? It all made sense!
If she had only known … but then again, what if she had? If she had known that Marius already loved another, could she have possibly stopped herself from loving him? Eponine imagined not. From the moment she laid eyes on him, Marius had been the very center of her world. She'd loved him wholeheartedly and with such ferocious abandon that it frightened her.
And yet …
At the same time she had always hated him too.
That realization made Eponine gasp aloud. Hate him? She'd hated Marius? No ... how could that be! But the more she thought about it, the more she realized it was true. Yes. She'd hated Marius. She'd hated him for being so blind. So ignorant of her feelings for him. She'd tried to demonstrate her love in so many countless ways, but day after day he never saw her. His stupidity astounded her!
What's more … for all of his acts of kindness toward her, Marius never made Eponine feel like a real human being. He regarded her as a friend, but never as an equal. He treated her with respect but always pitied her more than he liked her. He knew full well of her plight but never really offered her more than a few francs in response.
She supposed she always hated him a little bit more for that.
Mulling over this further, Eponine turned and spared a glance at Marius' face. That unspeakably gorgeous face that once filled her every hope and fantasy. Warm brown eyes returned her gaze and he smiled, making dimples appear upon his perfect cheeks. How could a sight that once heated her very blood now make her feel so very cold?
Perhaps she was being a bit unfair. Marius was a good man. She knew he cared for her in his own way. But his heart … oh his sweet, blessed, unreachable heart. It would never belong to her. That much, at least, was clear to her now. It was useless to dream he would ever be hers. His love … it was never hers to claim. Yesterday such a revelation would have sent Eponine spiraling into the darkest pits of Hell and despair. Yesterday she would have rather flung herself in front of a firing squad than go on living in a world where Marius did not love her. But now …
Now she wasn't sure what she felt.
She felt disappointment, perhaps. And frustration, most certainly, but much of it was aimed at herself. And there was pain, too, like a dull ache, but it felt more like a sting to her pride rather than a sting to her heart.
And as for her heart … this was most perplexing of all. Her heart felt … lighter. Freer. As if there'd been this unbearable weight hanging onto her chest, straining at her every nerve and muscle, and now all of a sudden that burden was lifted and what a joyous relief it was not to carry it anymore! She hadn't realized until then what an affliction it had been to care for Marius. To love him beyond reason as she did had been absolute torture. And what useless agony it had been. Every hopeless tear and bruising of her heart had been all for naught.
What use, then, was there in suffering further? What use, then, was there in yearning for him anymore?
Eponine didn't have much time to contemplate that further. She and Marius had reached the Gorbeau House before she'd even realized it. As they made their way up the stairs to their rooms, Marius kept a light hand upon her back, and she flinched slightly at his touch. She felt none of the heated thrill that usually surged through her veins whenever he touched her before.
They came to a stop in front of her door. Marius turned to Eponine and grasped her gently by the shoulders. "Will you be alright now, 'Ponine?"
Eponine stared silently back at him for a moment, not quite knowing what to say. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Yes, M'sieur. I … I think I'll be alright."
Marius smiled and gave her shoulder a friendly pat. "Good. Let me know if you need anything, 'Ponine. Bonne nuit."
Eponine gazed after him quietly as he turned away and made his way down the hallway to his apartment. "Bonne nuit, M'sieur Marius," she whispered.
And with those words, her heart finally let go of him forever.
XXXXXXXXX
Eponine opened her door just a crack. She slid one foot through the door and prayed to God that her parents were asleep so that she could slip into the apartment unnoticed.
She had no such luck.
"And where have you been all day, girl?" a voice sneered from the shadows.
That had been waiting for her, it seemed. Her father stood up from his desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest, glaring at her menacingly. Her mother stood behind him with her fists planted on her hips, while Azelma sat hunched in the corner, coughing quietly.
Eponine schooled her features and stepped completely into the room, pushing the door closed with her foot. "I was out."
"For two nights? Don't play games with me, girl. What precisely have you been doin'?"
"Does it really matter, Papa? So long as I come home with this?" Eponine yanked the three coins out of her pocket and flashed them before her father's eyes.
