(Hi guys! Thank you all so much for your reviews on the last chapter :) I'm so happy you liked it. I'm sorry this one took a little longer to get up, but I hope it was worth the wait :) enjoy!)
Enjolras shook the hand that Feuilly reached out to him and smiled back. The young man and the owner of the bookstore seemed nice enough and even though Enjolras had been feeling more than a little nervous about meeting new people, somewhere he knew he would be feeling at ease soon enough. Feuilly beckoned for him to come behind the desk and he nodded his thanks to the older man.
"I've got it from here, monsieur Beaumont, I'll show our new worker around and fill him in on what he is supposed to be doing here", Feuilly said in a professional voice as he reached under the counter to grab a large dossier full of papers and files. "I will make sure these orders will be up to date by the end of this week."
Monsieur Beaumont nodded satisfied and patted Enjolras on the back a few times; not noticing the slight flinch or the sudden tenseness of the boy's body as he did so. Feuilly, however, did and he frowned a little before offering Enjolras a reassuring smile "Wonderful, my boy, wonderful. I will leave the two of you to it then. Monsieur Enjolras here will work three days a week from eight till three. You can have your lunch break together at noon, but please stay inside the shop today so you can still help the customers should they come in. I will be in my study; don't hesitate to call if you need me."
Feuilly watched the older man go before turning back to his new colleague. He gave him another bright smile and offered to take his coat and scarf from him. "So, Enjolras was it?", he asked kindly as he hung the younger boy's clothes on the peg in the corner of the room.
Enjolras nodded and looked around the room in amazement. There were so many books; the whole store was packed with them; old ones, new ones. Fairytales, Bibles, Law and History books; books about anatomy, astronomy, philosophy; books about nature and the world; there was a book on almost every subject imaginable - as long as it wasn't offending to the King or Church. He had been impressed with Combeferre's collection and overwhelmed by that of his parents, but never before had he seen anything like this. A small smile played around his lips as he took in the titles of the various copies on the shelf in front of him. Even after spending a month in Combeferre's company, Enjolras still felt blessed to be close to so many books; he was almost never allowed to touch anything other than a Bible in his parental home.
Feuilly watched him with an amused frown. He wasn't sure what to think of the boy yet; the first impression he made was definitely a little confusing. His outer appearance told Feuilly he was dealing with a wealthy boy; he had proper clothes; his hair was washed; he had a healthy blush on his cheeks and a charming smile. He didn't look at all like someone who needed a job; but rather like someone who was supposed to be in school learning and studying; getting ready for University maybe. All in all, from the outside, Enjolras looked as if he had lived an easy enough life. But the way he acted screamed the complete opposite. He was clearly nervous and shy; he was timid with hunched shoulders and an almost permanent downcast look. He seemed to be on edge and his bright blue eyes were skimming the room every now and then as if he was afraid of something. And then there was the obvious flinch earlier when Beaumont patted Enjolras on the back. Yes, the kid was sending him all these conflicting signals and Feuilly couldn't yet seem to get a clear vision of the boy in front of him.
"It's quite something, isn't it? I think Beaumont has one of the largest collections in his store in all of Paris. Well, save for the Library of course..", Feuilly said friendly, hoping to draw Enjolras' attention to him and away from the books for just a second so he could start explaining the work to him.
The blond boy turned back to Feuilly and smiled a little; glancing up at him for a moment and then casting his eyes down once more. "It is indeed", he said politely, "I've never seen so many of them in my life…My roommate already has a lot of them, but his is something else entire…" Enjolras walked over towards the desk where Feuilly was sitting and sat down in the opposite chair. His eyes shifted across the wooden table to take in all the papers, notes and lists. "So…what do I have to do?"
Feuilly smiled again, somehow very touched by this confusing boy in front of him, took some of the orders in hand and began explaining to Enjolras. He was fairly new to the job as well, so it felt kind of weird to guide his new colleague into the job -especially since it concerned tasks he wasn't able to do himself - but he felt honored to do it. "Well", he began friendly, "these are the lists of orders that you will be working with. Beaumont told me you could read and write, so it shouldn't be too hard in that case. You need to check every title we sell; what titles we get back in and if our stock is still up to date. You get all the numbers from me; I'll be doing pretty much all the counting and I'll help the customers in the store."
Enjolras nodded obediently and folded his hands in his lap.
