Eponine walked ahead of Marius by a few steps, speeding down the criss-crossing Parisian streets as though a map of them were printed on the back of her hand. Marius trotted eagerly after her, like a dog or a cat or something, with a giant grin on his face. She felt like stopping right there, spinning on him and screaming every thought she'd ever had about him, but with the way he was swooning, she knew it would do her little good. More likely, she'd just never see him again.

Damn him, she thought bitterly, trying to disguise the hurt in her own heart under a mask of irritation, but it wasn't working well. She still felt as though he'd stabbed her or shot her right in the gut. The pain was physical, tearing at her bones and her flesh. Her blood felt trapped inside her body, as though it wanted to flow onto the pavement through all the holes that had been torn into her. Marius seemed so happy, while Eponine walked a few meters in front of him, loving him with every breath he took.

"'Ponine, you really are the best friend I've ever had," Marius said, pulling close to her side. She gave a weak smile, but did not reply. She turned a corner in the fading light and took him down a dark alley. She watched as his hand went to his belt – no doubt he kept a knife – but she moved along unfazed. She'd been there a thousand times before, and mostly things went fine if you looked like you were minding your own business. Marius, however, looked like a fool, glancing around in his bourgeoisie clothes, grappling at a knife. Yet another example of how those schoolboys knew nothing of the streets. She sighed and kept walking. He followed and they emerged from the alley unscathed. Marius relaxed as soon as the streets became more open again.

"Must you always take such dangerous routes?" Marius asked her.

She shrugged. "They're only dangerous if you don't know where you are."

He looked at her. "Even you can't sneak through all the time. You should be more careful."

Again she didn't respond. She knew what he was referring to – the time that Enjolras had rescued her from a potential rape situation in a dank alley. She didn't want to think about that day. What the hell do you care anyway? She thought, and part of her wanted to say it, but she kept it to herself.

Marius followed her for another quarter of an hour in silence. When she turned onto a street labeled with a sign "Rue Plumet" his face lit up and he practically floated after her.

Number fifty-five stood just in front of them. She pointed.

Much to her surprise, he hugged her. "'Ponine, how can I ever repay you? You are the friend that brought light into my world!" She smiled, but inside, she broke further. He released her after a moment and walked toward the house, leaving her standing there, all alone.

Alone, just like she'd always been.

She watched him go, tears pooling in her eyes. The falling darkness disguised her well, and Marius himself seemed to forget that she was there once he was pressed up against the garden fence, whispering.

"Mademoiselle, are you there?" he murmured quietly. Leaves and plants rustled, and her face came into view behind the wrought-iron bars. Her face glowed in the evening light, porcelain white, surrounded by a shroud of white-blonde hair. He smiled as though the entire world had come into view for the first time.

"Dear mademoiselle, forgive me for intruding. I couldn't help myself. I have thought of nothing but you since I saw you earlier today. I – I –" he paused, fumbling. "Oh, mademoiselle, forgive me, I don't even know your name. I am making such a fool out of myself, aren't I? Oh, for shame!"

Cosette shook her head. "No, monsieur, do not fret. I remember you well. I never expected that we'd meet again. This is a gift from God."

With Cosette's words, Eponine's final hope was shattered. She'd prayed that perhaps Cosette would scoff, send him away, become frightened at his brazenness, something – anything. But of course, she didn't. Eponine swallowed hard and mentally prepared for the next words that would pull Marius even further away from her.

"My name is Marius Pontmercy," Marius said, offering her his hand.

She took it and replied, "And I'm Cosette." A smile came across her face.

"Oh, Cosette, I can't think of any words. I am lost," he stammered.

"And I am found," she reached through the bars and let her fingers linger on his face for a moment. Eponine watched, wishing she could spring forward and slap Cosette's hand away.

"Mademoiselle, you are so lovely. Please, I have nothing but love to offer you, but I can offer you that. I offer you all of my heart, mademoiselle. Do you accept?" Marius looked at Cosette with an unbelievable longing in his eyes.

Cosette paused for a second, thinking. "Yes," she finally said, "I accept."

Eponine no longer listened. She couldn't take it anymore. She let herself fall to the ground, frozen in time. There was nothing left for her. The walls were closing in around her, and she couldn't remember where she was or why – or even how to breathe.

Marius and Cosette talked for some time more. The ring of Marius' voice caught Eponine off guard. Even if she couldn't hear what he was saying, the timbre of his words struck her, and she was left with a longing for his voice in her own ear. All the beautiful things he was saying to Cosette, he would never say to her. Never in a thousand lifetimes would he love her at all. The tears flowed now, as hard as she had been trying to fight them back. She was nothing to her Marius, nor would she ever mean anything to anyone. Her life had been one giant mistake after mistake. Day followed day of pain and sorrow and loneliness, no matter what escape she tried to find.

She thought back to the only escape she ever did manage to find – Enjolras. He had picked her up off the ground and held her until she didn't feel quite so worthless. She wished she could have one last moment with him, just so she could feel that little flitting sensation in her gut – was that what happiness felt like? He, too, would never want her again either. She'd only done what she had for his sake, but that afternoon when she saw him, his clear blue eyes were icy and so different from how she remembered them. There was nothing but contempt for her in his heart now, she knew.

And Marius clung to Cosette's hand through the iron garden fence.

Was there really no end in sight?