Monsieur Thernardier's eyes lit up. He snatched the coins out of her hand and inspected them. "Mm, not bad, my girl. Not bad. Though I'd really expect more from you if you're gonna take a whole two nights to filch 'em." He paused and glanced at her, his eyes roving suggestively over her body. "Unless you didn't earn these by filchin' them. In which case I'd say you've gotta put a higher price on your goods, my girl."
His words caused Eponine to choke with revulsion. You filthy dog!
"Ooh, that'd better not be what you were doing, you little skank," the Madame growled, shaking a fat finger in her daughter's face. "I didn't raise my girls to go out whorin' themselves, mark my words." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously on Eponine's battered arm. She grabbed it roughly and held it up for inspection, causing Eponine to wince in pain. "And what happened here? How'd you get all bruised up?"
"It's nothin'," Eponine lied, tearing her arm free. "Bunch of drunken oafs tried to mess with me and I fought them off. That's all."
"And where'd you get those fancy shoes?" the Madame demanded, glaring down at her daughter's feet.
The gamine cursed under her breath. Thinking quickly, she rolled her eyes as if the answer was obvious. "Same place I got the money."
"Ooh, and you didn't think to snatch a pair or two for me? You're a selfish little rat, thinkin' only of yourself. Well, take those off, then. Let me try 'em on."
"They wouldn't fit your fat hooves, you nasty old hag."
"What did you say?"
"Enough!" the Monsieur interjected, wrapping his arms around his wife's shoulders. "That's enough bickerin' for one night, my love. We can get you some nice shoes of your own later. All that matters now is that our sweet angel is home safe."
The Monsieur stepped forward with a sneer and pressed a kiss to his daughter's forehead. Eponine wrinkled her nose at his foul breath. "Get some sleep now, my dear," he said. "I've got some work for you to do in the mornin'."
Eponine sighed heavily. "Yes, Papa," she muttered.
Once she'd made her way over to her side of the room, Eponine slipped her shoes off and tucked them beneath her corner of the mattress so that no one would try to snatch them in the night. She could hear her parents bickering quietly amongst themselves as they tucked themselves into their own mattress and blew out the light. She lay back and waited patiently in the dark until she heard them both snoring soundly. Then she rolled over and nudged Azelma's shoulder.
"'Zelma, here. Take this," she whispered, slipping the medicine vial out of her pocket and into her sister's palm. "Medicine for your cough. Take one sip every six hours."
Azelma nodded and sat up carefully to take her first dose. She gagged a bit at the bitter taste, but she swallowed it down. "Merci, 'Ponine," she whispered. "How long before it works?"
"Not sure, but if you're still sick when that one runs out, let me know and I'll get you some more. Now go to sleep."
"Alright." With that, the two girls lay back onto their mattress, wriggling in vain to find a comfortable position. Feeling the hard lumps beneath her still aching back, Eponine couldn't help but yearn for the warmth and softness of Joly's bed. But she screwed her eyes shut and tried not to think about that.
Eponine was already near half-asleep when Azelma's voice came to her in the dark.
"Those pretty shoes …. M'sieur Joly gave them to you, didn't he."
Eponine's eyes shot open. She glanced toward her parents' side of the room. Thankfully, they were both still snoring. "Yes, he did," she hissed. "Now go to sleep, 'Zelma."
Her sister hummed thoughtfully. "That M'sieur Joly's been givin' you a lot of nice things lately, 'Ponine."
Eponine's face grew hot all the way to the tips of her ears. "I said, go to sleep."
"And you seem to have been spendin' a whole lot of time with him. Even more time than you've been spendin' with M'sieur Marius, eh?"
"For God's sake, 'Zelma, shut up and go to sleep!"
Azelma giggled, prompting Eponine to kick her hard in the bottom. "'Night, 'Ponine," the girl sang before rolling over and speaking no more.
Eponine groaned and buried her face into the mattress. If anyone else tried to tease her about Joly, she would knock their teeth out. She shut her eyes and swore not to think about Joly or Marius or anyone else that night.
But as sleep overtook her, it was the memory of someone's cheerful, humming voice that carried her off into her dreams.
XXXXXXXX
Two weeks later
The Monsieur gaped stupidly at the treasure that lay his daughter's open palm – her latest loot from the pocketbook of yet another wealthy philanthropist she had charmed.
"Thirty francs, my girl?" he cried. "That old codger gave you thirty francs? Mon Dieu, what sort of acrobatics did you do on his bed for him to pay you like that?"
