Les Mis at the Oscars, I literally cannot deal with this. I'm dead. Samantha just looked so GORGEOUS in that blue dress that they should make up a new word that combines sexy/stunning/adorable/talented/goddess all into one. Whoops I just did: Sexunningabletealentess. Look it up, there's a picture of Sammy B as the definition. I guess perfect would work too...
Thank you for your continued support! It really means a lot to me!
Nina: Actually, I did put a warning at the top of the chapter. I apologize if that was a little intense, but this is an intense story, so if you're not into that don't read. I won't take it personally.
Disclaimer: I cried/screamed/died when Samantha came out looking all kinds of hot. She's so stunning I just can't..
AND DID YOU SEE A WILD RAMIN APPEAR BEHIND HUGH AT ONE POINT? BECAUSE I DID!
Warning: Heavy A/G, fangirls beware ;)
The following evening...
"Damnit!" Azelma cursed, sucking the tip of her now bleeding thumb, "I give up! There's not a single finger I haven't pricked." She threw the stitching aside, balling her throbbing hands into fists.
"You don't have a choice," Eponine said, picking the fabric from the ground and giving it back to Azelma, "You best learn before you're fired. We need the money."
"I'm dreadful at this," Azelma said, "I'm so slow, I had to bring work home, and even anything I manage to finish is awful." Eponine rolled her eyes.
"Then get better," She said.
"I can't!" Azelma said, throwing aside her work again, "It's hopeless!"
"Then you had better find another job!" Eponine exclaimed, beginning to get fed up with Azelma, "I'm exhausted, but there are a million things to do, and I have to deal with our brothers, and Enjolras, the least you can do is maintain a job!" Azelma crossed her arms and slumped further into the couch. Eponine threw up her hands and turned away from her.
"Boys, time for bed," Miraculously, all three complied, standing up and walking toward the bedroom without complaint. Eponine stopped in the doorway to glance at Azelma, who was now rubbing her eyes.
"Azelma," Eponine said in a kinder tone, "Take a walk, then come back and finish." Azlema didn't move as the door closed behind Eponine, she couldn't imagine what going for a walk would help at all. However, she had nothing better to do, and she did not want to make another attempt at the stitching. Sighing, Azelma grabbed her shawl and exited the flat. She hadn't any idea where she was headed, and she didn't particularly care.
XXXXXXXX
"Azelma?" Marius asked in disbelief.
"What?" Azelma said, snapping from her thoughts, "Oh, hello Marius."
"What brings you here?" Marius asked, his usual warm smile gracing his features. Azelma had never much like Marius, he was far too happy. His positivity was taken too far, and he came across as very naïve.
"Just wandering," Azelma looked around, realizing she had walked to the cafe without even realizing it. She had only come here a handful of times before, looking for Eponine or Gavroche. She had never been inside, but right now it seemed a pleasant idea.
"Well, the meeting just finished," Marius said, "I was just going home, would you like me to escort you back to Enjolras'?"
"No thank you," Azelma said, "I think I'll stay."
"Are you sure?" Marius asked, "It's very late, the streets aren't a particularly safe place for a young lady to be on her own." Azelma almost laughed, she knew more than anyone how dangerous the streets of Paris were at night.
"Yes, I'm sure," Azelma said.
"Alright then," Marius said, tipping his hat, "Goodnight, Azelma."
Azelma watched him go, pulling his coat around himself tightly to keep out the December chill. She simply didn't understand the appeal that Eponine undoubtedly saw in him. There was nothing extraordinary about him at all. How on earth he managed to get not only Eponine, who was the strongest person Azelma knew, but also the lark, who one couldn't deny was beautiful, to swoon for him was beyond her. Azelma stood in the cold, jumping lightly from one foot to the other. She had too options, enter the cafe despite their being a high chance that Grantaire was present, or walk back home. And she was very, very cold. Damn it all, Azelma entered the cafe to see a handful of the boys remaining, made up of Enjolras, Joly, Combeferre, Feuilly, and - of course - Grantaire.
