A/N: No, I have NOT dropped off the face of the earth, I just… haven't really been struck by a stroke of genius lately. Lol but here's the next chappie!
Chapter 13
The pair of them talked for another hour or so, and Eponine drifted off to sleep pretty quickly. She hadn't had a decent bed, or warmth, or comfort since leaving a few weeks ago. To her, it felt like it had been years since she'd felt Erik's warm and tender embrace. She fell asleep in his arms, and he settled her gently on the bed in the Louis-Philippe room.
Erik looked down at Eponine and sighed in contentment. He hadn't felt this happy in so long. He smiled a little when he saw her hat flop down over her eyes; he picked it up gently and placed it on the bedside table. Her coat looked scratchy and damp, so he eased her arms out of the sleeves and hung it on the bedpost. Her skirt was also quite thin and wet, and he knew it definitely wasn't keeping her warm. He divested her of that as well.
Erik stood there for a moment, simply studying Eponine. He wasn't tired in the least, so he decided to paint her. He slipped out of the room and returned with canvases, brushes and colors. Setting up in the corner and seeing how Eponine was sleeping so soundly, Erik knew he could paint all night.
He began with her outline; she was sleeping on her side, so that wasn't hard. The hard part was all the shadows, because of the number of candles in the room. There was one on the bedside table, and it illuminated her face perfectly. Erik's breath caught in his throat when he saw it – Eponine was an angel in disguise.
As he continued, even stenciling in the minute details like a stray hair across her face or the shine of her lips, Erik felt himself falling even more in love with this girl. He couldn't see how he had ever argued with her.
Erik finished a few hours later, exhilarated with his latest masterpiece. He had captured Eponine's innocent inner beauty perfectly. Her long bangs framed her face, and her head rested on her arms. He watched the swell of her breasts move slowly through the thin material of her chemise as she breathed.
Suddenly his mind sent off an alarm. She was just wearing her chemise! What had he done? Then he remembered: he had stripped her of her skirt and coat earlier, because they were still wet from being out in the rain. Erik smacked himself in the forehead. He had been so intent on painting that he hadn't noticed how close to naked Eponine was.
Erik hastily covered her still-sleeping form with the quilt; it had lain abandoned at the foot of the bed for all this time. How could he not have noticed? He ran a hand through his hair and looked again from the painting to Eponine. It was perfect, he decided.
He wasn't sure what to do after that, so he just sat back on his little wooden stool against the wall and waited…
X-X-X-X-X
The only way Erik knew it was morning was when he heard numerous footsteps above him. He opened his eyes and realized he had been dozing as he waited for Eponine to wake up. He looked at where she lay on the bed; she was smiling at him.
"Good morning, sleepy," she yawned.
"Good morning yourself," he replied, stretching.
Then he recognized the fact that he hadn't done anything with the painting from last night. There it still stood, on his easel. He'd set the entire structure off to one side so he could see Eponine better, but now she looked at it curiously.
"Erik, what's that?"
She nodded at the easel, and he felt his stomach clench.
"I… I wasn't tired last night, so… I painted you."
She
sat up enthusiastically. "Can I see it?"
He raised his visible
eyebrow at her, and she glanced down in shock.
"Where are my jacket and… my skirt?" she asked uncertainly, sliding carefully beneath the covers again.
He gestured; the coat still hung on the bedpost, and her skirt was lying on the floor.
"Erik, tell me you didn't do what I think you did."
"Which is?"
"You painted me like this?"
She bolted from the bed and stood in front of him; he was thankful her chemise was long enough to cover the tops of her thighs in the front, but it was still a bit wet as well, and clung to her breasts more than ever.
He took a breath and let it out slowly.
"Well… yes."
She groaned and stormed over to where the easel was still facing in her direction. She snatched the canvas before he could grab it away, and he covered his face with his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.
"Oh, Erik…"
"I'm… not sorry, Eponine," his voice was muffled through his hands. "I don't care if you don't like it, because you're beautiful in every way in the world."
"No… oh Erik, it's… is that really me?"
He looked up. "Every detail."
"It's hard to believe. You make everything look gorgeous, my love."
She smiled and kissed him, still holding the canvas.
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A/N: Ooo, I liked this one! Yay! It was fun, especially since I've been so blocked lately! R&R!
-- Ash
