The very next day after her encounter with her father, Éponine was kicked out of her apartment for failing to pay the rent in full. The landlord had kept the four francs and tossed her outside in the cold anyway. For about an hour or two after she was turned out, she wandered about aimlessly. Then, deciding that no good would come from losing hope, she went in search of a new job. Unfortunately for her, every shop and café turned her away the moment they caught sight of her. It seemed no one wanted to hire a gutter rat and, that night, she slept under the Pont Neuf, right next to the Seine. It was bitterly cold, but at the very least it was shelter from the snow which had begun to fall.
She didn't have a coat. Only a hat, a holey and dirt-stained shirt, a skirt that was too big with an old belt to hold it up, and her boots. She wore her mahogany hair down in hopes that it would at least keep her ears and neck warm. She curled up on the cold concrete and closed her eyes, but her own shivering kept her awake most of the night. At some point, she must have fallen asleep because she dreamed about falling down, down, down...
When she awoke, it was to the sound of church bells ringing and carolers singing. Slowly sitting up, Éponine found that she ached all over. She couldn't recall ever having a worse Christmas. Then her eyes widened as she recalled that Marius had said he would visit her in her apartment on Christmas Day, and she wouldn't be there. She had no idea what time it was, but it must have been early still as the sun hadn't fully risen.
Getting to her feet, she started in the direction of her former apartment. If she was lucky, she could meet him outside the building and come up with some excuse as for why they couldn't go inside. She walked quickly, trying to warm herself. She couldn't stop shivering and it felt hard to move, but she pushed on. When she arrived at the building, she sat down on a bench that was just outside and waited. She had started to fall asleep again when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and there stood a frowning Marius, holding a package. He set it down and took her hands in his own.
"'Ponine, you're freezing! How long have you been sitting out here?"
"Mm, probably only an hour. My neighbours are being really loud," she lied. "Can we—"
"What happened to your face?"
"Huh?"
"There's a bruise. Did... Did someone hit you?"
"Oh, it was just—"
"We'll talk about that in a moment," he said quickly. "Let's get you out of the cold."
She shakily stood. "Not my apartment though. The neighbours are fighting; I'd rather go somewhere else."
"Then we'll go somewhere else. But first, I'd like you to open this." He handed her the package.
A smile tugged at her lips. "I thought we said no gifts." But she started to open it anyway. Inside was a long, brown trench coat. Her jaw dropped open. "It... It's perfect! Just what I needed, actually. Oh, Marius... Thank you!"
Marius smiled softly. "Please put it on. You're shivering."
She didn't need telling twice and quickly wrapped the coat around herself. "It's so warm," she murmured. This would certainly make being homeless a bit easier or at least a bit warmer.
"It looks great on you," he told her. She smiled and took his arm. "Where shall we go?" He asked her.
"Mm... The Musain?"
"The Musain, it is. By the way, Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Marius."
...
The Musain was fairly empty with it being Christmas Day. Éponine liked when the café was on the emptier side. It allowed for more intimate conversations, without having to speak over other customers. Marius and Éponine found a table towards the back of the café and sat down.
"I'm buying you some soup," Marius told her. "No, don't argue. You can't stop me." And before she could protest, he flagged down one of the waitresses and ordered some soup and some tea.
"You didn't have to do that," Éponine murmured, "but thank you."
"Anytime," he replied with a smile. "So, how's the job going? You're working at a dress shop, right?"
"Right. It's going great," she said without meeting his eyes. "The other girls who work there are really nice. One of them even gave me a book of sewing patterns. It was dead useful."
"Was?"
"Well, I'm a lot better now so I don't need it as much."
Marius studied her for a moment. He took in her unkempt hair and blue-tinged lips, as well as the tiredness in her large eyes. He took her hands, which were still rather cold. "Are you sure everything is going okay? You look somewhat unwell."
"Oh, I think I might be catching a cold," she said, waving it off. "It's nothing, really. Don't worry about me. Honestly, I'm doing much better than I was with my parents."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it! Ah, look: here's the soup."
The waitress set down her tray, and placed two bowls of soup and two cups of tea in front of them. Marius thanked her and she left. Éponine pulled her bowl of soup towards her and forced herself to eat it slowly, despite how ravenously hungry she felt.
"Oh God, that's good," she murmured. Marius didn't eat, but merely watched her. When she finished her bowl, he pushed his towards her. Seeing that she was about to protest, he told her:
"No, really, go ahead. I've already eaten."
Normally, she would have objected, but she was too hungry to bother and immediately started on the second bowl. In truth, Marius was worried about her. She was thinner, paler, and he wasn't entirely sure he believed her when she said everything was fine. There was also the matter of the bruise.
"So what happened with...?" He gestured towards the bruise over her left eye.
"Got into a bit of an argument with some drunkard," she said dismissively. "It's nothing. It'll heal."
"If you're sure..." But still, he wasn't really sure he believed her. At the same time though, he wasn't really sure how to help her when she seemed intent on not accepting anyone's help. How could he help someone who didn't want to be helped? Still, he felt responsible for her in a way. He knew that there were very few people who truly cared about her, and even fewer who could actually afford to help her out. He worried that living in such abject poverty would eventually lead to her falling ill, and if she couldn't afford decent medical care then it was very possible that she could die.
"What're you thinking about, Monsieur Marius?" She asked him.
"You," he admitted unabashedly.
Éponine felt her cheeks redden. "Me?"
"I'm worried about you. I'm worried you're not telling me the whole truth about... Well, I don't really know. Are you sure everything is okay?"
And for a moment, she considered telling him everything. Only for a moment though and then that moment had passed. She couldn't tell him. She would get through this on her own. She would at least try, anyway. If Marius found out that she was with child—his child—she felt certain that he would cease to function. It would break him, especially with his ideas of ideal love and family. No, she would keep this to herself. He would find out in time about the child, especially since she would eventually start to look pregnant. But, she told herself, that's only if you're actually pregnant. You might be wrong about this. Anyway, now was not the time for this discussion.
"Really, I'm fine," she told him. "You worry too much."
"With good reason."
"Maybe," she replied, "but still too much, all the same."
"Just know that you can always turn to me, should you need someone to turn to."
"I know that, Marius."
"Then please make use of it. Make use of me; let me help you, my friend."
She smiled a smile that didn't quite touch her eyes. "I'm trying to be independent, Marius."
"You've had to be independent for most of your life. It's okay to rely on other people."
"For you, maybe. Things are different for people like me."
"I don't see why they have to be."
"No, you wouldn't," she murmured. "You really wouldn't. Look, just have some faith in me, okay? I know my way around."
"I do have faith in you," he told her earnestly, "but I also worry. I can tell you're not getting enough to eat."
"I get enough to survive. That's enough for me."
"'Ponine..."
"Marius. Really, trust me. I'll be all right."