I AM HORRIBLE TO MAKE YOU WAIT THIS LONG. BUT, ALAS! THIS IS A GOOD ONE. I PROMISE ;D PLEASE REVIEW! THEY MAKE MY DAY. FOR REAL. ALSO, AS A LOOK AT THE NEXT CHAPTER, I CAN HINT WITH THIS: IT'S CUTE. CUTE AS HELL. I'M PUKING RAINBOWS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT. ENJOY! XD (oh, and the new song is "ghosts that we knew" by mumford & sons. yay!
XI.
You saw my pain washed out in the rain But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view
Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins
But you saw no fault, no cracks in my heart
And you knelt beside my hope torn apart
We'll live a long life
One week later, a letter arrived in the mail.
"Eponine, this is addressed to you. It is from Marius."
Enjolras handed over the letter, small and thin and altogether unassuming. Eponine took it from his hand, still holding her morning cup of coffee; her hair in a braid that was pushed over her left shoulder. Her dark eyes flickered up to his, clearly confused.
"It's only addressed to me?"
He nodded and Eponine slowly sat at the table, sipped her coffee, and stared down at it like she was about to interrogate it. Enjolras could obviously understand the confusion. Marius had written letters, early on, to the both of them. They had been general and even slightly awkward. He wanted to know if they needed anything, if the house suited them, and let them know that his grandfather would provide them anything they desperately needed.
Enjolras could imagine what the letter was about. In the other letters, Marius hadn't mentioned what Eponine had done. She had essentially almost died for him; she was in this predicament because of it. And Marius had gone and married Cosette, all the while thinking Eponine was dead.
Of course, Eponine had no claim to him. Marius hadn't returned her feelings, hadn't even known about them until the barricade. But perhaps he should have waited a bit longer, to let Eponine's spirit rest. It was one of those odd situations where it seems like nothing would have been appropriate. Eponine, of course, had lived... so that complicated things. Enjolras imagined that addressing Eponine would have been awkward to say the least for Marius.
Would he thank her? Apologize? Enjolras had no idea. If it were him in the same situation, he would probably have retreated from the situation. His reluctance to talk to Eponine about his feelings had been an indicator of that.
He didn't know what to do, so he stood in the kitchen awkwardly while Eponine slowly opened the envelope.
"Eponine, would you like..."
"Just stay here, please."
He didn't say anything else. He let her read it. He tried to read her facial expressions, but her face remained blank. She scarcely even blinked. Her right hand covered her mouth as she read. When she was done, she folded the letter and put in back in the envelope. She stood, walked over to the fireplace, and threw the letter into the flames.
She stood facing the fire, her arms crossed over her chest and her feet planted firmly on the floor.
"He apologized."
She turned around to face him, and her face was still difficult to read.
"I'm not mad. I just want to forget it. Why did he wait so long? Doesn't he know I've been trying to forget it? I... I'm humiliated, how can he not understand?"
Enjolras took an awkward step towards her, his hands at his sides.
"I am sorry Eponine, I know Marius can be -"
"Can be what!? Daft, oblivious, foolish?! Unaware of the feelings of people around them?!"
"Eponine, what are you talking about?"
She clenched her fists at her sides and glared at him. Enjolras was thoroughly caught of guard. What did he have to do with any of this?
"Honestly, Enjolras, sometimes I wonder if it is you or Marius that is more clueless! You just... you just ignore consequences, the both of you!"
Now he was angry. He had gone through enough this week, and now Eponine was shouting at him.
"Consequences?! Believe me, Eponine, consequences are all I can think of!"
"OH, REALLY?! WELL I CAN THINK OF A FEW CONSEQUENCES YOU HAVEN'T PAID ANY MIND TO!"
She had taken a step towards him, and he took one step back. He was almost afraid of her and the way she was acting. He had never seen Eponine so angry, especially at him. Her gold eyes gleamed with fire.
"You're still a scared little boy, a boy who put on a man's red coat and still lives in that cold empty house by the sea! You run away from anything that requires any emotional effort! You're... damn, Enjolras, you are like a brick wall!"
"GODDAMN IT EPONINE! HOW DARE YOU SAY SUCH THINGS?!"
"BECAUSE THEY ARE TRUE! When is the last time you spoke to me, besides to say you were going into town?!"
Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and they were both short winded. Enjolras could feel the adrenaline running through his veins. He couldn't remember the last time he had yelled like this, and he never thought Eponine would be on the receiving end. But she was being so stubborn, so confusing, and he was immediately defensive.
"I don't have anything to say, Eponine!"
She crossed her arms again, and Enjolras saw a gleam of hurt in front of the anger in her eyes.
"Really? You have nothing to say to me, Enjolras?"
He pursed his lips tightly together and swallowed. He could feel himself starting to sweat. Was she finally confronting him and his silence? His absence? He wasn't sure he could answer any of her questions or explain anything that he had done.
"Eponine, I don't think it would be wise for us to fight."
"I don't want to, Enjolras! We both know you don't like to talk, or to tell me things. For God's sake, you didn't even say anything about the nightmare you had a few weeks ago, and I know for a fact that you remember it. Are you ashamed? You know I have them, too! You can't... you can't keep running away!"
"You want to talk about running away, Eponine?! How about your nightmares!? How often have you woken up and left the house crying, not letting me help you!"
"That is different, and you know why!"
His heart sank. She was talking about the kiss. He didn't say anything in response, just running his hands over his face and through his golden hair.
"You know why!"
He could see it in her eyes that she was asking him, begging him, to say it. To admit that he had kissed her, even if it meant not admitting to how he felt. He knew she was hurting, but what was the alternative? They could never be together. It was absurd. He was too damaged, too far gone, and Eponine could do so much better. She could find someone whole, a man that could properly be there for her. Not someone shut down and stone faced. Enjolras had already banished himself to that darkness, and he was not going to let Eponine follow. He didn't respond to her.
"SAY IT! Why can't you say it? Enjolras!"
"WHY DON'T YOU SAY IT, EPONINE?!"
He stood in front of her, his blue eyes lit up and his chest heaving. He repeated, quieter this time, "Why don't you say it, Eponine?"
She paused, almost hesitated. Finally, she quietly said,
"You kissed me."
It was like the air cooled when she said it. Her body was noticeably less stiff, and her eyes softened when she looked at him.
"You kissed me, and then you ran away. You hurt me, and I was angry with myself for letting someone else get under my skin."
"You're comparing me to Marius? He was a fool, a stupid fool, Eponine - to not notice you."
"He didn't pay me any attention, Enjolras. You... you... how can you..."
She looked like she was struggling, like she had the words in her mouth but couldn't get them out. He could tell that she wanted to say this, perhaps even needed to, and she was furious because she knew.
"How can that be, that... that you hold me every night and scarcely look at me the next day? You kissed me like, like you..."
She was silent, perhaps too silent, nervous, shaking, sad.
"What are you so afraid of? Would being with me be that horrible? I have no idea what to think! You owe me the truth, Enjolras."
"Don't cry, Eponine."
"Does it hurt you, to see me upset?"
"Very much."
"Then fix it. Do not hide, you aren't made of stone. I know it, I've seen it! You owe it to me!"
She looked down at the floor and shuffled her feet.
"You need to tell me, Enjolras, what you are thinking. You owe it to me and I owe it to myself. Can you understand that? All my life, every single person I have known has taken advantage of me. My parents used me as a thief, my Father as a pawn to get what he wanted from the streets, and Marius used me to keep in contact with Cosette."
Her eyes met his.
"And I won't let it happen again. If you can't even manage to give me an explanation... I'm going to return to Paris early. I haven't got anyone, Enjolras, so I've got to look out for myself."
"I haven't got anyone either, Eponine."
She looked sad.
"Yes, you have."
He didn't know what to say. The thought of her leaving... how could he have been so stupid? She was right, he had been ignoring the consequences. He had sulked to himself and not paid any mind as to how much Eponine had been hurt. He had to... he had to say something. He couldn't let her walk away. It would kill him. She did deserve an answer. She deserved so much, so much more that she had been given in her life.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize... I should have. Would you forgive me, Eponine?"
He reached forward and touched the tip of her braid, delicately running her smooth dark hair between his thumb and index finger. Eponine's eyes watched him make this small gesture, her arms still crossed over her chest. She was silent.
"I am sorry for being a fool."
He reached forward and cupped Eponine's face with his hand. His heart skipped a beat when she dipped her head slightly to lean into his touch. He saw her downcast eyes mist over with fresh tears. She had cried enough, this winter.
