A/N: So it's been more than a month... I kind of suck don't I? I'm really sorry about the wait, hopefully the next chapter won't take me so long. This chapter is not quite as long as the last one, but still one of my longer chapters overall. As always thank you for the reviews, favorites, follows, and just for reading the story in general. Enjoy!
Chapter 28
Éponine watched as Enjolras' eyes fluttered closed, his head bobbing over his textbook for a few seconds then suddenly snapping up again, his blue eyes bleary and confused, before his eyelids started fluttering once more. This endless cycle had been going on for half an hour, but exhaustion seemed to finally be winning over. She was relieved when at last his head fell onto the back of the couch, mouth wide open and breathing heavily. Courfeyrac and Grantaire were snickering softly at the spectacle but Éponine quieted them quickly with a look, knowing how much he needed the sleep.
Over the last few days their relationship had been slowly returning somewhat to normal, but there was still tension between them that they couldn't seem to shake. Awkward silences that hung in the air, physical contact almost initiated and then retracted at the last moment. It wasn't that they weren't trying. Enjolras for his part seemed to be determined to be the perfect boyfriend, and Éponine had to admit that he was doing a very good job. He spent every available moment with her. He never shied away from an opportunity to talk about her feelings, or his feelings, or just discuss anything at all with her really. She was still finding it hard to open up to him, but he was exceedingly patient with her, letting her work through things on her own terms.
The only problem was that he really didn't have time to be the perfect boyfriend. Now that he was back in class he had a pile of work to catch up on in addition to an already stressful week filled with exams and papers. If this were a few weeks ago he would have been barricading himself in his study, only emerging for necessities like food and water. Instead he was accompanying her to the Musain, eating dinner with her, having long conversations with her into the night. He would go to bed with her at a normal hour but then wake up only a few hours later, in what could still be considered the same night, to feverishly complete the work that he hadn't been able to finish during her shifts or in between classes. He didn't exactly hide this routine from her; in fact he had been trying very hard not to hide anything from her recently. But he also acted like it was not a big deal when she found him every morning passed out on the kitchen table.
Éponine wasn't fooled by his act, and she knew trying to do everything at once was definitely taking a toll on him. This was especially worrisome since he had never had the chance to get back to one hundred percent after the riot fiasco. With his still healing injuries he needed more sleep than usual, and instead he was getting less than ever.
She was dying to tell him that they could put this on hold until things got back to normal. That he could just focus on his work and getting better, and when he was done with that they could work on them. But she knew the only things keeping him going were coffee and the certainty that they were getting their relationship back on track. So she didn't force him to sleep, but she certainly wasn't going to wake him up now that he was finally getting some rest. Even if that position was going to kill his neck.
She sighed as she listened to his heavy breathing. She was trying desperately to let him in, but she was having a hard time. She still found herself shutting herself off occasionally, as if she was switching to autopilot. She constantly had to bring herself back, to force herself to look him in the eyes and tell him how she was feeling. It was at these times that she had to remind herself that he was still the same Enjolras she had always known, the same one who had been with her every step of the way for the last few months.
She knew all he really wanted to hear her say was that she forgave him, but she wasn't ready yet. It wasn't that she didn't forgive him, in fact most of the time she felt like she already had. But there were still moments where the betrayal she had felt at the hospital came rushing back to her and it was like it was happening all over again. She didn't want to tell him everything was okay until she was absolutely sure that it was, until she was absolutely sure that she could trust him.
She missed their familiarity, the laughter and the comfort and how easy everything seemed when they were together. She knew that she was the one standing in the way of their relationship at the moment. She felt like she was looking at their old life through a veil, and all she had to do to reach it was to push it to the side. And she kept reaching; sometimes her fingers an inch away, but she just couldn't make contact. It was so close that it was almost painful.
But maybe it was time to close that extra distance. Maybe she couldn't forgive him just yet, but maybe that old familiarity, that laughter and the comfort weren't that far out of reach.
An idea came to her as she watched Feuilly work on a flyer with his rainbow of sharpies. It was stupid and childish so she immediately dismissed it, but it kept nagging on the back of her mind. She tried to convince herself that it was a bad idea, that it would only make him mad. But at the same time, it also might make him laugh a little, and she would certainly find it funny. A few weeks ago she wouldn't have even hesitated, and it was with this thought she decided that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. Maybe it was time for them to stop tiptoeing around each other.