Eponine grit her teeth, wanting to ram the whole fistful of coins down her father's throat. "I did nothin' like that, you lech. Just told the old man the same sad story I always do. He was weepin' so hard by the end that he practically threw the money at me."
The Monsieur whooped and leaped into the air. "Thirty francs! Would you look at that? Thirty francs!" Grabbing the money, he twirled about the room and kissed each coin one by one. "Ohohoho, just like the good ol' days. We're rich again, I tell you. Rich!"
Eponine shook her head at her father's foolishness. "That'd better be the last job you've got for me, old man. I've done enough for one day."
The Monsieur chuckled and patted her on the cheek. "Right you are, my girl. You've done very well. Go on and take the rest of the day off. In the meantime, I'll have the Patron Minette stake out the house tonight and see if there's anythin' else we can wring out of that wealthy old codger."
"Fine," Eponine muttered, turning and leaving the room without another word. She didn't want to hear anything more about his plans. She was sick of his schemes. She was sick of everything. She was halfway down the stairs to the door when a voice called to her from above.
"Hey, 'Ponine!"
Eponine looked up to see Marius peering down at her over the bannister. "Hey there, M'sieur. What's new with you?"
"Nothing much, Eponine," Marius replied. "Um … Joly was asking about you again."
Eponine flinched at that name and turned quickly toward the door. "Tell him I've been busy."
"Wait! He just wants to know if you read the letter. The one I gave you?"
Eponine's hand tightened on the doorknob. "Yes, M'sieur," she lied.
"Well … maybe you should talk to him, 'Ponine. He seems really worried about you."
"I will." Another lie. But before Marius could press her further, she was already out the door.
Eponine stepped out into the square, blinking in the muted light. It was an especially cloudy afternoon and the entire city of Paris was bathed in grey. The bricks themselves seemed to be drained of color. The people milled about her with their heads down and gloom etched onto every line of their faces. No one looked up. No one smiled. No one greeted one another as they passed by. No one laughed or skipped or hummed or sang. There was not a single friendly face to be found.
She let out a heavy sigh. What a dreary looking world.
"Hey! 'Ponine!"
Eponine turned toward the direction of the shout. Gavroche? Her eyes widened as a band of four little boys came running across the square toward her. In their arms they carried another little boy, each one holding up one of his limbs, and Eponine gasped when she saw that that boy was bleeding profusely from his head.
"Mon Dieu, Gavroche! What happened?" she cried. She knelt down, allowing the boys to lay their bleeding friend onto her lap.
"Pascal got struck by a carriage," her brother answered frantically. "Wheel knocked him on the head and the bastards didn't even stop. You gotta help him, 'Ponine!"
The little boy sobbed pitifully as Eponine touched his wound as gently as she could. Thankfully, it didn't look too deep. She grabbed a fistful of her skirt and pressed it firmly to the spot to staunch the blood flow. The little boy scrunched up his face and shrieked in pain.
"Shhhhh, you're alright. You're alright, Pascal," Eponine whispered, rubbing his cheek comfortingly. She looked up. "'Vroche, we need to clean this wound. Can you get me some liquor?"
Gavroche spun about in a circle, looking. In the nearby alleyway, he spotted an old bum leaning against the wall with a bottle in his hand. He ran over to him, yelling and waving his arms, but the bum just cursed and snarled back at him. They argued for several seconds until Gavroche lifted up his fist and whacked the old bum on the head. The man sagged down like a rag doll and Gavroche grabbed the bottle out of his hand, taking it back to Eponine.
The gamine grabbed the bottle and sniffed its contents. Brandy. Yes, that will do. She removed her skirt from the boy's head and carefully began pouring the liquid over the wound.
"Gavroche, quick! Hold him down," Eponine cried as the boy began to scream and thrash. All four boys came around and took ahold of their friend's arms and legs as she continued to douse the wound with the brandy. "Hush now, Pascal," she whispered. "It's going to be alright. It's time to be brave now."
"Mademoiselle, please don't let Pascal die," one of the other boys whimpered.
"He's not going to die. He just needs a little fixin', that's all."
As Eponine reapplied pressure to the little boy's forehead, Gavroche turned to look back towards the square. His eyes lit up. "Hey, look! It's Joly. Hey, M'sieur Joly! Get over here!"
