The Marble Man
Disclaimer: Still not mine. I know, surprising.
AN: This chapter has been in my files for over a week now. Only because of the awesomeness of Christine (yay!) and Camille (for pushing me into updating) is this seeing the light now.
Chapter thirteen:
Her headache is pretty much gone the next day, but she still has not managed to silence the damn thoughts that are stuck in her head. Her mind is buzzing with the possibilities, of just who Musichetta was talking about – she would prefer to deny that the other woman was talking about Enjolras. That would be bad.
"Ugh," she groans as she shifts positions.
After all of this sitting and sketching, her hands are starting to cramp. She needs something else to do other than to attempt to capture the people of Musain on paper. After an entire morning of sketching she is still not quite happy with her results. Sure, she has a few decent sketches of Jehan, and even a few, that she kind of likes, depicting Musichetta and her brother running the Corinthe together.
But even after several weeks of trying, she still cannot quite get Enjolras right – and she just cannot stand it. Even with him just sitting a few feet away from her in one of the big chairs, close enough to see every curl of his hair, she still cannot get the line of his jaw right, or the hint of a sparkle in his ancient eyes. Her drawing skills are too limited to capture his presence, and she curses under her breath yet again.
There is a groan from Enjolras – not the first since he has sat down to read – and she has to stifle her giggles as she watches his frustration over the novel in his hands mount to all new heights. She suspects that Jehan only gave him Madame Bovary to read to torture him – and it appears to be working quite well. She will have to tell Jehan of the success of his evil plan next time they have a chance to talk one-on-one. It is delightful watching the frustration mount, but it is better if she can share it with someone.
She wonders what part of the novel appears to be frustrating him so and she is this close to asking, only refraining from it because that would distract him from this fierce level of concentration. She has not read the novel herself, but she is sure that his response to it is at least twice as entertaining as the book itself.
The summary she found online told her that the book is about a woman who feels trapped in a marriage to a man she thinks of as boring – and she has affairs with several men throughout the course of the novel. She wonders how many times Enjolras has already tried to throw the book across the room. It would go against pretty much everything he believes in – these characters do all the things that he could never and would never do. Surely Enjolras would initially like the husband, an exceedingly moral man, but find him lacking in action and motivation. The Man Protesting would never be able to abide that.
Okay, so maybe she read some articles about the novel, just to know exactly what to do or say to frustrate Enjolras, or just to know why he was getting flustered.
It seems as if his frustration is showing itself in a different way. His jaw drops for a brief second before he starts flushing that shade of red that she finds so endearing.
What in this book could even make him turn that shade? She goes over the summary she read again in her head until she tracks down the culprit – the carriage scene. Sure, the scene itself is not particularly salacious because what is actually described is merely a carriage moving through town for hours on end. The author just mentions names of streets and the focus is strictly on the footman who is completely misunderstanding what is actually going on inside his carriage. It is a passage that might need to be read several times to understand what is actually going on.
But it appears as if Enjolras understood the first time – his cheeks are flushed and his surreptitious glances at her tell her more than plenty about what he does and does not glean from this scene. He understands just what is going on at this point while the footman remains clueless, and now that he knows, he simply can't remain straight-faced as he reads the final paragraphs with her right there.
And because she's kind of a bitch that way, she just keeps staring at him while he tries to remain focused. She loves seeing him flustered, and this is just another shot for her to study the way he still blushes when the modern world proves too forward for him.
Enjolras shifts positions again, curling up awkwardly with a pillow he finds nearby, pulling the pillow onto his lap and placing the book on top of it, still blushing. She stares at him some more, wondering what the hell that is all about, until suddenly she understands just what is going on, and why his glances in her direction are getting more and more guilty – and much less sneaky.
This is actually kind of – well, God, what even is the right word for this? She definitely cannot make fun of him for this! And now he keeps trying to sneak glances at her and looking away just when she catches him at it. He is too embarrassed to say anything, and she doesn't want to do anything that would indicate that she knows, and now they are both blushing idiots, trying to look away from each other as fast as possible.
