A knock sounded on the door. Enjolras turned, wondering if Cosette had come back.
The door opened with caution and a head peeked in.
"Guillaume."
The last person Enjolras wanted to see. How long had the man been standing outside the dining room? He must have seen Cosette leave, must have heard her slam the door behind her. How much had he overheard?
"I do not pay you to spy, sir." Enjolras said through gritted teeth, the fight with Cosette leaving his nerves frayed. The man bowed, giving Enjolras a sheepish smile.
"Forgive me, monsieur, I did not mean to eavesdrop." He stepped into the room slowly.
Enjolras' fists clenched at his sides. He wasn't nearly in the mood for another conversation tonight.
"The party went well, don't you think?" Guillaume chuckled, the sound coming out strained.
"What do you want, Guillaume?"
In the back of his mind, a voice that sounded a lot like Cosette's reprimanded him: Guillaume helped plan this whole event. He did a wonderful job hosting and you know it, so stop treating him this way.
Enjolras shut his eyes, trying to rid himself of her voice.
Don't you understand, dear? All I know is how to push people away.
"Perhaps it's not my place to intervene…" Guillaume bit his lip. "But I want to assure you that I had no ulterior motives in dancing with your wife."
Enjolras stared at him and the memory of the ballroom flashed again, of Cosette beaming and twirling in someone else's arms.
"Why should I believe you?" He asked, still guarded.
Guillaume let out a dry laugh and shook his head.
"Because she loves one man alone." He looked pointedly at Enjolras.
"How do you know?"
"A woman in love is fairly easy to spot."
Enjolras took a step back, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Was it possible? That after all their time together as husband and wife, Cosette was still in love with Marius? According to Guillaume, everyone could see it. How had he not noticed?
Because I've been blinded by my own confusing mix of emotions for her, he realized.
And what exactly are those emotions, another voice demanded.
He slid a palm over his face, feeling a headache coming on as a wave of weariness washed over him.
"That's all I came to say, monsieur." Guillaume bowed his head. "I wish you a good and restful night."
He turned towards the door when Enjolras called after him.
"Thank you." He said quietly. "For everything."
Guillaume smiled and bowed his head once more.
"My pleasure, monsieur." He said, shutting the door behind him.
Leaving Enjolras alone with his thoughts.
I wasn't born this way
I've been living a lie they say
So when it brought me to my knees
Well, I had everything
So tell me would you please
How could I possibly have needed so much more
That night, the dream came to him like it usually did. He was walking the streets of Paris, trying to find the barricade, trying to find his friends. He could hear Graintaire's drunken laughter in the distance. Joly's nervous ramblings. Combeferre's soft-spoken philosophizing. Feuilly's pedantic mumbling. Feuilly, who had been the only true workingman among them...
Enjolras heard a giggle from behind a corner and his feet followed the sound.
He turned and saw Cosette, dressed in the beautiful, lavender gown she'd worn to the dinner party.
Heavens, he knew that dress would haunt him.
He tried to warn her of what was to come, urged her to run, to leave before the shots began to ring out as he knew they would soon.
But she simply laughed, placing a hand on his cheek.
The same hand began to slide down his neck, along his arm, sending shivers down his back.
"Cosette, you must leave!" He insisted. "This isn't a safe place."
"Don't be silly," she said in that lyrical tone. "You're here to protect me."
Then she leaned in, her eyelids fluttering closed as she pulled him closer.
He allowed himself to get pulled in when- BAM!
A shot rang out.
He stepped back, searching his body frantically for a gunshot wound, waiting for the pain to come.
"Enjolras..." Cosette's voice was terrified, trembling. He looked up and saw a blossom of red in the center of her dress. She lifted her quivering hand to the wound and he watched with sickening dread as the splotch of blood began to spread, seeping into the fabric of her gown. Lavender mixed with crimson. He rushed to her side, catching her just as she collapsed.
"Cosette!" He watched as the light all too quickly faded from her eyes.
"No!" A voice shouted behind him. He turned and saw Marius, dressed in a tattered student's uniform, clutching a small handgun in his shaking hand. He lifted the gun and aimed it at Enjolras. "That bullet was meant for you!" Marius cried, tears creating streaks down his dirty cheeks.
"Marius, don't!" Enjolras lifted a hand in surrender, the other holding on tightly to Cosette's limp body.
"Traitor!" Marius yelled. "You led us all to the slaughter! And for what?" He gestured a hand to Cosette. "It wasn't enough to steal my future from me? You had to steal the love of my life too?"
Enjolras laid Cosette gently onto the ground and stood up slowly, palms up and facing Marius.
"That's not what I intended, my friend. You have to believe me."
Marius took another step closer, cocking his gun. "What was your intention then?"
"I was supposed to die with you!" Enjolras shouted angrily at Marius, at God Himself. A sob stuck in his throat.
"Allow me to grant your wish." Marius said, and fired.
Enjolras fell back, his shoulder on fire with searing pain. He spared a quick glance at where the bullet had sliced through.
Cosette lay lifeless beside him, the blood from her wound flowing out into the street.
"I'm so sorry, my love." He croaked, trying to reach for her hand, then wincing from pain. "I failed to protect you."
The blood continued to flow from the both of them, flooding the streets, rising higher and higher. He tried to get up, to crawl to Cosette, but the slightest movement caused so much pain he thought he might faint. The whole world was awash in red. He was drowning in blood.
