"I Love You"
Chapter 8
Beautiful. This was a word Eponine seldom heard, especially pertaining to herself. She was understandably shocked to receive such a tender compliment from a gorgeous, rich boy like Enjolras. Never in her life had anyone ever thought her nice-looking, or even remotely attractive, for the mask of poverty always veiled her true loveliness. Even her own parents called her ugly--her father in particular--with cruel, degrading remarks that made her want to cry, though she always bit her lip and attempted to ignore them. They constantly referred to the poor girl as a filthy wench or a dirty little hussy; clearly, her self-image had been warped by such harsh insults.
And yet Enjolras still thought her pretty. Unable to fully understand why, Eponine blushed and tried not to look him in the face.
She wiped her eyes, ashamed of her tears, and locked her gaze on the pavement. How silly of her to cry over something so trivial! Here her dear friends from the café worked themselves ragged to plan a revolution that would change the future of a nation, and she was caught up in her own self- pity! She chuckled quietly in spite of herself.
"I'm sorry," she sighed, still rubbing at her eyes, as Enjolras laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm being stupid, I know. Here, we should get back to the café now. I still need to work on some more battle plans."
But Enjolras stiffened and shook his head, remembering once again how new these foreign feelings were to him. He wasn't sure what response he had expected from Eponine after he confessed to her his opinion of her beauty, but her eagerness to return to work definitely surprised him.
"The meeting will be over soon anyway," he stated tightly, though his icy blue eyes remained soft with affection. "We can make up for the lost time tomorrow night."
"No, I mean it," Eponine persisted, feeling suddenly guilty for delaying the progress of the revolution. "I want to help you. Our attack strategies are weak and we need all the time we can get to perfect them. Please."
She flashed him a pleading look, partially hoping to compensate for her foolishness and also to do her share in the fight for justice. The stronger their force, the better their chance of success, and, most importantly to Eponine, survival.
Enjolras considered her words for a moment, but the girl still continued to persuade him as he thought:
"I want to win, Enjolras. If we work hard enough, I know we will. But we have to plan as much as possible. I'll be fine, I promise! I've been ridiculous and I need to do my part. Let us go join the others now!"
Poor Enjolras was absolutely puzzled by her sudden enthusiasm, especially after how miserable she had been only moments ago, but he knew for sure that he did not want his dear girl to become too involved in the fighting.
"Not tonight," he finally decided. "I hate it that you are so intent on battling anyway. I don't want you out in the streets when the fighting begins at last."
The words struck Eponine with shocking force. Suddenly, all her usual feistiness returned, and she raised her head to glare indignantly at the object of her affection.
"What do you mean?" she barked with almost comical outrage. "I helped you with the plans! You will let me fight!"
"No, Eponine," insisted the boy. "It is too dangerous. What happens when the National Guard retaliates? They have far more men and more guns than we will ever have! We will be greatly outnumbered, and the risk is severe!"
Eponine clenched her jaw, and steadied her angry, irregular breathing. Her face was deathly solemn.
"Then I will fight by your side," she assured him as new, hot tears welled up in her eyes, tears of passion rather than anguish. "I will join you in the streets of Paris and I will fight as long as I can. And if we are both killed in battle, I will die with you!"
Her words, grim with ugly truth and magnificent with meaning, filled the air, lingering in the following silence as their significance sank in.
Enjolras' heart nearly stopped in the stillness as he absorbed her feeling. He did not dare blink or remove his gaze from the girl for fear of shattering the somber glass that had crystallized around them in the dark. The understanding that passed between the two figures hushed the surrounding world until everything seemed to stop, as if frozen in time.
Finally, Enjolras swallowed and took another breath, though he experienced some difficulty trying to resume the normal habits.
"I can't let you do that," he whispered, his voice suddenly dry and difficult to hear. "If I die, that is the way it must be. But don't you sacrifice your life as well. Please, Eponine, don't."