"I am so sorry. I don't want to hurt you."
She whispered, almost inaudible, "I know."
"You deserve so much more than this life has given you. I want you to know that."
Her eyes were closed now; still leaning into his touch. He could hear the sadness in her voice, unsteady and quiet because she was on the verge of a new wave of tears, he could tell.
"It just hurts."
She wiped a few stray tears away, still with her eyes closed, still with her head bowed and leaning onto Enjolras' hand.
"It just hurts, because I love you so much."
She lifted her head and looked away, like she was afraid of his reaction, like he would step away from her.
Instead, his lips replaced where his hand had been - softly caressing the sweet skin along her jawline. He heard her sharply take a breath, caught off guard.
He brought his hands up to the sides of her waist and she hung on to his sleeve, instinctively reaching out. It seemed as though he had caught her completely off guard - she didn't make any movements, just leaning in the direction of his lips and moving her hands up to his back.
He kissed her again, relishing the softness of her skin under his lips. He moved down to the softness of her neck, ghosting her skin as he went. He heard her sigh and then take a deep breath; could feel her chest rising and falling against his own. He kissed a line up her neck to her cheek once more... to her nose, her eyelids. Her eyelashes tickled his lips. He felt her hot breath on his neck, and it felt good.
He didn't kiss her lips, not yet. He kissed another line down her flushed face, this time kissing her at the junction of her ear and neck. She leaned further into him and let out a soft sort of hum.
Enjolras moved his hands to her back, pulling her slightly closer at the same time. His thumbs moved in slow circles; he felt the heat of her body through her layers of clothes.
He never much noticed how inconvenient clothes were, until now.
She ran one of her hands through the gold curls at the back of his neck, gripping them between her small fingers. She pushed her whole body against him, causing his lips to be pressed harder against her neck. She seemed to reach her senses as he kissed his way back to her cheek.
"Enjolras..?"
He pulled away from her so they were facing each other, still holding her gently against him. He was running on adrenaline and the smell of her hair. She leaned forward, just enough so that their lips softly brushed. He kissed her, softly and with purpose. He wanted her to know that he felt for her, that he knew he was an idiot, and that he was going to make up for it. Her arms were now fully wrapped around his neck, and her lips were just as eager as his.
Shocks of pleasure shot through him wherever they touched- her skin burned like fire. He would gladly burn himself on her skin, be consumed by her fire... turn to ashes in her hands.
He felt her tongue against his lips, opened his mouth to welcome her, almost fell over when she ran her tongue along the inside of his mouth.
Then - Enjolras could have committed murder - there was a loud knock at the door. They both paid it no mind, too lost in their clash of lips and tongues, but whoever it was knocked a second time.
They both knew who it was, of course: Madame Tully come to pick up her dress. They kissed for another moment until Eponine slowly pulled her lips from his, knowing full well that Madame Tully was the sort of woman to knock until she got an answer. She leaned her forehead against his. He opened his eyes at the third knock. A few stray strands of hair were hanging in Eponine's eyes, and her lips were wet. He leaned forward and softly kissed her again, feeling her lips firm against his when she swiftly kissed him back.
God, this woman.
She let him caress her bottom lip with his one more time before swearing under her breath at the fourth knock and turning to answer the door. Enjolras was close behind her, taking one of her hands in his as they walked and stood behind the door when she opened it so the good Madame wouldn't see his tangled hair and the grin on his face.
They seemed to talk forever until Eponine, finally, shut the door and locked it for good measure. She leaned back against the door and looked over at him.
Her outstretched hand was still in his; he brought it to his lips and kissed it with his blue eyes locked onto her brown ones. She smiled at him, the corners of her mouth turned up and her eyes gleaming. He returned it, his lips curling into a smile against the back of her hand.
She softly asked him,
"Making up for lost time?"
Lost time. Those words stung, made his heart ache. He answered her, trying to be light hearted,
"Yes, Eponine. I am prepared to make everything up to you."
He stepped closer to her, their eyes still locked. She whispered when he was close, "Don't leave, please. Don't leave like last time."
He stepped closer to her as she stepped away from the door. She wrapped her arms around his neck again, her fingertips in his hair. He leaned his forehead against hers and breathed her in.
"Of course I am not going to leave. I love you."