Enjolras woke up in a cold sweat, chest heaving as he gasped for air.
His hand flew to his shoulder, feeling for a wound that wasn't there.
He threw his covers off and sat up, rubbing at his eyes.
I'm alive, I'm alive, he whispered, rocking back and forth.
He got out bed and walked to the window, resting his forehead on the cool glass, allowing the seeping cold to ground him in reality. He shut his eyes, focused on steadying his breathing and calming his pounding heart.
I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive…
Rain began to fall outside, drops hitting the window. Enjolras opened his eyes, watching as thick clouds gathered in the night sky, covering up the moon.
He thanked God above that the rain had waited to fall til after the party had ended.
His eyes caught sight of movement in the gardens below. A blonde head of hair bobbing between the bushes and trees. He placed a hand against the window and squinted. A girl, dressed in a pale nightgown, was wandering through the gardens. A ghost, perhaps? Was he still dreaming? He rubbed his eyes again and looked harder.
Recognition set in and he felt his stomach drop. He sprinted out the door.
By the time Enjolras made it to the gardens, the rain had become a downpour. He ran barefoot, past the rose bushes and into the orchard, dodging between trees like a madman, searching for that blonde head of hair.
"Cosette?" He shouted into the night, his voice drowned out by the loud pitter patter of rain.
There! A flash of white behind a peach tree. He ran.
"Cosette!"
She didn't turn at the sound of his voice, just continued stumbling aimlessly forward. He caught up to her easily.
"Cosette?" He stopped in front of her, taking a moment to catch his breath. But she looked right through him.
"I won't forget." She mumbled to herself, walking in circles. "I won't forget."
"Forget what?" He asked, grabbing hold of her arm. What was wrong with her? Why wouldn't she look at him? The rain had drenched her completely, her arm shivering in his grasp. "Cosette!" He shook her gently. She blinked a few times, then looked up at him. Her eyes widened as she took in her surroundings.
"Where am I?" Her voice was faint.
"You're home. In the gardens." He brushed away the wet strands of hair that had clung to her face. Her skin was like ice beneath his touch. "I think you were sleepwalking." He said gently.
She tilted her head, that far off look returning to her eyes. "Yes, I…I had another nightmare."
"One so bad it brought you out here?" He lifted a brow.
She looked down to where his hand had wrapped around her arm, blinking in confusion.
"Come, let's get you inside." He started to pull her toward the house.
"No." She said, planting her feet firmly into the gravel.
"What do you mean, no? Cosette, it's pouring."
"I won't go inside until you tell me."
He frowned. "Tell you what?"
"How you feel."
"Feel about what?" Enjolras questioned, feeling frustration rise. She was going to catch her death out here.
"Me!" She wrenched her arm free.
"Cosette, please. We can continue this conversation indoors where it's warm and dry."
"No! You are the most confusing man I have ever met!" She accused, hugging her shivering frame as rain continued to drench her and the wind began to howl. "One day you speak to me and treat me with kindness. The other, it's as if I no longer exist. I cannot take anymore."
"You said you preferred me indifferent." He said woodenly, his pride still smarting from their earlier argument.
"Yes! At least then I'd know what to expect from you! You rebuff me, then you compliment me and look at me like I'm the sun itself. Then you ignore me once more!"
"That's because…" He ran a desperate hand through his sodden hair. The words he wanted to say stayed stuck in his throat, the rain beating down on both of them. "Good heavens. We're in the middle of a storm, woman!"
"I cannot live on false hopes." She continued. "I cannot keep raising them only to be crushed again and again. Enjolras, you must tell me, please."
"Tell you what?" He had grabbed onto her arm again, trying to pull her towards the manor.
"Stop! Listen to me!" She demanded. "I must know right now if you could ever love me."
His throat constricted.
Haven't you had enough of war? Give up the fight. Give in.
He stared at her soaked, shuddering form, feeling something break within him.
God, he loved her. The revelation took the breath from his lungs.
And all the reasons rushed at him, freed from some hidden place deep within.
He loved her singing and humming. How the sound of her voice felt like home.
He loved the callouses on her work-roughened hands, even the dirt beneath her fingernails and the stains on her gardening apron.
He loved every single flower and plant she'd coaxed to life in this previously dead garden.
He loved her fiery, stubborn spirit. How she gave as good as she got.
He loved the wisps of hair that always managed to escape her bun.
He loved the gentleness in her touch. Envied her resilience and courage to be vulnerable.
He loved the way she pursed her lips when editing his writing. Loved the scribbled handwriting she left in the margins of his papers.
He loved the evidence of her in every room of the house.
He loved that she made everything more beautiful around her.
God, he even loved the stupid cat she'd adopted.
Dare he say? Dare he hope she could love him in return?
Enjolras opened his mouth but before any words could come out, her eyes rolled into her head and her body went limp.
He stepped forward just as she fainted and caught her in his arms.
"Cosette?" For a moment, he thought he was back in his dream, his eyes frantically searching her body for spots of red.
No wound. No gunshot, he reminded himself. He touched his fingers to the soft spot beneath her jaw, feeling for a pulse. There. The fluttering of her heartbeat. Faint but steady.
Scooping her up as easily as if she were a feather, he rushed her back to the manor, his heart racing.
"Alphonse!" He called as soon as he was inside. "Call for the physician!"
