Written from my iPod, excuse mistakes. As always, enjoy! - thegirlholdingthewords
Enjolras had awoken to an empty bed, but the warmth and the dent in the pillow told him that Eponine had probably just left. He smiled and stretched, before remembering last night. She hadn't meant the 'I Love You,' but part of him wished that he did. What was wrong with him? He followed the scent of her perfume - jasmine, he thought, mixed in with the slight aroma of roses - down the hallways, to where the front door was slightly ajar. He worriedly grasped the door handle. She hadn't left, hadshe?
No, she was still there, but when she saw him, she forced a smile, and grabbed something, pushing it behind her back. It was pretty obvious she didn't want anybody to know about it, but too late, Enjolras had seen the signature red writing of Eponine's father - the red ink, he thought disgustedly, of blood."Eponine, what is it?" He fought to keep his voice calm, when, in fact, he felt like screaming.
'N-nothing," Eponine answered distantly, staring at her bare feet, red from the cold. A little overhang arched above them, protecting them from the rain that had quickly turned into snow. It wasn't beautiful snow either, not soft, snowy, or white. It was dirty, black, andslushy.
"Come on, Eponine, give me the note from your father you're hiding behind you back," Enjolras demanded. Why was she being so damned stubborn?
"No, stop it, this is my own affair, and I will deal with it by myself!" Eponine argued, her eyes aflame.
Enjolras tried to bite his tongue to stop the harsh words from spilling from his tongue, but they left his mouth anyway. "Well, who is always there to get you out of your little 'scrapes'? Me, so I'd say it's my business too, damn it Eponine!"
Eponine's coffee-brown eyes filled with tears, and Enjolras was suddenly filled with self-revulsion as she shrank away from him, much like she had done with her father. "Well," she replied quietly, after a moment of silence. "If you feel that way, I'll just leave. I thought you were different."
As Enjolras watched Eponine tear down the streets, sobbing, he felt his heart throb painfully. He sighed. What had he done? He had just wanted to protect her, but instead he had hurt her. His heart smugly told his mind: I told you so. I told you that you were deeply, and irrevocably in love with her. It had never hurt so much to be right. He shook his head. Now was not the time. He needed to find Eponine and apologize. Plus, he thought, ashamedly, she was still sick, and being out in the cold could not be good for her health. He grabbed his coat from the hanger at the doorway, and after a second thought, reached for Eponine's coat as well. It was as it should be. They should be together. He ran to the side stables to get his horse, Élysées. There was not a soul on Earth who could outrun her, Enjolras thought, with a flicker of pride, as he urged the large black horse forward.
Eponine was running blindly, and found herself, once again, on the bridge over the Seine. Nobody would care, would they? And that was the bitter truth, Eponine thought ruefully. Gavroche and the Amis would grieve for awhile, but their lives would go on. There was no one who would be irreversibly damaged by her death. Why don't you jump? Her brain asked her. "Yes, why don't I?" she murmured aloud. Before she could regret it, she climbed up on the railing, to take a final glance at the world who had taken so much from her and given so little in return. "Farewell," she whispered and fell back, a song on her lips.
She could hardly feel the icy water as she plunged in, only the sound of her own heart beating, and the current, dragging her down to a watery grave. Suddenly she felt a strong arm encircle her waist and drag her up. She screamed in frustration. She wanted to die. Couldn't God even grant her that? She surfaced, spluttering, and crying, "Let me die already!" She looked into Enjolras's deep blue eyes, and for an instant, forgot about the hurt she harbored against him. Then, he kissed her, deeply, romantically, and passionately.
Was this how a man was supposed to kiss a woman? She wondered woozily. Softly, then hard, and repeatedly? They stood, knee deep in water, Enjolras's wet curls unruly and glinting in the light of the rising sun. "I love you," Enjolras breathed, finally pulling away. Eponine felt strangely disappointed at the loss of contact. "You only like me as a friend, and I understand but-"
Eponine put a slim, trembling finger to his rosy lips. "I love you too, my rebel." She placed her arms around his neck, and pressed her cheek against his chest, where his shirt had stuck to the skin. "Hear the beating of my heart? Every beat signifies me loving you, a hundred times over. I love you so much, Enjolras. My rebel."
There it is! The long awaited kiss! I hope you liked it, and please, oh please, give me some feedback. Thank you for your time! - thegirlholdingthewords