She looks at her failed sketches again, trying to focus on anything but this, but when she puts her pencil to paper, nothing happens. She can't seem to think of anything other than him – and that is a problem. The pencil moves in less than graceful arcs and she finds herself drawing another subpar version of Enjolras. She tears out the page, frustrated, and finds herself looking at her stupid muse again.
Her gaze keeps being drawn to that stupid pillow, and her ears and neck and face are now all flushed. The blush must be all over her body by now, and still she cannot seem to tear herself away. These stupid inappropriate thoughts keep going through her head and just making things even more awkward. She should not be thinking of him in such an improper way, because he is only responding like this because of the sexy scene in the book. It has absolutely nothing to do with her. She is just reacting to him, that's all. And if she keeps telling herself that, she might eventually believe that.
This is so fucking awkward.
"Have you seen the great weather we're having?" she kind of wants to smack herself, but now that she has started talking, she cannot seem to stop. "The sun has been shining for days on end, and the temperature is perfect for being outside. I can't believe we've been inside for most of the weekend!"
The weather is stifling enough to keep her in shorts and tank tops, her long legs crossing when she leans a bit closer to Enjolras, trying to keep his attention even though she is feeling every bit the fool she never wanted to be. She puts on a smile, and tries to make it look harmless, rather than as stupid as she feels.
"We should really take you out into town again," she blathers on while frantically trying to find a cure for the sudden onset of foot in mouth syndrome. "Sure, I know that there isn't anything spectacular to see, but it can't be all that good for you to stay inside so much. Should we teach you more about the outside world? God, we should probably prepare you so that you can eventually integrate into society! Maybe we need to ask Combeferre to drop by again. He is a way better teacher than I am!"
For a brief moment, she manages to stop talking and stare at the sketches on her lap, fighting the urge to either rip them apart or hide them – but that is only going to make it more interesting for him to look at them. And that is probably the only thing that could make this situation more awkward.
She is pointedly not looking at the pillow and what she thinks he is hiding underneath. If she looks at that, if only for a fraction of a second, she will start to contemplate things that are never going to happen – she is going to force motives on him that are unlikely to be near his actual reasons for whatever is occurring underneath that pillow. She does not have anything to do with his body's response – and she should not even be considering that. It is not about her.
"Do you feel more confident now that you've met some other people?" she has somehow managed to have an entire conversation about him without his actual input. "This way, I'm sure it will be much easier to go out into town."
Once again she does not even give him the time to respond before she just starts blabbering on and on and on about whatever comes to mind. She never knew she could need so many words to say so little, but here she is, giving speeches that even James fucking Joyce would be jealous of – stream of consciousness, the lot of it.
"But why would you want to go into town when you can read?" she finds herself talking about this awkward situation even in her stupid ramblings. "You love to read. Hell, reading is pretty much the only way I've seen you engage with contemporary culture, or whatever it is you call it. You don't watch movies or shows – seriously, I don't know if they have a movie theater here, but we should take you there. I'm game, as long as it isn't porn. Though, knowing R, he's bound to take you to see something dirty."
The word-vomit just does not end, and now she is taking it into the wrong direction – and she still cannot stop talking. She knows that she is only making it worse, but she can't help herself. From the corner of her eye, she can see that Enjolras is completely petrified. He is hunched in on himself, still blushing, and all around trying to avoid her gaze as she just keeps rambling on. She is just making it worse.
"Speaking of dirty," she hits pay dirt on Embarrassment City. "Jehan told me what book he gave you to read. I did some research, and well, if the carriage is a-rocking, don't come a-knocking. That scene is quite the doozy, apparently."
And now her vocabulary is fucked up too. She barely even knows what she is saying.
Enjolras is still sitting in the chair, trying to shift ever so surreptitiously. She can tell what he is doing, but she is still trying to talk over the awkwardness by using as many words as she can to fill the silence. Of course, it is not helping.