Eponine's heart came to a juddering halt.
"Gavroche?" Eponine gasped, her whole body turning to ice. That voice. She heard footsteps approaching, and then that voice again. "Gavroche, what's wrong? What are you …" The footsteps came to a halt. She felt a shadow fall over her. Then a soft intake of breath. "E-Eponine? Is that you?"
The gamine couldn't breathe. Everything inside her screamed to get up and run, but the poor boy bleeding in her lap kept her pinned to the ground. Several agonizing moments passed before she slowly lifted her gaze.
And there it was. That warm, smiling face she'd been avoiding since the night he saved her from the prison.
Two green eyes lit up at the sight of her. "Hey," the boy breathed, and Eponine's throat grew painfully thick. Why'd he have to look so utterly delighted to see her?
She averted her eyes and muttered, "Pascal here is hurt, M'sieur. On his head. I think it needs stitchin.'"
"Does it? Let me take a look." Eponine cringed as Joly knelt down beside her, disconcerted by the close proximity of their bodies. A warm hand came atop the boy's head and brushed with her fingers before she could pull them back, sending violent jolts all the way up her arm. She turned away, refusing to look at him.
"Oh, I see!" she heard Joly say in that light tone he'd used with baby Emile. "Quite an impressive bump you've got there, Pascal. You must have seen some fierce battle to get a mark like that."
The boy stopped his pained weeping for a moment and laughed. "Nah. I got hit by a cart, M'sieur."
"Oh, a cart! A fearsome foe indeed. I'll bet that poor cart's sorry it ever took you on. It probably went crying home to its mother after that sound skull-bashing you gave to it, Pascal."
Pascal and all the boys around him burst out laughing, and even Eponine couldn't help but crack a smile.
"That's right, Pascal!" Gavroche proclaimed. "Smasher of the carts! That's what you are."
"Yes," Joly said, examining the wound further. "But Mademoiselle Eponine is right. We're going to have to get that wound of yours stitched back up."
The gamine shuffled back as Joly reached beneath Pascal's little body and lifted him off of her lap. She shot to her feet, wiping off the front of her skirt and keeping her eyes fixed on the ground.
"Well, I s'pose you'll be takin' it from here then, M'sieur," she said. "If you'll excuse me …"
"W-wait, 'Ponine!" Joly interjected before she could take another step. "You can't leave now. I'm going to need your help fixing up Pascal."
"What?" Eponine looked up and glared at him increduously. "You don't need my help for that."
Joly smiled brightly. "Sure I do! I mean, look. You've already done a fine job cleaning up the wound for me. Might as well have you see the whole job through to the end."
Eponine shook her head and turned to go. "I don't think so, M'sieur."
"'Ponine, wait."
Eponine froze as a hand came out and gently grabbed ahold of her arm. Stiffening, she turned to face her captor.
"'Ponine, I could surely use your help," Joly said, his gaze intent.
"You don't need my help, M'sieur."
"Yes, I do," Joly replied. He tugged her closer. "And I've really been meaning to talk to you ..."
"M'sieur, please. I really must go."
"Why have you been avoiding me?"
"I haven't!"
"Haven't you?"
Eponine turned her face away, unable to take the flash of hurt in his eyes. "I've been busy."
"Doing what?"
Eponine clenched her fist angrily. "You know what, M'sieur! Doin' what thieves like me do every day. Filchin' and pilferin' from honest people just so we don't starve to death. Now for God's sakes, let me go!"
Stunned silence fell over the group. Out of the corner of her eye Eponine saw Gavroche bow his head sadly and she swallowed back the lump of shame that rose in her throat.
"No, sorry, but I can't let you go," Joly said at last.
Eponine's mouth fell open and she let out an exasperated, half-choked sound. Joly released her arm and held up his hand.
"Wait, just hear me out, okay?" he said. "I really could use your help. Stitching up this wound would go a whole lot easier if I had someone to help me keep Pascal calm and distracted. And also … well … did you happen to read my letter?"
The lie Eponine wanted to say halted on the tip of her tongue. She swallowed and shook her head. "No, M'sieur."
Joly let out a heavy breath. "Well … that's alright. I'd much rather talk with you about it in person, anyway. You see, I …" He smiled nervously. "I have a proposition for you, Eponine."