"Also, uhm…I'm going to need your help from time to time, because unlike you, my alphabetical skills aren't that trained yet; I'm working on it and I'm getting there, but I still have difficulty with some things and Beaumont told me you were schooled, so it shouldn't be much of a problem for you",Feuilly bit his lip. It felt a little awkward to ask someone who was clearly younger than himself to help him read or write.
Again, Enjolras just nodded. Feuilly watched how the blond glanced up briefly to look at him, but there was no judgment or condemnation in his eyes. He just looked really nervous and Feuilly suddenly wanted to make sure the boy was going to feel at ease.
"Beaumont is a gentle and very reasonable man; so don't shy away from asking him anything. He's always willing to help, and so am I, should you get stuck with something. We get lunch breaks together and, though Beaumont prefers us to take our break here in the shop, it's more than okay too if we go out to get some air. The only thing he is very strict about are our working hours. Don't come late, he doesn't appreciate that. You are expected to be polite and friendly to all of our customers at all times; be helpful and be respectful to your superiors. You are free to check out and read all of these books, as long as you put them back were you got them and get your work done in time before you go home. Beaumont is also willing to lend you some of the books, but he wants you to ask him personally", he took a pause and eyed Enjolras carefully. He was obviously listening very hard; trying to take in every word Feuilly was telling him. Another small smile played along Feuilly's lips as he continued. "Now, it will often enough be just you and me here in the store, so if you want to know anything about me, or if you feel like talking, just ask away. I am an open spirit", he winked at Enjolras and smiled when he saw him visibly relax more. "Do you have any questions so far?"
Enjolras shook his head and forced himself to smile back at Feuilly. "No, I think…I think I got most of it…", he said quietly, "So, should I start right away? Or are there some other things you need to show me?"
"No, this is pretty much it for now. The store doesn't open until nine, which is still an hour away, so we can do the first few of these lists together, if you'd like?" Feuilly offered kindly and he took his chair and dragged it round the desk to sit next to Enjolras when the younger boy nodded; clearly relieved not having to start on his own right away.
They worked mostly in silence for the first twenty minutes, save from the few instructions or corrections on Feuilly's part. Enjolras seemed determined to do good; to impress; or, maybe, not to disappoint. When Feuilly gave him a compliment on his quick learning, Enjolras looked up with a shy, yet beaming smile and Feuilly felt his heart swell a little at the sight; a feeling he'd never had in his whole life before.
"So Enjolras, tell me something about yourself", Feuilly asked after a while, "Like how old you are; how long you have been in Paris; where did you grow up? You're not from here, I can tell by the accent...you're from the South aren't you?"
Enjolras visibly tensed at hearing all the questions. He knew Feuilly was just curious and wanted to get to know him better. They were colleagues after all...But Enjolras had the weird feeling of being cornered. He didn't like thinking about his past, let alone talk about it and he had wanted to pretend to anybody he met that he was born in Paris. But now Feuilly had completely ruined that cover by recognizing his Southern accent. He didn't even know he had one.
He swallowed nervously and cleared his throat. "I uh...I am fourteen and I grew up near Montpellier...and I...I've been in Paris for little over a month now", he muttered quietly. He hoped Feuilly would leave it at that; would stop his questioning. Enjolras did not like being questioned. But he had no such luck.
"All the way from Montpellier? Well, your father must be on important business then, if he has to travel all across the country for it. What does he do? Is he a merchant?" Feuilly wasn't yet aware of the growing discomfort of his younger colleague and he smiled merrily at Enjolras, who in turn pressed his lips together and looked away.
"No, he is not a merchant", Enjolras said a little bitter, because he didn't like the impressed look Feuilly gave him when they discussed his father. The man didn't deserve Feuilly's respect. "My parents are still there and they do not know that I'm here, nor will they ever have to know."
"Oh". Feuilly fell silent; Enjolras had ran away? Why? How? Feuilly hadn't expected that. And he really wasn't prepared for the pleading look in Enjolras' eyes urging him to drop the subject. "Okay, well, w-what about the man who brought you here, if you don't mind me asking...is he your brother?"
This brought a small smile on Enjolras' face. The thought of Combeferre as his brother really gave him a warm and safe feeling. Maybe they weren't brothers in blood, but to Enjolras - even after only as little as a month - they were brothers in everything else.