"That's a funny word, isn't it?" she just keeps going. "Doozy. Doooooozy. You don't hear that very often when talking about sex, right? I mean, it's such a marvelous word but you don't hear people talking about having tons of doozies – not in the bedroom. Or maybe we just don't know about it? Maybe people have lots of doozies – everywhere, all the time. But they just don't talk about it. And I mean, that's just stupid, because if I had a doozy, I know I'd be talking about nothing else for weeks! Well, there was that one time in college. I guess you could call that a doozy. I'm not sure if it actually counts as one, but it's the closest I've ever come, so-"
A knock on the door cuts her off midsentence, and she can't help but feel a flood of relief rushing through her. Finally. Fucking finally! She can shut up now, because someone else's presence might end this awkward tension.
There is another knock. It is hesitant, and she wonders who it might be – the nature of the knock does rule out those asshole gendarmes, but it also rules out the rest of Jehan and R's amis.
"Hello?" the voice of a lark trills.
Ah yes, just to make this moment even worse, Cosette has to show up. She grumbles, getting up to open the door – because she knows Enjolras is not going to move an inch in his current situation. Getting up would require showing her – and possibly Cosette – what is going on, and that would just be much too awkward to even contemplate. No, it is best if he just stays sitting down, using the pillow to hide behind.
"Don't get up," she implores, relieved that the knock on the door jarred her enough to startle some sass back into her.
Her walk to the door is slow and hesitant, but eventually she reaches her destination and is forced to open up and be pleasant to this girl who is so disgustingly sweet people around her are getting cavities just being near her.
"Hello Cosette," she puts on a smile and hopes this will be over soon.
"Éponine," Cosette actually seems genuinely happy to see her. "I'm glad to see you appear to be recovering excellently from the party."
If they never talk about that party again it might still be too soon for her – yes, she is aware of how harsh that sounds, but talking to Cosette about that damn party is just about the last thing that she wants to be doing. All Cosette will want to talk about is that damn story of the dance with Enjolras and how he got her home. It is obvious that everyone is reading way too much into that, and she hates it.
"Yes, I am, thank you," she has to force the polite tone of voice.
"I noticed that your friend Enjolras took you home," Cosette seems self-assured and confident in comparison. "I was wondering if you know where I could find him?"
Well, that is a fucking twist. Why would Cosette want to talk to Enjolras? Well, unless it was about their family, there would be no way that this young woman would ever be interested in discussing things with him. She really hopes that he did not do anything half as stupid as she apparently did on Friday night, but she has started to worry that he might have revealed things to Cosette that he cannot possibly explain. She mentally starts listing things they will need if they were to go on the run to escape from the asshole cops – let's be real, she is sure that Cosette does not like her very much, and that would definitely extend to revealing some of the inherent weirdness that always surrounds both her and Enjolras to the gendarmes.
God, she really hopes that he managed to keep his mouth shut. Sure, she has never known him to be loose-lipped – that is, in the barely two weeks that he's been awake – but a family connection could have made him loosen up in all the bad ways.
"He is here right now," she blurts out before giving it another thought. "We were just hanging out, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you joined us for a while."
She hates that she now has to play the polite host to Cosette – the girl came by on her perfect little bicycle for fuck's sake, with a basket and everything! Though she cannot deny herself the opportunity to thoroughly embarrass Enjolras with the presence of yet another woman while he is in this delicate situation. She wonders if it will bring that typical blush back to his cheeks.
"That's very kind of you," Cosette is smiling happily. "I found something that I think would interest him, and I was out and about anyway."
That only serves to make her even more curious about what is going on between Enjolras and Cosette. It will not be anything inappropriate – Enjolras sees her as a sister more than anything – but she still wonders if Marius knows. It probably has everything to do with their distant family connection, because there is no other connection. Would these two be able to be friends? She is not sure, because while Cosette is much kinder and more patient than she can ever be, Enjolras is fiercely loyal enough to not consider looking for another friend. She wonders if he shouldn't have other friends – though she knows that 'Ferre would take care of him if she left. When she left.