But the girl simply stared back at him, unblinking, and spoke the absolute truth from the bottom of her heart:
"You don't understand," she sighed. "If you die, I will too. Even if I don't fight, your death will kill me as well. I have nothing else, Enjolras. I have nothing but you. So I will fight until we perish side by side. That is the way it will be."
Without a moment's delay, Enjolras embraced the girl roughly, pulling her as close to him as he could, pressing her cheek into his.
"Eponine," he whispered huskily into her ear, desperate but sure, with heartrending emotion. "I can't think of this now. I can't think of you dying. Please, let's not worry about such things tonight. Let us go to the café and do our work as usual, but let us not think of death until the time comes!"
And so a silent agreement was made as the two young lovers stayed locked in one another's embrace, tears present but not flowing, until they at last found the strength to return to Le Café Musain.
When they arrived, all the other Amis had long since departed, leaving the large room deserted and dark aside from the low-burning remains of a fire in the hearth, crackling quietly as it died.
Removing her coat, Eponine crossed the floor to stand by it, watching as the smoldering red sparks receded into the black ash. Enjolras followed, still in shock over the evening's events, and halted at her side. Suddenly, he merely wanted to feel her warmth as they stared into the waning embers, drowning in its satisfying heat, forgetting the horrible road down which they would be forced to travel in the near future.
Softly, Eponine lowered herself to the floor, as though in a trance, and waited while Enjolras did the same. The boy set himself down and draped his strong arms around the girl, warming her in the sweet light of the flames. Without much thought, he placed his lips upon her head, kissing her dark hair with love. It was then that a gentle rain began to tap on the roof of the café, its hypnotic rhythm consuming the two of them, filling the darkness.
"Tomorrow is far away, Eponine," said Enjolras. "Tonight, we can listen to the drumming and not give a second thought to what we must do in the future."
Eponine smiled.
"It is our rain."
And in the silence during which they then shared a pure, passionate kiss, the young man and woman remembered the three beautiful words which had brought them together.
THE END
***Well, what did you think? Please review! I've really loved hearing from
you all; you've made me feel so very loved! Oh, and before I forget:
New Les Mis roleplay site:
Help a girl out! I need you!
Chapter 8
Beautiful. This was a word Eponine seldom heard, especially pertaining to herself. She was understandably shocked to receive such a tender compliment from a gorgeous, rich boy like Enjolras. Never in her life had anyone ever thought her nice-looking, or even remotely attractive, for the mask of poverty always veiled her true loveliness. Even her own parents called her ugly--her father in particular--with cruel, degrading remarks that made her want to cry, though she always bit her lip and attempted to ignore them. They constantly referred to the poor girl as a filthy wench or a dirty little hussy; clearly, her self-image had been warped by such harsh insults.
And yet Enjolras still thought her pretty. Unable to fully understand why, Eponine blushed and tried not to look him in the face.
She wiped her eyes, ashamed of her tears, and locked her gaze on the pavement. How silly of her to cry over something so trivial! Here her dear friends from the café worked themselves ragged to plan a revolution that would change the future of a nation, and she was caught up in her own self- pity! She chuckled quietly in spite of herself.
"I'm sorry," she sighed, still rubbing at her eyes, as Enjolras laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm being stupid, I know. Here, we should get back to the café now. I still need to work on some more battle plans."
But Enjolras stiffened and shook his head, remembering once again how new these foreign feelings were to him. He wasn't sure what response he had expected from Eponine after he confessed to her his opinion of her beauty, but her eagerness to return to work definitely surprised him.
"The meeting will be over soon anyway," he stated tightly, though his icy blue eyes remained soft with affection. "We can make up for the lost time tomorrow night."
"No, I mean it," Eponine persisted, feeling suddenly guilty for delaying the progress of the revolution. "I want to help you. Our attack strategies are weak and we need all the time we can get to perfect them. Please."
She flashed him a pleading look, partially hoping to compensate for her foolishness and also to do her share in the fight for justice. The stronger their force, the better their chance of success, and, most importantly to Eponine, survival.
Enjolras considered her words for a moment, but the girl still continued to persuade him as he thought:
"I want to win, Enjolras. If we work hard enough, I know we will. But we have to plan as much as possible. I'll be fine, I promise! I've been ridiculous and I need to do my part. Let us go join the others now!"
