CHAPTER SIX.
It had taken a full week for Enjolras to figure out why Eponine was so upset. They had talked in Combeferre's garden about her sister and Montparnasse, and she had been upset then, but that was different than this unique Eponine brand of pissed-off sadness. Thankfully, Jehan had given her a pair of Bluetooth headphones as her secret Santa present, drastically minimizing the amount of music blaring from her phone at all hours of the day.
The day that everything clicked, Enjolras had been sitting at his table in the cafe. Eponine had just brought him the usual combination of an iced americano and biting remark when Marius walked in, phone in hand, and almost ran into the bar.
Enjolras noticed him head straight for Eponine as soon as he got his bearings, her expression dissolving into a softness that Enjolras had never seen before. Marius was showing her his phone, gesturing at the screen with an excited yet concerned look on his face. He learned later that Marius was asking her advice on what to say to Cosette. How to respond perfectly to her questions, her jokes, to learn exactly what a girl would want to hear from someone before deciding to date them long term. All of which was uniquely devastating to Eponine, who happened to be infatuated with Marius.
Enjolras noticed it more now, and in hindsight, he couldn't believe that he had missed it before. The way she would laugh at jokes he made that Enjolras knew for a fact she didn't find funny. The way she would rest her hand on his shoulder, or make sure to sit next to him during her breaks at the cafe. She tolerated much more from him than she did everyone else, which annoyed Enjolras for a reason he couldn't quite name.
He couldn't understand why she put up with so much, presumably just for more heartache. It would happen the same way every time: she would go to her job at the cafe or to class and fawn over him, then come back to their apartment and lay on the couch with her headphones in, a scowl on her face. Sometimes she'd just lock herself in her room to do her homework, only coming out for dinner with red and swollen eyes.
Enjolras never had a problem with Marius, but he found that he was getting more annoyed by the day. And, to his regret, it came bubbling to the surface one day in early March.
Enjolras was sitting at the cafe bar, a newspaper in hand, after Eponine had said goodbye to Marius with a wave and a smile. She had just spent the better part of her break chatting with him and was now back behind the bar, drying mugs with a positively depressing look on her face. Musichetta walked past her, clicking her tongue and shaking her head to tease Eponine and signify her disapproval.
Eponine pathetically countered this with a sharp, "Don't be like that! He was just asking my opinion on what color tie he should wear to meet her father, and I suggested green to…"
"Match his eyes?" Musichetta shot her a slightly smug smile from the other side of the counter. Even though she seemed to be teasing Eponine good naturally, Enjolras knew she was concerned like the rest of them. Joly had all but told him, walking to class one day, how Eponine would routinely call his girlfriend late at night to sulk about Marius. Of course, being Eponine's best friend, she knew not to come off too strong when it came to offering her advice. Eponine had never been one to back down from anything.
Musichetta laughed good-naturedly after Eponine threw a pack of napkins her way, muttering something under her breath. Enjolras snapped his paper, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the entire situation before dropping his gaze back down to the story he was reading.
"Do you have something to say?"
Enjolras lowered the paper to find Eponine standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest, the gold in her eyes blazing. He could just about see Musichetta mouth the word "yikes" in his peripheral. He decided to try and play it cool before all hell broke loose.
He cleared his throat and asked, not as calmly as he hoped, "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, you are absolutely not playing dumb with me, Enjolras. I haven't seen you roll your eyes so hard since Grantaire told us he was going to do dry January."
"I'm just frustrated with one of the reports, that's all."
She uncrossed her arms to swiftly grab the newspaper out of his hands, unceremoniously dropping it to the floor behind the counter before resting her hands on her hips.
"What story was that?"
In the wake of Eponine's scorching glare and pursed lips, Enjolras managed to forget every news story he'd ever heard. In a panic, his eyes darted toward his discarded newspaper. Eponine stepped directly in front of him, tilting her head to the side in order to disrupt his eyeline even further.
"What. Story."
He felt his mouth go dry. Sure, he had gone head-to-head with Eponine before. They weren't strangers to a good argument or a sarcasm-laced conversation. But never had he been so… at her mercy? Intimidated? Embarrassed, of course. Truth be told, it was out of character for him to bring up something so personal. But something about seeing her torn up, day after day, had frustrated him to a point that he usually didn't reach.
He finally managed to blurt out, "The election."
"The election?" She echoed, her eyebrows raised.
He nodded. Of course, the upcoming election was what every news story had been about for a good few months. He wasn't sure why he even attempted this as an answer when they both knew exactly what caused his frustration. He opened his mouth to mutter a quick apology.
Before he could even start, she turned with a huff, slamming a coffee cup down on its shelf so hard that the others rattled.
"Since when do you care so much about my personal life?"
"I'm sorry Eponine, it's just that…"
She turned to face him again, arms across her chest, her head tilted to the side waiting for him to continue. He cautiously spoke up, not being able to hide the edge of frustration that laced his voice.
"I don't think that it's… the best idea for you to keep having these conversations with him. They obviously upset you, and…"
Enjolras didn't need to say his name; they all knew he was talking about Marius. She continued cleaning up the bar area, her movements harsh and stiff, and he was already feeling his regret building.
"... and none of us want to see you hurt, Eponine."
She spun around, her dark hair wild and wavy around her face.
"I am absolutely not accepting a lecture from you, of all people, about who I talk to and what we talk about. In fact…"
She reached out and grabbed his almost full americano, her eyes defiantly locking with his as she turned the cup over and poured it down the drain.
"No coffee for you."
She dropped the now empty cup in the sink and turned away from him again, leaving him in exasperated silence. She shouted for Musichetta, who was at the other end of the bar.