"Enjolras," she refers to him by his last name as usual. "Cosette is here to see you!"
With a quick move, she makes sure that she walks into the room before the other woman, just to make sure that she will see exactly how Enjolras responds – so far, it's mostly mild terror showing in his eyes. He is forcing the pillow to stay on his lap, weighing it down with that damn book that he is somehow still reading. His eyes are the only part of his body showing just how panicked he is.
"Mademoiselle Cosette," suddenly Enjolras realizes how perilous this situation is.
He can greet Cosette in a perfectly polite way, until he realizes that for them to have a customary greeting, he will actually have to get up from the chair. And that would most definitely reveal his, well, situation to Cosette. And that would be decidedly improper.
This leaves him awkwardly posed, somewhere halfway between sitting and standing, pillow and book pressed to his lap. He is looking at Éponine with wide eyes, pleading with her to find some kind of solution to this awkward situation before he has to reveal something he does not particularly want to reveal.
"Oh, don't stand up on my account," Cosette solves the problem for him, leaning in for the customary kisses on the cheek. "It is lovely to see you again."
Enjolras is still blushing – now also because of those kisses, no matter how much of a part they are of the social norms. He does not come into contact with women a lot – he would probably have a coronary if she tried the same thing on him. He still blushes when she comes near him or touches him. She lets him stay distant most of the time, unless she really wants to ruffle his feathers at a certain time.
"Likewise, Mademoiselle Cosette," Enjolras is unflinchingly polite again.
"I am here because we had such fun discussing history at the party," Cosette sits down on the couch and directs her speech at Enjolras.
That must have been while Éponine was drunk off her face, because she does not recall any such conversation. Heck, she probably wasn't present for his deep talk with his great-great-great-great niece – or however many greats she has to add to that. She is not a part of his family, and she should not want to be a part of this. She is often too overprotective of him and who he talks to, and she should just let that go already.
He must be able to converse with someone without a babysitter by now, and she really has to give him a chance to do so. He does not need her supervision. Heck, she doesn't even want to be a babysitter – and still she does it for him all the time.
"Yes we did," Enjolras seems torn between being gleeful and pained.
It must be nice for him to discuss some things about the past with someone without talking about his own dark fate – she knows that she is terrible at talking to him without asking for more information about what happened to him. She is a curious bitch, and she is never going to stop trying to figure out his curse and his past. Cosette, because she does not know about the curse, is not going to try that.
She is sure that must feel nice and safe to him.
"Well, I found this interesting book about local history," Cosette pulls a thick tome out of her bag. "I figured that you might like to read it. At least, when you're done with… Ah, Madame Bovary. A classic."
That is the downside of keeping the book so visible on his lap – anyone can tell just what he is reading. Really, Enjolras should be glad that Cosette cannot tell exactly what part of the novel he was reading just now. That certainly would have made it worse.
"It is very kind of you to think of me," Enjolras is the perfect gentleman. "I would love to find out more about local history. It is one of my particular interests."
It all just sounds so perfectly civilized, as if they're having a cup of tea together in the drawing room. Cosette would fit right into that world, the one with big dresses and chaperones and dances at Almack's. Éponine sees her own ratty shorts and knows that if the roles were reversed – if she was stranded in a different era – she would stick out like a sore thumb. And she wouldn't have a clue what to do.
Really, the fact that it hasn't been necessary to lock Enjolras up in a mental hospital – that's a fucking miracle. He has managed to make it through all of this, in less than two weeks, without losing it. Sure, he needed a shoulder to cry on at the party, but she cannot blame him for that. She is actually kind of proud of his progress.
What a turnaround after the stupid awkwardness earlier.
"I'll leave the book here for you to peruse," Cosette gently places the book on the table near Enjolras. "And when you've finished it, you can come by and we can discuss it."
This is too fucking much! Maybe she should just leave these two alone to have a nice chat about history and all of that proper stuff – because clearly he doesn't get enough of that with her or 'Ferre or their other friends.