Eponine narrowed her eyes. "What … kind of proposition?"
"Something I think will make both our lives a whole lot easier."
The gamine shook her head, not understanding.
"Come with me and I'll tell you all about it. I'll even sweeten the deal and throw in some dinner for you, if you'd like. Hot soup with a plate of bread and cheese. Sounds good, doesn't it? And if you don't like what I have to say, you can just take the food and go. No fuss." He gave her arm another gentle tug. "What do you say?"
"I …" Eponine gazed up at him helplessly. She felt so much like a deer caught in a trap. Why couldn't she just run? She knew she ought to. She'd been avoiding him these whole past two weeks because she couldn't bring herself to face him after what she'd done.
And now that she was facing him … why couldn't she bring herself to run away?
Seconds felt like an hour, passing in silence, until Eponine sighed heavily in defeat.
"Alright, M'sieur," she mumbled at last. "I'll come along if you really need me to."
She heard Joly's immense sigh of relief and looked up in time to see that warm smile spread across his face. And then his eyes locked with hers, and the smile faded.
"I've missed you," he said softly.
Eponine's mouth opened. Closed.
I've missed you too.
A child's high-pitched giggle broke them out of their trance. Remembering they had an audience, they quickly looked away from each other. Joly cleared his throat and turned to face the boys with Pascal held tight in his arms.
"Don't you worry, lads. We'll take Pascal back to my place and get him patched up, and then we'll bring him back to you. It shouldn't take too long. Not with Mademoiselle Eponine helping me." He turned to wink at the gamine. "Shall we?"
Eponine smirked faintly. "Lead the way, M'sieur."
The boys turned in unison, watching them go. They stifled their giggles, exchanging winks and nudging each other with their elbows. Then, just when Joly and Eponine were halfway across the square, Gavroche cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled after them.
"Hey, Joly! If you plan on marryin' her, you gotta ask for my permission first!"
"Oh, shut up, Gavroche!" Eponine snarled, causing all the boys to fall over onto the ground laughing.
XXXXXXXXX
AN: Holy cow, I'm ALIVE!
I am SO SORRY it's taken me so long to update this beloved story of mine! Trust me, I've missed this story and its characters just as much as so many of you have! I feel absolutely terrible for having neglected it for this long. I've gone through so many changes in this past year, and when I finally found myself in a position where I could sit down and write again, it was so difficult to find my muse again after not touching it for so long. But I am happy to say my muse is back in full swing and THIS STORY is definitely where my inspiration is churning right now. I am so excited to continue. Thank you so much to everyone who's stayed with me, PM-ed me and reviewed. You guys make it worth it!
I know, I know, there's not NEARLY enough Joly in this chapter to make up for my long absence. I actually came really close to cutting this chapter even shorter … but that would have meant cutting out Joly's part out entirely (NOOOOOO!) But do not fear, my lovelies! I am steamrolling ahead to much more Joly x Eponine goodness. Just don't be surprised if the next chapter isn't as lengthy as this one. Shorter chapters = faster updates, after all!
So some notes on this chapter. For those who haven't read the book and are confused about the "Ursule" portion – in the original Victor Hugo version of events Marius actually met Cosette BEFORE he met Eponine! Basically in the novel Marius first saw Cosette in the Luxembourg Gardens when she was fresh out of the convent. Over the course of several months he watched her blossom from afar until he finally fell in love with her. The only clue he had to her identity was a handkerchief left on a bench by Valjean with the initials "U.F." Marius assumed it was Cosette's and that her name was Ursule. (Idiot). And then Cosette disappeared and Marius did not see her again until near the start of the Rebellion months later. That sounds way better than "I saw you once and fell in love with you within three seconds" deal that we see in the otherwise flawless musical, right?
And guess what … I recently listened back to the original London cast recording of Les Miserables from 1985 and here's what I discovered - Marius' original lyrics for "A Little Fall of Rain" were "If I could CLOSE your wounds"! Ahhhhh! So Eddie DIDN'T take liberties, he was just hearkening back to the original lyrics! That is amazing! Well, that settles it. The title will stay as is!
Again, thank you so much for all the support! Please drop a review if you can! I'd love to know what you think about this long overdue chapter and stay tuned for more chapters very soon! :D
Love,
Luna