"Hello Azelma," Joly greeted. The evening seemed to be winding down; all the students - minus Grantaire - were packing up their bags and exchanging farewells.
"Hello, Joly," Azelma answered.
"What brings you here?" He asked.
"Nothing in particular," Azelma said, shrugging her thin shoulders, "Simply taking a walk."
"Azelma," Enjolras said, coming up behind Joly, "Have you any idea where Eponine hid my philosophy books?"
"It depends," Azelma said, smirking slightly, "Did you do as she asked?"
"Yes," Enjolras said, rolling his eyes, "But she was at work when I returned and I haven't seen her."
"They're in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom," Azelma said, "The key is atop the doorframe." Murmuring a word of thanks, Enjolras exited the cafe, followed by Joly. Feuilly passed her with a nod and a smile, but Combeferre found the desire to stop and talk to her.
"Hello Azelma," Combeferre said, "Mind if I ask you something?"
"Can it wait?" Azelma asked, "I'm tired."
"I'll be quick," Combeferre said, "Just tell Eponine that if she ever want to come to our meetings again, I'll save her a seat." Azelma fought the urge to roll her eyes.
Of course, always about 'Ponine, She thought.
"Look, Combeferre," Azelma said, "Just tell her yourself, I really don't care enough to relay silly messages to her."
"Alright," Combeferre said, "Maybe I will." With that he exited the cafe.
Finally I'm alone, Azelma said. Well, minus the bartender, a gruff man by the name of Victor. Azelma sat at the bar, chin in her hand.
"I'll take a brandy," Azelma said, sounding as if drinking alone at her age was a regular occurrence. Victor looked at her warily.
"How old are you?" Victor asked.
"Old enough," Azelma said, leaning forward and giving him a peek at her bust. Victor shrugged and placed a glass in front of her. Azelma took a small sip, it tasted disgusting.
"Three sous," Victor said. Azelma reached towards the pocket of her dress, only to have her hand snatched by an all too familiar young man. So maybe she wasn't as alone as she thought.
"Allow me Mademoiselle," Grantaire sad smugly, seemingly ignorant to Azelma's glare. Grantaire paced from francs on the table, "For the lady, and I'll take one myself."
"I can pay for myself, thank you," Azelma said, reaching towards her skirt. Once again her hand was stopped by Grantaire's surprisingly quick fingers.
"Now, now, pet," Grantaire whispered in her ear, Azelma resisted the urge to shudder, "You won't wound my pride as to not accept a drink, it would be inhumane!"
"I would hardly call you human," Azelma said smoothly, pulling her hand from his grasp. Grantaire held his hand over his chest in mock offense.
"Now my dear, that seems a tad cruel doesn't it?" Grantaire asked, "That hurt, it truly did."
"I'm surprised that with all the alcohol you consume that you're able to feel anything," Azelma said. She stood up, a notice nailed to the wall attracting her attention. Azelma read it slowly - she wasn't the best reader - before tearing it down, folding it up and putting it in her pocket.
"May I escort you home?" Grantaire asked as he slid in front of her, blocking her passage to the doorway.
"No," Azelma said, pushing past him onto the streets of Paris.
"Come now," Grantaire said, jogging to keep up with her brisk pace, "You can't possibly expect me to allow you to walk home alone, at this hour, can I?"
"Yes!" Azelma said, "I lived on the streets for eight years! Why is it that because we dress differently, all you schoolboys seem to think 'Ponine and I need an escort everywhere we go!?"
"In my defense," Grantaire said, standing quite close proximity, "I did not know you before, so I haven't anything to compare her to."
"Oh, and who, pray tell, is this mysterious woman?" Azelma bit sarcastically.
"She," Grantaire said, stepping ever closer, "Is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen." Azelma actually laughed out loud, looking at him in disbelief.