God, since when is she so fucking possessive over anything or anyone? Enjolras is her friend, as terrifying as that still sounds, which does not mean that she has any right to make decisions for him in regard to who he talks to and what he talks about. She worries and she acts like a total idiot because of it, but he is capable of protecting himself – hell, he was the one who got her home safely just two days ago.
"I would like that," Enjolras is actually smiling now.
"I'm such a shit hostess," she interrupts. "Cosette, would you like anything to drink?"
It is a terrible way to insert herself into the conversation, but she indeed should have offered Cosette something the second she entered the house. It is the polite thing to do, and this whole bizarre moment has been all about being polite.
"No, thank you, I'm alright," Cosette is acting kindly. "I was actually on my way to visit my father. I just came by to drop this off for Enjolras, since I was nearby."
She is sure that more pleasantries will follow, and she tires at the insincerity of it all – because why would people thank you all the time when they don't mean it? She is much more straightforward than that, and if she dislikes someone, she would prefer to just say it outright. There is something to be said for tact, she knows that much, but in the privacy of her temporary home, she doesn't want to fake a damn thing more than she needs to. It's already complicated enough with all of the secrets in the house.
"We did not get the chance to talk at the party," Cosette now turns in her direction with that same smile. "We should go and get a cup of coffee some time, get to know each other a little bit better. I would very much like that."
Cosette's offer of friendship – because Éponine knows that is what the other woman means – leaves her flabbergasted. Eponine has been crushing on Marius since the second she met him – and he still gives her butterflies when he smiles, sometimes – and now Marius' long-term girlfriend is offering her friendship. These things should not add up, but for some reason Cosette believes that they do.
"Sure," Éponine tries to sound as noncommittal as possible.
"Well, I'm off to have tea with my father," Cosette stands up, ready to leave. "Enjolras, I hope you enjoy the book. Call me when you're finished so we can talk."
Wait, meaning that Enjolras would actually have to operate a phone? That is not going to happen without her help – she has already seen the vaguely terrified look appear on Enjolras' face at the mere thought of it. She looks back at him, knowing that she'll have a new skill to teach him over the next few days, and she does not mind.
"It was nice to see you again," she tells Cosette as she walks her out.
"You too," Cosette is surprisingly genuine. "Call me about coffee, okay?"
And with that, the other woman gets on her cutesy bicycle and cycles away, leaving Éponine rolling her eyes at how picture perfect that looked. It is a little ridiculous, but she has grown to roll with that in this damn town.
"She asked me to call her," Enjolras is still panicked when she returns to the living room.
"I'll teach you," she smiles at him. "You'll be a pro within a few days. Promise!"
In her head, she is already mapping out the various things that she will have to discuss with him if he allows her to teach him all about having conversations on the phone. It is a very useful skill that they have not been able to cover in his lessons yet. Combeferre's vacation from school has just started, so he should have more time soon for these lessons. Though, this one she would like to teach herself.
"I have plenty of time to go through the whole process with you tomorrow," she offers, hoping that he will accept.
"That would be great," he is smiling at her. "Thank you!"
This politeness stuff is still pretty damn weird to her, but they are actually friends now and apparently friends are usually nice to each other. She is not too clear on the details, because she is not good with friends. She is great with the casual, but not when things turn to more serious subjects. If she wants him to continue being her friend, she's gonna have to learn – and that's just terrifying.
When she looks at him next, she finds him staring at the book and not even moving a single muscle. She debates with herself for a minute, trying to figure out how to respond to this and what to do. Sure, the book must be very intriguing to him, but it could also reveal some painful truths about his past. He needs her support.
"You okay?" she asks, sitting down on the arm of his chair.
There is no response at first – he is too busy staring holes into the cover of that damn book. So she takes it away from him, lifting the heavy tome and checking out the cover for herself. It looks like the book itself is relatively new – judging by the way the ancient pictures on the cover have been edited – but it has been read and studied several times already, seeing as it shows the first hints of wear and tear. She can almost picture Cosette poring over this book, studying every picture and line to find an answer – and she can picture Enjolras doing the same. And then she worries.