Poor Enjolras was absolutely puzzled by her sudden enthusiasm, especially after how miserable she had been only moments ago, but he knew for sure that he did not want his dear girl to become too involved in the fighting.
"Not tonight," he finally decided. "I hate it that you are so intent on battling anyway. I don't want you out in the streets when the fighting begins at last."
The words struck Eponine with shocking force. Suddenly, all her usual feistiness returned, and she raised her head to glare indignantly at the object of her affection.
"What do you mean?" she barked with almost comical outrage. "I helped you with the plans! You will let me fight!"
"No, Eponine," insisted the boy. "It is too dangerous. What happens when the National Guard retaliates? They have far more men and more guns than we will ever have! We will be greatly outnumbered, and the risk is severe!"
Eponine clenched her jaw, and steadied her angry, irregular breathing. Her face was deathly solemn.
"Then I will fight by your side," she assured him as new, hot tears welled up in her eyes, tears of passion rather than anguish. "I will join you in the streets of Paris and I will fight as long as I can. And if we are both killed in battle, I will die with you!"
Her words, grim with ugly truth and magnificent with meaning, filled the air, lingering in the following silence as their significance sank in.
Enjolras' heart nearly stopped in the stillness as he absorbed her feeling. He did not dare blink or remove his gaze from the girl for fear of shattering the somber glass that had crystallized around them in the dark. The understanding that passed between the two figures hushed the surrounding world until everything seemed to stop, as if frozen in time.
Finally, Enjolras swallowed and took another breath, though he experienced some difficulty trying to resume the normal habits.
"I can't let you do that," he whispered, his voice suddenly dry and difficult to hear. "If I die, that is the way it must be. But don't you sacrifice your life as well. Please, Eponine, don't."
But the girl simply stared back at him, unblinking, and spoke the absolute truth from the bottom of her heart:
"You don't understand," she sighed. "If you die, I will too. Even if I don't fight, your death will kill me as well. I have nothing else, Enjolras. I have nothing but you. So I will fight until we perish side by side. That is the way it will be."
Without a moment's delay, Enjolras embraced the girl roughly, pulling her as close to him as he could, pressing her cheek into his.
"Eponine," he whispered huskily into her ear, desperate but sure, with heartrending emotion. "I can't think of this now. I can't think of you dying. Please, let's not worry about such things tonight. Let us go to the café and do our work as usual, but let us not think of death until the time comes!"
And so a silent agreement was made as the two young lovers stayed locked in one another's embrace, tears present but not flowing, until they at last found the strength to return to Le Café Musain.
When they arrived, all the other Amis had long since departed, leaving the large room deserted and dark aside from the low-burning remains of a fire in the hearth, crackling quietly as it died.
Removing her coat, Eponine crossed the floor to stand by it, watching as the smoldering red sparks receded into the black ash. Enjolras followed, still in shock over the evening's events, and halted at her side. Suddenly, he merely wanted to feel her warmth as they stared into the waning embers, drowning in its satisfying heat, forgetting the horrible road down which they would be forced to travel in the near future.
Softly, Eponine lowered herself to the floor, as though in a trance, and waited while Enjolras did the same. The boy set himself down and draped his strong arms around the girl, warming her in the sweet light of the flames. Without much thought, he placed his lips upon her head, kissing her dark hair with love. It was then that a gentle rain began to tap on the roof of the café, its hypnotic rhythm consuming the two of them, filling the darkness.
"Tomorrow is far away, Eponine," said Enjolras. "Tonight, we can listen to the drumming and not give a second thought to what we must do in the future."
Eponine smiled.
"It is our rain."
And in the silence during which they then shared a pure, passionate kiss, the young man and woman remembered the three beautiful words which had brought them together.
THE END
***Well, what did you think? Please review! I've really loved hearing from
you all; you've made me feel so very loved! Oh, and before I forget:
New Les Mis roleplay site:
Help a girl out! I need you!