"Yes, he is as good as...at least for my part", the young blond said quietly; handing Feuilly his third finished order.
Feuilly smiled kindly and decided to leave it at that. "Well, well, look at that, a third order done. I think you might already be one of Beaumonts fastest workers. I am impressed."
And again, Enjolras couldn't suppress a grin spreading across his face and he ducked his head as soon as he realized he was blushing. Even after a month with more than enough praising from Combeferre, Enjolras still found it hard to accept compliments. It was difficult for him to believe he actually deserved them.
They worked in silence again for another few minutes until Enjolras had found the courage to ask Feuilly a question himself. "What about you?" It was spoken soft, but Enjolras managed to keep a firm and clear voice.
Feuilly raised one eyebrow in amusement. "What about me?", he asked curiously. Of course he knew what Enjolras meant, but he wanted his colleague to be more direct and comfortable around him. They were going to be working together for quite some time and Feuilly had an open mind, so there was really no reason for Enjolras to be this shy around him. And that's why he wanted the younger boy to ask him complete and clear questions.
Enjolras glanced up briefly at Feuilly and swallowed before turning back to his work. "Will you tell me something about yourself? Or do you not want to share, because then that's okay too...", he muttered to the piece of paper in front of him.
Feuilly eyed Enjolras thoughtfully for a few moments. There was something about him; some sort of great attraction and yet Feuilly could not really place where that came from.
"Well, unlike you, I've lived my entire life here in Paris. All of my eighteen years to be exact", he began lightly. His story wasn't one of the happiest and definitely not one of the luckiest, but Feuilly had no trouble talking about it. He was a positive spirit; optimistic and full of life. And when he took a look at those poor people roaming the dirty streets of Paris, he thought himself blessed, for at least he had had a roof over his head most of the time in this miserable, godforsaken and corrupt land that could have been so great.
"I lost both of my parents at a very early age; I do not even remember them. I was not born here in France, I am originally from Poland, but my parents were exiled and they fled to France. When they died, I was placed in the Orphanage, which is just as unpleasant as you have probably heard, but at least I was not dumped in the streets, so you will not hear me complain. I started working when I was eight years old and I have been working ever since. All kinds of jobs really; I've worked at the docks; I've cleaned chimneys; I've helped out in some Café's; then there's the Inn where I work in exchange for a place to sleep; if I have time I make fans and I try to sell them and now I have this job, which is without a doubt the best one I've ever had. Especially because it comes with quite some spare time in which I am allowed to try and learn as much as I can aboutas many things As I can. That's what I love to do, you know. I love to broaden my knowledge; learn more about our history; the history of the world; the people of the world. There has been so much growth already...It gives me hope that one day things will be better for people like me. That one day there will be equality and justice", he trailed off and chuckled to himself, "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm straying away from your question..My life is not an easy life, but I think I have managed well enough."
He looked at Enjolras and smiled at the expression on the boy's face. He was no longer looking at his work, but had his full attention turned to Feuilly.
"How can you speak of this so lightly?", Enjolras asked a little indignant, "about the injustice you have suffered? The unfairness of it all? Do you not want to fight? Do you not want to try and right the wrongs that have been done to you?"
Feuilly smiled at the sudden change of tone in Enjolras' voice. In just a few seconds he had gone from shy and timid to fiery and passionate. "Of course I do if I had the opportunity. Liberty is one of the many things I wish for all the people inhabiting this world; every man should be loved by his fellowman; every man should be loved by his country. But it is not that easy, my young friend, for a mere poor worker such as myself to bring that change. I have tried to join those who want to fight, but they do not allow people like me in their meetings; their organisations. They want workers to join the actual battle, yes, but only students and rich men are allowed to make the actual preparations. Having good ideals is one thing, but actually putting those ideals into action is quite another. And since I cannot be of much use to the current opposition, I try to make myself useful by learning as much as I can and helping people in other ways. And I speak lightly because what else do I have if not for my opportunism, hope and faith? I am alive; I have work; I do not live on the streets. I am blessed."
Enjolras blinked a few times without speaking and let Feuilly's words sink in. Then his face went very serious. "If they do not allow you to join their meetings and preparations, just because you are not a student or because your income does not match theirs, then they are no better than those they oppose."