This could get pretty bad.
"Hey," she tries to get his attention again, giving him a slight nudge.
"I am fine, Mademoiselle Éponine," Enjolras is the picture of gentlemanly behavior.
He is also lying, because he is absolutely not fine. She can tell just by the look on his stupid face that there are a lot of things going on with him – and none of these things involve him being fine. His body language tells a completely different story; Enjolras is hunched over in his seat where he usually has perfect posture, and his brow is furrowed as if he is thinking on some serious issues. That does not spell fine.
"No, really," she insists on the truth. "Are you really okay? I mean, I know that I tease you a lot, but I'm still here if you ever decide that you want to talk."
There is no response from him, at first. Enjolras looks down, almost as if he is trying to process what she just said before saying something in return. What she said wasn't particularly complicated, but she'll give him some time nonetheless.
"Thank you," he finally speaks.
For a brief moment, she thinks that he might say something else. Enjolras takes a deep breath as if he is preparing to speak, but then he looks away from her, and even though they are sitting close, it feels like there are miles between them.
e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e
By the time she's finally gotten another decent sketch out of her cramping fingers, it is time for Jehan to come home. Enjolras has apparently finished Madame Bovary, since he is currently hunched over Cosette's book. If a bomb were to go off in the house, he probably would not even look up. He might not even notice at all.
"Come on in," Jehan appears not to be alone.
When he enters the living room, he is quickly followed by both her favorite teacher – she has not seen Ferre in days – and Feuilly, the furniture artist who was in on their scavenger hunt on Friday. Both men are discussing something rather animatedly, talking so loudly of meetings and causes so loudly that even Enjolras sits up and pays attention.
"I made sure that I don't have to work overtime Wednesday evening," Feuilly says. "My boss wasn't happy. He doesn't like what he calls my activist tendencies."
Both Combeferre and Jehan laugh at that, and she finds herself fighting a smile at Feuilly's tone of voice. It is fond exasperation, because Feuilly actually seems to like his boss, even though they might not agree about everything. It is a novel concept for her, because Musichetta is her first boss that she has not hated outright.
"It's a serious problem," Combeferre is done laughing. "I cannot believe everyone is just letting this happen. I am not yet old enough to have former students with these troubles, but give it two years and I'll have to see them give up!"
There is an anger in 'Ferre that she has not seen him display before. Sure, he is a passionate man, and clearly this issue – whatever it may be – has managed to grab his attention, but the kind and patient teacher she knows is rarely angry. This must have something to do with some kind of injustice, or whatever.
"I can see what it's doing to R," Jehan chimes in, and it's like her heart stops.
"Drugs?" she stammers, trying to put the pieces together. "This is about drugs?"
What is going on in this sleepy little town that involves drugs? She's seen most of the aftereffects of the habit in Grantaire – but he has never let any one of them catch him actually using. So are they planning an intervention now? She knows that the habit is bad, and that they should make R quit, but she wonders how successful an intervention would be for a man as stubborn as Grantaire. Honestly, he would probably start using even more just to spite them. And that just defeats the purpose.
"Hello Éponine," Combeferre smiles pleasantly.
"What are you guys talking about?" she has to know. "Are you guys planning an intervention for R? You've got to know that won't work! He won't listen!"
That certainly makes them all laugh – well, all except Enjolras, who looks angry that these men would laugh at her – and she knows that she has probably said something incredibly stupid. Maybe she should have let them talk a while longer, to figure out what is truly going on. Still, she made a half-informed guess.
"This town has some serious drug problems," Feuilly starts to explain. "R is nothing compared to what is really going on here. And it needs to stop! We're planning a meeting for this Wednesday. Everyone who wants to help change things is invited!"