She smiled as she made her way over to Feuilly, suddenly feeling more like herself than she had in weeks.
Enjolras came back to consciousness slowly. At first he tried to block out the hushed voices that sounded muffled and far away, preferring to drift back off to sleep. But he couldn't ignore the pain in his neck that was keeping him awake. He shifted slightly and suddenly the voices stopped. He sighed contently, feeling the slightly course fabric of the couch beneath him. He wondered for a moment why he was on a couch, and it was this thought that had him jerking awake.
It took him a moment to get his bearings, and once he did he was annoyed to realize that he had lost study time for something as insignificant as sleep. He looked up and almost startled when he noticed that everyone was staring at him with odd expressions on their faces. Grantaire and Courfeyrac looked like they were barely containing their laughter, and Combeferre seemed like he was trying very hard not to meet Enjolras' eyes.
What struck him most though was Éponine's expression. He could see the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement, her eyes shining with mirth. She looked more composed than most of their friends, but he knew that she was seconds away from bursting into laughter as well. It was an expression he hadn't seen in what felt like a very long time, and he couldn't help the slight smile that came to his face upon seeing it. Even if his friends' weird looks were starting to unnerve him.
He wondered if he had done something embarrassing in his sleep. Maybe he had been snoring, or worse drooling. He self-consciously rubbed his hand over his mouth but it came back dry. His friends seemed to become even more amused by his gesture, with Courfeyrac letting out a snicker. None of them actually said anything though as they continued to stare at him. He felt his bewilderment turn to annoyance.
"Why didn't anyone wake me up?" he grumbled, his voice scratchy.
Many of the Amis exchanged quick glances, as if they knew something he didn't. "You just looked so peaceful, and you were practically dead to the world," Courfeyrac answered, smiling mischievously. His grin made Enjolras very uneasy.
He suddenly had a horrible thought. He couldn't remember what his dream had been about, what if it had been about Éponine? What if it had been... private? He tended to talk in his sleep when he was exhausted. What if he had said something... personal or moaned or something. He could feel his face going bright red. He glanced over at Éponine quickly, she still had that amused grin on her face, and was avoiding his eyes as if she was trying to prevent herself from laughing. He calmed down a bit, realizing if he had said anything in his sleep she would probably be bright red as well.
Now that the embarrassment was fading he started to feel annoyance again. He waited a moment, hoping someone would clue him into what was so funny, but they just kept looking at him. It was as if they were all waiting for something.
"What?" he asked irritably.
"Nothing," Grantaire answered quickly. Everyone turned away from him, suddenly acting like they had never been staring in the first place.
"Whatever," Enjolras muttered to himself. He didn't have time for this, he had fifty pages of reading to complete, two quizzes tomorrow in completely differing subjects, an annotated bibliography to finish for a ten page essay that was only partially done, and a test in three days that he hadn't even thought about studying for yet. He pulled the textbook on his lap back towards him, irritated that he had not only fallen asleep but also let his friends distract him. Although it might have been worth it for the look Éponine had on her face, even if he had no idea what caused it.
He had only gotten through two paragraphs when he realized that something in the periphery of his vision was slightly off. He was almost afraid to look, realizing that it was the reason all of his friends seemed so highly amused. He steeled himself, closing his eyes for a moment in exasperation before looking slightly to his left. He stared in confusion, his brain taking a second to comprehend what exactly was wrong with this picture as the array of colors assaulted his eyes. He realized he was looking at a series of drawings, seemingly completed by various members of the Amis considering their quality ranged from spectacular to stick figures. In another situation Enjolras might have found their contents amusing, but he was having a hard time finding the humor in the situation considering the "artwork" was on his arm. Or more specifically the cast on his wrist. The cast that he was going to be stuck with for at least another five weeks.
He turned to glare at his friends but they had already burst out laughing, Courfeyrac actually falling out of his chair. Combeferre at least had the decency to look slightly guilty, but he was laughing just as hard as the rest of them.
Enjolras was really not in the mood for this. He was exhausted and stressed and just generally did not feel like watching his friends laugh at him for what would probably be a good ten minutes. He sighed, knowing he would never get anything done with all the noise, and he might as well just stew in his anger until they were done.