Feuilly eyed Enjolras thoughtfully again. Yes, this truly was an extraordinary boy and Feuilly liked him. A lot. He smiled and nodded his agreement. "I think so too. But it is nearly nine and we would do better not to discuss matters such as these in public. Although it pleases me greatly to have finally found someone I can discuss it with. Someone who knows what he talks about, or so it seems." He winked at Enjolras and then stood from the desk to open the store.
Enjolras watched Feuilly go with a wry smile and thought about what the young man had told him. He already felt a deeply rooted sense of respect for Feuilly; and he was certainly someone he could learn from a lot. This job might turn out to be good for him in more ways than one.
The following few months, things went relatively well in Enjolras' life. He was really enjoying his job and he especially liked working and talking to Feuilly. His older colleague fascinated him; he knew so much about so many things and Enjolras caught himself asking question after question. And Feuilly answered them as truthfully and completely as he could. In return, Enjolras tried to help Feuilly with his reading and writing as much as the older boy allowed him. Enjolras had even invited Feuilly home to have diner with him and Combeferre a few times, but because Feuilly worked two or sometimes three jobs at the same time, he could rarely accept the invitation.
Apart from his work, Enjolas also felt completely at home with Combeferre; the two of them had grown even closer and Enjolras couldn't imagine a life without him anymore. Just thinking about it, caused him to panic and fret. But he knew that Combeferre would never leave him. He was certain of that by now and that piece of certainty made him feel safer than ever; because it meant that he would never be alone again.
The nightmares still occured, but they were much less frequent now than they had been months ago. Enjolras was starting to deal with his past; was starting to accept his future and he felt better every day. He and Combeferre still talked about some difficult things from Enjolras' childhood; things that Enjolras was now more comfortable talking about, but there was one subject; one secret, that Enjolras still did not want to share with Combeferre. A secret that still scared him; that had him looking back over his shoulder; that had him wake up bathing in sweat in the middle of the night. And as far as Enjolras was concerned, it would stay a secret. Never had he thought that it would come back to destroy his life so sudden and so ruthlessly.
It was on a Friday afternoon in March that the whole world came crashing down on them. Combeferre's classes would always end at three on Friday's, so he and Enjolras had agreed that Combeferre would stop by the shop to pick Enjolras up and they would go home together. They had been doing it that way ever since Enjolras started his job in January.
But when Combeferre entered the shop that afternoon, Enjolras wasn't there and Feuilly practically tripped over his own feet in his hurry to get to him.
"Combeferre! Combeferre, thank God you're here", he blurted out, "Enjolras isn't here, he left about an hour earlier, Beaumont fired him...you have to go home and check if he's there; see if he's okay? Please, I'm really worried, but Beaumont wouldn't allow me to go..."
Combeferre felt his heart sink. "What? Fired him? Why, what did he do wrong? What's going on Feuilly?"
Feuilly shook his head. There was no time to explain; Combeferre needed to go home..."There...t-there was this man in the shop and I think Enjolras knew him; he...he panicked, and..and the guy, he said some stuff, I don't know what, and Enjolras just completely freaked out and started yelling and he tried to hit the man and Beaumont came in at that point and one of his biggest rules is that you are to be polite and respectful to your customers at all times...And so he told Enjolras he had to let him go, and Enj ran out before I could say anything and I just...I'm worried..."
Combeferre had a hard time understanding the words that were just spoken to him. What on earth had happened? He blinked owlishly at Feuilly for a few seconds and then shook his head. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Who was the customer?
"I...okay, thanks Feuilly...I gotta go", he whispered confused and he turned around. He darted across the streets of Paris in some sort of haze; with only one thing on his mind: to get home as fast as he could. His heart hammered in his chest and all kinds of doom scenario's flashed through his mind. Please, please be okay.
Everything was going so well, what could have happened that caused such a reaction in his young friend? He was always polite; always respectful; always willing to help...who is the man?
Combeferre flew up the stairs two steps at a time and called out Enjolras' name even before he entered their apartment. When he finally unlocked the door, he was already out of breath and panting. He stumbled across the living room into their bedroom and came to a complete stop.
There he was. Huddled in the farthest corner of the room; shaking violently. He had his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms crossed over his head and his hair was a complete mess. When he looked up, Combeferre's heart skipped a beat; shocked by the terrified expression on his young friend's face.
Something was very, very wrong.
TBC.
(Whoosh, this one was very hard to write for some reason. I hope Feuilly was somewhat believable and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you think and review? Thanks!)