Feuilly is not a particularly strong or gifted orator, but he explains things clearly enough that she gets a basic understanding of the matter at hand. She has not really seen any of the seedy underbelly of this town herself – but then again, these days, she does not leave the house except to go to work. She does not spend time wandering around town, so she won't really see what is really going on.
"You should come," Jehan tells her.
She halts, because she has only been in this town for such a short time. Is this even something that she should worry about? Is this even her problem? She knows how selfish it is to think that, but she also knows that while she would love to help R with his problems, she is not going to stick around here long enough to fix the entire town.
"Enjolras, what do you think?" she asks him, trying to get him away from the book.
"I know very little about addiction and the kind of drugs you speak of," Enjolras is ashamed to admit that he has little knowledge about something. "I do know that addiction to any substance can be a terrible thing."
It might be odd for him to admit that he has so little knowledge of drug addiction, when it is almost a twisted staple of their culture, and it shows up in the media all the time. But still, addiction would have been a thing even before Enjolras turned to marble – whenever that was – and he might have some good things to say about the issue nonetheless. He has a gift with words that these boys could learn a lot from.
"Will you join us?" Feuilly asks Enjolras.
"If Mademoiselle Éponine comes along as well," Enjolras puts the ball in her court again, and she stills. "If she agrees, yes, I will come to your meeting."
Thanks for that, Enjolras. She really is not sure if she wants to get in any way involved with this damn town and this problems. God, she should really start making plans to get out of here – she is earning decent pay during her shifts at the Corinthe, and she is close to getting a decent amount of money saved up. It should not take her that much longer to make enough money to get away from this place.
"The meeting is on Wednesday?" she asks the men, trying to stall for time.
"Wednesday evening," Combeferre responds quickly. "Do you have to work?"
Actually, that is one of the few nights that she should technically have the time to do something like this. She has the early afternoon shift on Wednesdays, which should leave her with plenty of time to attend the meeting. She has the opportunity, but she is this close to telling them some bullshit story about how she has something incredibly important to do that night, just to avoid getting any further sucked into the mess that is Musain. This place is like quicksand.
She is just getting ready to decline, when she sees the look on Enjolras' face. He looks positively hopeful, and she has never seen him this interested in society issues before – and she has a brief moment of doubt. He will not go there alone, so she might have to arrange for someone to go with him. She wonders if Enjolras would be okay with just having Jehan and Ferre at his side.
"I'll go," she finds herself agreeing. "Enjolras and I will both go."
There is a beatific smile on Enjolras' face, and she knows that is why she agreed. He is just trying to make things better. He is just trying to make a difference.
She wonders if he was like this before, this passion for changing things and making it better. It must have been, because he would not have been named Man Protesting if he had quietly accepted everything in his path. Once again, she wonders about what he might have done to have been cursed so terribly. Did he fight for the wrong side? Did he hurt someone, or just hurt their feelings? Nothing that he has said reveals anything about the reason why.
The only thing that she does know is that his sister begged for mercy from his captors, whoever those people might have been. It is a sad thing to think of – and for a brief selfish moment, she wonders if anyone would plead for mercy on her behalf. The list of contenders is short to non-existent, and she coughs to get rid of the lump that has formed in her throat. It does not seem to work all that well.
"Do you have anything planned for this meeting?" she starts talking over her dark thoughts. "Are there speeches, protests, any definitive plans?"
Enjolras gives her a worried look, and she wonders what it is that makes him see right through her sometimes. She tries not to meet his gaze and instead looks at the other guys, waiting to see if they actually have an answer at this point.
"We're still finalizing the schedule," Combeferre skillfully avoids her questions.
Ah yes, that meeting should definitely prove interesting – she doubts that any actual plans will be made, but maybe it will be entertaining. And it will actually get Enjolras out of the house, which is enough of a bonus to her.
She really needs to think of something to do for him! But what is there to do in a town like this one?
AN: Yeah, I'm a dork. And I love making Enjolras really uncomfortable. Anyway, tell me your favorite lines/moments/parts …