While he was waiting he examined his cast, figuring he might as well know what was on it if he was going to be stuck with it for more than a month. There were multiple drawings all overlapping each other, and he could only pick out a few clear images. There was a god on top of a cloud throwing a lightning bolt, a Polish flag, a sketch of the Musain, a crown (no doubt just to piss him off), for some reason a unicorn, a crudely drawn picture of a statue (which he supposed was made of marble, how original), what looked to be one of his favorite Rousseau quotes (in Éponine's handwriting), and of course that stupid crab from The Little Mermaid. He imagined the Amis hunched over his arm, giggling to themselves as they anticipated his reaction. He really must have been dead to the world if they had managed to do all of this without waking him up. He turned his cast over, and sure enough it was covered just as thoroughly on the other side.
He just sat there, silently seething for a few moments as the laughter rushed over him. He just really didn't need this right now. He had reading to do and papers to write and ribs that needed to heal and a girlfriend who he needed to forgive him. He just wanted to finish his work and then crawl into bed with Éponine for a couple blissful hours of sleep before starting the cycle all over again. He actually felt there was a high possibility of him throwing a temper tantrum like a three-year old child. He wondered who the ringleader was for this operation. It was probably Courfeyrac, though he definitely couldn't rule out Grantaire. And Feuilly was the artist among them, though based on some of this "artwork" he knew that he had not been singularly responsible. In fact, based on his perusal of his cast it looked like everyone had contributed, even Éponine.
Just as he was having this thought a rough chuckle cut through the din of laughter and brought him out of his musings. He turned his head quickly and sure enough saw Éponine shaking in laughter, her smile shining on her face with her dimples more prominent than ever. God he had missed that laugh. It was rough and unrestrained, like she was holding nothing back. She was so good at hiding most of her emotions, but her laugh was always transparent. When she made that noise it was one of pure, unrefined happiness. She didn't have a fake polite laugh reserved for bad jokes or long-winded stories. When she laughed like that, she always meant it. It had been a while since he had heard it, and even though he was still angry he felt his traitorous lips curving slightly. If whoever had started this had done it with the intention of making her laugh like that, then maybe it wouldn't be too hard to forgive them.
It was at this moment that she turned to look at him and her smile fell slightly and her laughter ceased. His heart seized, and he wondered if the sight of him was what made her stop. Did he really make her that uncomfortable? She bit her lip slightly and he realized that it wasn't that she looked unhappy; it was that she suddenly seemed slightly nervous. And that's when it hit him. She had been the one to orchestrate this.
He couldn't believe it had only just occurred to him. A few months ago she would have been his first suspect. She was the only one who wouldn't worry about incurring his wrath. Even before they had gotten together she had enjoyed pushing his buttons, trying to get him to "lighten up" as she would say. The Éponine he had known recently, the distant withdrawn Éponine he had created with his actions, would never have done this. But the girl he had first met in the café, she would have done it in a heartbeat. Maybe she wasn't that far gone after all.
She was giving him a questioning look, as if she was unsure of herself, but the ghost of a smile was still apparent on her face. He knew she was asking if this was okay, if they could go back to being like this. He smiled widely and she returned it quickly, glancing down somewhat shyly as her dimples made a second appearance.
It seemed like such a small thing, this prank, but he saw it for what it was, her attempt to fix things between them. He had been the one doing most of the heavy lifting in the mending of their relationship, and rightfully so considering he was the one that broke it in the first place. This was her way of picking up some of the slack. Maybe he really hadn't messed things up beyond repair. He couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped his lips. At the moment he didn't even care that he was going to have to wear long sleeves for a good portion of the foreseeable future.
He realized then that the laughter had stopped. When he turned the Amis were staring at him as if he had just declared his desire for France to return to a monarchy.
"Did you just laugh?" Grantaire asked incredulously, his eyes wide. "Do you actually see the humor in the situation for once?"
Enjolras scowled at him, forcing a glare onto his face. In truth he wasn't even all that mad anymore, but that didn't mean his friends were getting off scot-free for this.
"Hey, why are you mad at us? Éponine started it!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, already looking a little nervous under Enjolras' gaze. Combeferre smacked him lightly in the back of the head, obviously not wanting to give Éponine and Enjolras any more reasons to fight.
"Enjolras, you got a white cast and then refused to let any of us sign it. You practically forced us to do this," Grantaire said with a roll of his eyes.
Enjolras felt his anger picking up a little at this comment. "Is that so?" he said coolly. He smiled icily, enjoying the way Grantaire's face paled a little at his expression.