The words felt strange but wonderful on his lips.
She kissed him then, soft and firm. One arm was wrapped around her tiny waist as their lips commenced their previous battle. One of her hands was resting on his chest and brushing against his bare skin, making him sweat. He kissed her harder, taking her bottom lip between his own. His other hand was at the side of her face, holding her mouth towards his. She kissed him harder, and in response he pulled her closer against him.
He felt her hands on his back as she attempted to push the dark jacket from his shoulders, which he gladly shook off.
Her small hands began to unbutton the front of Enjolras' shirt as he kissed her harder, very aware of the diminishing layers of fabric between them and the way Eponine arched into his touch. His shirt was flung to the side as he huskily whispered, "Eponine..."
It was hard for him to speak, his voice cracking and his breathing so uneven because of her lips on his skin. She whispered back, still kissing him, "Yes?"
There lips separated for a moment, allowing them both to catch their breaths. Still pressed together, still with her hands in his hair and his hands on her waist, they looked at each other. Eponine's eyes were dark and her lids heavy; he had never seen her so radiant. He leaned in closer to her, their mouths still slightly open, and said,
"Eponine, I don't want you to think that I'm just..."
"I know you're not. I trust you. You're a good man, Enjolras, even if you don't think so."
He leaned his forehead against hers and took a deep breath; she rested her hand on his cheek while the other remained amongst his hair. He whispered,
"I don't want you to go to Paris."
She smiled sheepishly at him.
"I know that, now. I wasn't so sure before. I'm sorry if that scared you. I just... I needed to know."
"I understand... I am so sorry Eponine."
He brought his hands up to her face and rested them against her cheeks. His thumbs traced circles on her skin.
"I meant what I said before. You deserve so much, Eponine, and life hasn't treated you fairly."
She smiled up at him again, but only a small one. She was reluctant to accept such flattery.
"You have been so good to me, Eponine. You saved my life."
She leaned close to him when she spoke, softly.
"You don't give yourself credit, you know. I needed you, as much as you needed me. And I had no idea until you stopped just how much. But I've felt this way for a long time."
She kissed his lips again, softly, and Enjolras eagerly returned it. It had been far too long, them talking. He missed her lips.
He pressed his lips to hers again, feeling her kiss him back and breathed in the scent of her hair. Her small body curved into his like it was planned, and their lips clashed and caressed slower this time. It felt so good, to hear those things and to tell her what he did.
His lips left hers for a moment, kissing once again down her jaw line and neck to her collar bone. The hand resting on her face came down to gently push aside the sleeve of her dress, leaving the crook of her neck exposed to his lips. He felt her knees buckle against him when he kissed her there, wanting to make more soft noises emit from her wonderful mouth.
Enjolras broke out in a cold sweat. He wanted to keep kissing her forever, wanted to feel more of her skin. She pulled her lips from his and planted wet, burning kisses down his neck. He groaned at the sensation and felt Eponine's lips smile against his skin. She murmured, "Control yourself, bourgeois boy," with an air of humor.
He laughed.
Her lips gingerly trailed his skin down to his chest, caressing his skin slowly and in such a way that it made his knees go weak. Her hands left his hair and trailed down his chest to his abdomen... Goddamn it, was she trying to kill him? Her name escaped his lips again,
"Eponine... merde..."
Just as her hands where descending dangerously low, she lifted them back up and kissed his lips once again. The fabric of her dress was bunched in his hands. She moaned softly when he carefully tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. He felt her push against his chest, and was immediately terrified that he had done something wrong. He searched her eyes, worried, and of course she knew he would be. She whispered, "give me your hand." He obeyed, of course. She guided his hand to the back of her dress, stopping when he felt a clasp.
"Eponine..."
She kissed him, her hands running through his hair,
"Enjolras..."
It was almost like a plea. He undid the clasp on her dress and shakily undid the buttons as well; his hands felt clumsy against the smooth material of her dress. They pulled it from her together, letting it fall to the floor, leaving her in only the thin material of her white chemise that ended halfway to her knees.
Enjolras began to kiss a line down her neck and onto her chest, his hands now reaching down below Eponine's waist and running over her thighs. He was so in love with her, so captivated by the way she moved and the way she felt. He noticed Eponine reach up to the buttons on her chest, hurriedly trying to be rid of her under-dress as well. His fingers met hers as they both pushed aside one of the thin straps, Eponine whimpering into his mouth as his hand brushed against her breast. He kissed the crook of her neck again, tightly holding her against kissed her neck again, gradually gathering the courage to run his hands over her breasts.