"Is she?" Azelma scoffed, "Surely you're imaging my sister, Eponine. Dark hair and eyes, and a figure to make the angels green?"
"No," Grantaire said, brushing a thin strand of hair from Azelma's face, "She has blonde hair, and these lovely green eyes. She is witty, and never one to back away from an argument. Her name is not Eponine."
"She must be unintelligent," Azelma said quickly, desperately trying to keep his mouth busy.
"She is the smartest person I've ever met," Grantaire said. He leaned in as if to kiss her, but Azelma stepped back,
"Surely she is plain," Azelma said.
"She is beautiful," Grantaire replied.
"She is a whore," Azelma admitted, dropping her gaze, "No one could ever think of her as anything but a useless gamin, without even her decency to offer."
"Azelma," Grantaire said softly, stroking her cheek. Azelma actually looked up, it was the first time he had actually called her by her proper name. Looking at him now, Azelma realized that he was being serious this entire time. All the wonderful things he had said, he had truly meant. It felt wonderful to have someone think of her that way. She didn't pull back as he leaned forward, but rather closed her eyes, meeting his kiss.
Despite being a drunkard, he was a remarkably good kisser. Azelma entangled her long fingers in his hair, wrapping her arms around his neck. Grantaire rested his hands on her back, pulling her closer and deepening their kiss. Suddenly Azelma pulled back, completely removing herself from his embrace, a wicked grin on her face.
"This has been fun," Azelma said, holding up the wallet she had taken from Grantaire's pocket, "We should do it again sometime." Azelma turned on her heel and walked away, swaying her hips as she did so. She left him in the cold, slightly dazed and his trousers uncomfortably tight.
"That little minx," Grantaire muttered, smirking after her. He turned heel and walked towards his flat, hoping there was some absinthe in the liquor cabinet in his home, as he now had no money to buy any.
Azelma stooped a short ways down the road, looking back at him. He was just turning the corner, barely distinguishable in the dark. It was getting late; it must have been around midnight. Eponine would not be pleased. Azelma touched her lips; she could still feel the tingling he left behind. Azelma smiled; a genuine, albeit small, smile that, if she had not been alone, a companion might have taken note of a small flicker of light arising in her green orbs. They still lacked the shine of her youth, but it was a new beginning, a small spark of a fire long since thought to have burnt out. Azelma drew her hand gently over her hip. Yes, she had definitely enjoyed that much more than she would ever care to admit.
Her taste of contentment was soured quickly, as a rough hand grabbed her arm, yanking her around. Azelma's heart leaped her throat at the shock of someone creeping upon her, and nearly stopped beating when she discovered the identity of her attacker.
"Ello, 'Zelma," Montparnasse sneered, his face inches from hers.
"What do you want?" Azelma said, trying her best to hide the quiver of fear from her voice. Montparnasse took note of this and inwardly rewarded himself,
"Who's the boy?" Montparnasse said, nodding after Grantaire, "You certainly seemed friendly with him, care to tell me his name?"
"Go to hell," Azelma spat, attempting to pull her arm from his grasp. Montparnase clicked his tongue,
"Tut tut 'Zelma," He said, tightening his grip on her and watching in satisfaction as she winced in pain, "Yeh must learn some manners, yer far to fresh."
"What do you want?" Azelma repeated her earlier question.
"I already told yeh," Montparnasse growled savagely, shaking her arm, "I want 'Ponine, and since yeh didn't pass along my lil' message, I'll 'ave to give yeh one that 'Ponine can't help bu' see." Azelma's eyes widened in fear as his grip on her arm tightened like a vise, threatening to snap the bone, as his other hand reached for her mouth to silence the scream mere moments after she let it out.
Haha, the dreaded cliffhanger! I am truly evil sometimes. Things to look out for next time: some major progress in the Eponine/Enjolras relationship, the outcome of Azelma's passionate actions with Grantaire, and the aftermath and extent of the damage inflicted upon 'Zelma by Montparnasse. Can you spell A-N-G-S-T?