"In that case I should probably thank you for this magnificent piece of art. It will be an honor to wear it for five weeks," he said with false enthusiam. "Although I am having a little trouble understanding what all of these drawings mean. For instance this one here, is that supposed to be a child? And it looks like they are dancing if I had to guess. But why would someone draw that on my cast? Why would that be relevant to anything?" Enjolras pretended to think about it as Grantaire turned almost as white as Enjolras' cast had been an hour ago. His eyes were wide and he shook his head almost imperceptibly as Enjolras stared him down.
"Actually, that was very inconsiderate of us," Grantaire said quickly, his voice shaking a little. "We shouldn't have gone against your wishes like that and invaded your personal space. I think I can speak for everyone here when I say we are truly and deeply sorry." He bowed his head slightly in shame for the additional effect.
Now everyone was looking at Grantaire as if he had just announced that he planned to stop drinking.
"I'm not sorry," Bahorel interjected. "I thought it was fucking hilarious." The rest of the Amis nodded in agreement.
Enjolras narrowed his eyes. He had been considering letting this matter go, but now he was thinking that a little revenge might be in order.
"Well I'm glad all of you had fun," he said indignantly. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to get back to work." He looked down at his textbook again as if the matter was over.
There was silence for a few moments. "That's it? You aren't going to try to get back at us or anything?" Joly asked a little timidly.
Enjolras sighed, looking up in exasperation. "It may surprise all of you, but I have better things to do than get into a childish prank war with my friends, such as come up with a plan for the next issue that requires our attention."
They all looked at him expectantly. Éponine looked a little suspicious at his tone of voice. Finally Combeferre asked the question on everyone's mind. "And that would be?"
He lifted his head and looked at his friends seriously, pausing for a few moments for dramatic effect. "Rising taxes."
The Amis all looked horrified. Courfeyrac blanched. "You wouldn't," he said in a strangled whisper.
"I think it would be a good idea to look through all of the city's finances, to make sure that the money is all going to the right places," he said in one of his best 'important speech' voices. "And of course research tax law again, just so we are all more informed on the issue. It might take a little while, we may have to work on this for a few months, but I think it will be worth it in the end."
They all stared at him in varying states of shock, except for Combeferre who was nodding along with his friend in agreement.
"Now Feuilly, I know you weren't part of our group the last time we took on this issue, but it was a very memorable and rewarding experience for everyone. It was really a shame that we had to stop before we could finish, but it had been a month and we had barely made a dent. And there were so many other issues that required our attention. But I think the time is finally right to revisit the cause and really do it justice this time. I know Courfeyrac will be ecstatic to get back to looking through all those piles of tax returns."
He turned to look at Courfeyrac, whose eyes were suddenly unfocused. He had a tortured look on his face, as if he was reliving some painful memory. "I forgot what happiness was," he said in a haunted whisper.
"That's nice," Enjolras responded off-handedly. "Well I really should be getting back, it's getting late and I have to get some books from the library tomorrow about the history of tax law. It's a good thing we discovered where that section was in the library last time we were there isn't it Éponine?" he said with a sly smile as he began to gather up his things. Éponine barely suppressed a giggle at the memory.
"Care to join me?" he asked her, offering her a hand up.
She smiled as she took his hand. He was pleased that she didn't let go of it once she was standing.
"Goodnight everyone!" he said as they made their way to the door. "Don't stay up too late, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
He smirked as he heard Joly whisper, "He's just kidding right?" and Bossuet answer, "I think so?" in an unsure voice.
"That was impressive," Éponine said in an incredulous voice once they were outside. "Courfeyrac looked like he was going to cry."
"I learned from the best," Enjolras replied with a smile.
"I don't know if I should be proud or scared of the monster I have created," she said with a smirk, her eyes twinkling.
Enjolras pretended to think for a moment. "Probably a little bit of both."
They walked for a few moments of silence as Enjolras savored how normal this felt. Walking home hand in hand as they teased each other. A sudden urge came over him, something he had wanted to do for a few days now, and he stopped in his tracks. Éponine was pulled to a stop too, and she turned to look at him in confusion.
"What is it?" she asked, her brow furrowed in concern.
He struggled to find the right words, suddenly feeling strangely nervous.