"mmmhhhmm?"
She breathlessly responded, " I said... that... you're fantastic at this."
He lifted his face to hers, his lips brushing against her cheek, and couldn't help but smile. Him, good, at this? He didn't vocalize to her that he literally had no idea what he was doing, so he settled for softly chucking against her dark skin. She brought her hands away from his hair to either sides of this face, resting her forehead against his and softly caressing his lips with her own. He heard her this time, a sly smile on her face,
"Show me, Enjolras, what else you are good at."
She suggestively pushed her hips against his again, causing a noise to escape his mouth that sounded like he couldn't breathe. His mouth hung open and he was sure he looked like an idiot. Merde, Eponine, he thought, you are pulling me apart. She giggled against his skin, her lips brushed against his cheek.
"Do not look so surprised."
He felt her hands slowly wander down his chest and begin to unbutton the clasp on the front of his trousers. He groaned as she touched him, breathing her name into their heated kiss and responding to her touch.
He was under her spell, Enjolras was, and he was fine with that. This woman, what she did to him... it wasn't human. He swiftly picked her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist, and stepped away from the door so that he was completely supporting her. Her delicate fingertips dug into his shoulders and he heard her gasp. It was his turn to chuckle against her delicious skin.
"Do not look so surprised."
Her hands on the bare skin of his chest and her lips on his proved too much; he turned and rested her gently on the counter top so he wouldn't fall and take her with him. Eponine used the wall as leverage, pushing harder against him and wrapping her legs tighter around his waist. It was clear to him now that this was indeed happening, that Eponine was to be his. He kissed her until he couldn't breathe and slowly pulled away from her lips, trying to get air into his lungs as quickly as he could. He caught her eyes, beautiful, happy, and leaned against her forehead. She was breathing heavily, too, her lips slightly parted against his own.
Eponine.
His eyes moved over her, starting at the smooth skin of her face and moving to her jaw... her neck, where Enjolras could already see the dark marks from his lips. Her collar bone, the curve of her breasts, her thin arms, her warm legs wrapped around him. They had barley spoken yesterday.
That man was right, life is a whim.
His left hand, previously on her back, gingerly moved around her to her knee. He had never seen the bare legs of a woman, but he was convinced that her's were perfection. The tips of his fingers ghosted the dark flesh of her leg, his thumb caressing the soft skin of her thigh that was visible right before the hem of her chemise. He stared, at the pale skin of his calloused finger tips against Eponine's coffee colored skin, so smooth. He was going to make love to this woman, and it seemed foolish that he was only realizing it now. He breathed her name, whispering it to no one in particular, as his fingertips brushed her skin.
"Eponine..."
Her small hand reached down and held his, lacing their fingers and resting against her leg. She didn't seem nervous, or afraid. He managed to look back up at her, and without saying anything he knew that she was alright. He heard her words, he understood them... but there was still a voice in his heart that said he wasn't good enough for her.
He sighed.
"Eponine."
"Enjolras."
She smiled at him, ran her other hand through his hair and brushed a golden curl from his face in a tender gesture. All she said was,
"I know."
He kissed her lips; held her face close to his.
"Pardonnez mon coeur timide. Je suis desole pour les choses que J'ai faites. Mais Je ne serai jamais desole pour vous." *
He kissed her, soft and gentle. She looked at him when he pulled away.
"I've never felt like this, Eponine."
She smiled sweetly, and Enjolras could tell that she understood what he meant. He had never loved someone like this, they both knew that. But he had also never wanted someone like this.
He would roll his eyes at his friends in the cafe, talking about women and all manners of physical things. His mind had always been in one direction, always muddled with politics and strategy. But Eponine had consumed him completely. It was like she made him human. Enjolras was terrified at that prospect, of being human. He had adapted to his friends referring to him as a statue. It was easier, wasn't it? To only focus on revolution, to approach it from a calculated angle. It got rid of anything harmful, anything that could be a distraction. But Eponine had cracked the marble, and he was thankful. He had blood in his veins again.
**forgive my timid heart. I am sorry for the things I did. But I will never be sorry for you.