"Musichetta! Don't give him any more coffee!"
"Jesus, what did you do to her?"
Courf had just entered the cafe and made his way to sit next to Enjolras, only catching the end of their conversation. Enjolras jealously eyed Courf's coffee, just handed to him by Musichetta, who had made it when she first saw him through the window.
Eponine answered from the other end of the bar, "He's meddling!"
Enjolras responded, eyebrows raised and annoyance in his voice, "I was just trying - nicely, mind you - to let her know that she shouldn't have to tolerate as much as she does from… him."
"Wow, I vastly overestimated your level of awareness about these things, didn't I?" Courf said with his eyes wide, taking a sip from his drink.
Enjolras didn't understand the reactions everyone was exhibiting. Eponine was much more upset than he would have expected, and both Musichetta and Courf were acting like he was an idiot for even broaching the subject. Didn't they agree with him? Musichetta knows more than anyone about exactly how much Eponine is hurting. He knows for a fact that Courf, despite being genuinely fond of the guy, would like to punch Marius in the gut for how he's making her feel. Enjolras himself was fast approaching the same sentiment.
"Look, I'm sorry, Eponine. I didn't know you'd be so - "
As if it was even possible, Enjolras knew immediately that he had said something to make the situation worse before he even finished his sentence. Both Courf and Musichetta were silent, and Eponine had frozen in place, then turned to face him.
"Go on. Finish what you were saying. 'So' what? Hysterical? Irrational?"
"That's not what I - "
"Back room. Now."
She threw her cleaning cloth onto the counter and pointed towards the door at the back of the cafe, which Enjolras knew led to the employees-only area. Enjolras wasn't sure if he'd ever seen her so angry. She turned to make her way to the back room while he shot a desperate look at Courf, who only shrugged his shoulders as a way to say well, what did you expect?
He hesitated for a moment before following her, fully prepared to be yelled at within an inch of his life, if he managed to survive at all. He stepped through the back door to find himself in a small, dark hallway with a door on each side. Eponine was standing in the doorway of the room to the left, arms crossed over her chest. Behind her, Enjolras could make out shelves of dry goods and a small, cluttered desk.
Once she saw him, she took a step back into the small office and he followed. Once inside, she leaned forward to pull the door closed by the handle. She stood in front of him, her eyes flashed dark and the tips of her ears were red. She practically stomped her foot when she exclaimed, "Why are you being such an asshole!?"
"Me?! Eponine, you're the one that's acting like I've committed a war crime!"
She stepped forward, pointing at his chest not even a foot away from him in the tiny space.
"I know you're not very good at picking up on emotional cues, Enjolras, but can you imagine for one second how that just made me feel?!"
"How what made you feel? Someone being concerned about you?"
"Concerned? More like someone acting like they know how to make my choices better than I can!"
She jabbed her finger into his chest so hard he half expected to find a bruise there later.
"Eponine - "
"No, Enjolras! Don't you think that I'm aware of the fact that Marius is just using me? That he's completely infatuated with someone who is the total opposite of me? Don't you think that it's humiliating enough knowing that he's the only person, out of everyone in this fucking city, who doesn't know I have feelings for him?"
She was growing more upset with every word, her dark eyes gleaming with what Enjolras hoped to god weren't tears. He opened his mouth to say something, but she just kept going, and every word caused his heart to drop lower into his stomach.
"Do you know how shitty it is to feel everyone looking at me when I talk to him, and as soon as he leaves they all whisper to each other about how pathetic I am? To know that the second they start officially dating he'll pretend like I don't exist? I know that I'm fucking invisible, Enjolras - I don't need you to remind me!"
"Eponine - "
"And don't you dare try to excuse yourself by saying you're concerned! I don't need your concern! Has it ever occurred to you that Courf already talked to me about this? That Musichetta already tried to use that reasoning with me? It's humiliating and infantilizing, and if one more person says that they're fucking concerned about me I'm going to lose it!"
Holy shit, was this her not losing it?
"Eponine!"
She stopped now, breathing heavily and staring up at him, almost daring him to challenge her.
"I'm sorry."
Their eyes were locked, and he could tell that he had surprised her by not continuing to argue. She had opened her mouth, preparing to respond to his argument, but faltered when she realized he didn't have one. Courf was right; he really had been incredibly stupid about this whole thing. When he said it again she looked away, her lips pursed and her arms crossed over her chest once again.
"I'm sorry. It's just that… you're my friend, Eponine. I see how this affects you on top of everything else you have going on, and it baffles me that you put up with it."
Her eyes closed and she took a deep, shaking breath. Maybe he would live to see another day. Her voice was calmer when she spoke.
"Marius was the first person that I met at school. He was nice to me. He didn't care at all that my family is my family, no matter how much I try to distance myself from them. I was all alone out here, and all I had was Montparnasse, who I'm sure you know wasn't exactly a shoulder to cry on."
"I hope you know you have more than just Marius now."
All she could do was nod, still not meeting his gaze. He expected her to brush past him and return to the cafe, but instead, they stood there in silence for a moment longer. The office was so small that he could smell the shampoo she used, a sort of fruity coconut scent that he had seen in the shower before. It felt like an eternity of standing there, listening to her heartbeat against her rib cage and smelling her shampoo, before she finally looked at him. She tilted her head to the side just so and asked, "So, we're friends?"
He felt a blush creep up his face when he remembered what she was referencing. All he could do was sigh and concede with a chuckle, "Yes."
"You need to promise me that you'll never bring this up again, okay?"
"Agreed."
She stepped past him to open the door. "I'm still mad at you."
He almost laughed at that.
"I wouldn't expect anything less."