"Nothing," he stammered. "I was just wondering if you wanted to do something this weekend. Like maybe have dinner or go see a movie?" He winced slightly at how stupid he sounded.
A smile lit up Éponine's face. "Are you asking me out on a date?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I guess," he said quietly, his cheeks burning as he looked down in embarrassment. "It has recently occurred to me that although we've been 'dating' for months we haven't really been on an actual date yet." He looked at her expectantly, running his hand through his hair nervously.
Éponine pretended to mull over his words for a few moments. "Okay," she said with a smile after what felt like an eternity. "But I have a two conditions."
Enjolras exhaled in relief. "And they are?"
"Number one, you need to get more sleep. And that means you have to do whatever it takes in order to finish your work, even if that means shutting yourself in your study and relinquishing contact with the human world for a few days." Enjolras opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "I know you have been sacrificing sleep in order to spend time with me, but I'd rather barely see you and know you are being healthy than have to witness you almost falling asleep in your breakfast every morning." She gave him a pointed look, as if to tell him that this issue was non-negotiable.
Enjolras groaned a little, but he did have to admit that she was right. He really was exhausted. "Fine," he mumbled.
"Second condition. Dinner and a movie. And I want to pick the movie. And the dinner can't be anywhere too fancy. I don't want you spending too much money on me. And do not, under any circumstances, let Jean Prouvaire plan any part of this date, he'd probably have you booking a private yacht and a string quartet."
Enjolras smiled. "That's more than two conditions," he pointed out.
"I added a few addendums," she deadpanned. "So do we have a deal?" She held out her hand for him to shake.
Enjolras smiled. "Deal," he replied, shaking her hand formally.
"In that case it was a pleasure doing business with you," she said with a smile, keeping a hold on his hand as she starting walking again in the direction of their apartment. She stopped after a moment and turned back to him, a troubled expression on her face.
"Wait, you were kidding about all that tax reform stuff back at the Musain, right?" she asked, her eyes wide. "I've done my best to forget about that month but I do remember that those were dark, dark times."
Enjolras chuckled. "Don't worry. I may have acted like I was enjoying myself, but believe me I was suffering just as much as the rest of you. I would never put anyone through that again." Éponine exhaled in relief.
"I think I might still check out those books though. You know, just for the looks on their faces tomorrow," he added with a gleam in his eyes.
"Enjolras, that's a horrible idea," Éponine scoffed. Enjolras glanced at her in confusion, wondering why she wasn't jumping at the chance to torture the Amis. "You don't have time to check those books out. I'll do it for you," she added. He chuckled at her response.
"Are you sure you remember where they are?" he couldn't help asking.
"Trust me, I remember," she responded, smiling somewhat shyly at the ground.
They both blushed at the memory of those earlier, easier times. He locked his eyes on hers as she looked up at him and for a moment they were silent. His heart rate picked up slightly as he realized how close they were. He could see every shade of brown in her eyes. He realized how easy it would be to lean forward, to capture her lips with his. But they had made so much progress and he didn't want to push her away. He hesitated slightly before lifting up his hand slowly and pushing away a lock of hair from her eyes. He let his hand linger, gauging her reaction. She leaned into him slightly, a comfortable look on her face, her eyes drifting shut. He wondered if maybe he should close that distance after all.
He had just begun to lean in when there was a loud shout followed by high-pitched laughter as a group of friends tumbled out of a restaurant nearby. They both sprang apart from the noise, the moment broken. Enjolras was disappointed, but he realized that maybe it was for the best. After all a little banter was a big step away from actual physical intimacy, and he wasn't sure she was ready yet.
There was awkwardness between them now that the moment was over. Enjolras shuffled his feet as Éponine avoided his gaze, a blush on her cheeks. For a second he wondered if this night had just been a fluke.
But then he felt her hand in his, and when he looked up she was smiling at him, her eyes warm. He caught sight of his cast as he looked down at their intertwined hands and couldn't help but grin.
"Come on," she said softly. "Let's go home." She squeezed his hand gently as she started to walk, pulling him along with her.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, and Enjolras realized that at the moment he was completely content. He knew they weren't back to the way they were just yet, but he was satisfied that they had regained some sense of normalcy in their relationship. Maybe everything wasn't perfect at the moment, and maybe they didn't have everything figured out. But they were both trying. They were both here, together.
He loved her. And he knew she still loved him. And right now, he realized, that was more than enough.
