I KNOW IT HAS BEEN FOREVER BUT THIS IS A LOOOOONNNGGG ASS CHAPTER AND I WORKED SO HARD ON IT DON'T TOUCH ME I HAVE FRIENDS!
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SOooooo... It was brought to my attention that a review was made on this story from my account *Cue people checking if they didn't already know* after thinking over how to react to this, I find myself laughing at the bizarreness of it all. No, I did not comment on my own story. That would be so strange. My guess, it was a cousin being cheeky and decided to comment on my story on my laptop, and didn't log out first. If I ever find out who you are, I will kill you. And if there is a way to delete it (I have not figured out how) Please let me know!
I don't own les mis, R&R, Enjoy!
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December 21st; 4 days 'till Christmas...
"Eponine!" Enjolras called out his bedroom door.
"What!?" Her answer came from somewhere in the flat.
"Can you come here a moment?" Enjolras replied, "I'm in need of your assistance."
"Do it yourself," Eponine called, "I'm busy!" Enjolras rolled his eyes and groaned,
"Nothing would please me more!" He called back, "But sadly this is a predicament only you can solve." After a moment he heard movement in the hall and Eponine appeared round his doorframe, in all her flyaway elegance.
"What?" She leaned against the doorframe nonchalantly; utterly obvious that she was anything but bourgeois.
"Where did you put my cravat? He asked her taking off his shirt and again divulging into the drawers of his bureau in search of the damn thing.
"Which one?" Eponine asked, her eyes taking in the defined muscles of his torso. Enjolras rolled his eyes at her chutzpah (Her dark gaze did not make him the slightest bit uncomfortable, thank you very much)
"My black one," Enjolras said, "I know you moved it, it's not where I left it."
"Contrary to what you may or may not believe," Eponine said, blowing stray waves from her face, "I have no knowledge of such an item. You must have lost it."
"I never lost it," Enjolras insisted, "And I need it, so if you would be so kind, give it back."
"I already told you," Eponine said, "I never touched it. I have more important things to do than listen to you complain." Eponine turned to leave and Enjolras, in a moment he later insisted was pure insanity, leapt forward and grabbed her arm to halt her.
"Just give it to me Thenardier," He groaned, fed up with her ridiculous antics, "And stop being so damn stubborn all the time." Eponine gave him a glare that would make a lesser man weep,
"I didn't touch it." Eponine snapped. She shrugged him off, "Keep track of your own damn clothes, and have a drink; you need to loosen up."
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Later that Day, Enjolras' Bedroom...
"Ahh, my dear friend," Grantiare threw an arm around Enjolras' shoulders, "As per usual, our lovely Eponine is correct. However her methods are wrong."
"What are you on about?" Enjolras removed Grantaire's arm and smoothed down his shirt.
"You need not the help of liquid courage, but the needs of the flesh," Enjolras gave him a blank look, "Maiden of carnal pleasure?" Grantiare tried, still nothing. He rolled his eyes, "Sex mate, you need to bed a woman." Realization dawned of Enjolras, as he gave Grantaire a glare.
"I'm serious," Grantaire held up his hands in defense, "When was the last time, in all seriousness? You haven't been with a woman since before they moved in to your flat! That's nearly two months, it's a long time Enjolras."
"I can't argue with you, but there is nothing I can do," Enjolras tidied up the notes Grantiare had strewn on his desk while the said drunk made himself comfortable looking through the bookshelf against the wall in Enjolras' bedroom, "I cannot bring a girl home with the children, it wouldn't be proper."
"Rent a room at the cafe for the night," Grantiare replied, "Treat yourself to a bit of a Christmas gift."
Enjolras didn't reply. As much as he hated to admit it, Grantaire was a little right. It had been a long time, he was human after all. He had needs.
But in the typical fashion Grantiare was also wrong. What he didn't see was that everything had just been particularly stressful and frustrating lately. And it was all because of Eponine.
That's right, someway, this was all her fault. Somehow.
"Wait," Grantiare pulled Enjolras from his inner musings, "What is this?" In his hand he held Eponine's robe, looking at it as if it has three heads.
Damn that woman! Can she not put away her belongings like any normal person?
"Umm, It's a robe," Enjolras replied lamely.
"Yes, I realize that," Grantiare said sarcastically, "But whose is it? Certainly not yours."
"Umm," Enjolras had no reply, a first for him.
"It's Eponine's isn't it?" Enjolras' red face gave him his answer, "Lord Almighty! Are you an she-"
"NO!" Enjolras found his voice, "No, we've never, done any of that." This was the single most embarrassing moment of his entire life, "I just, I couldn't let her sleep on the couch."
"Good Lord," Grantiare said, throwing the garment on the bed, "This is worse than I thought, You aren't in a dry spell mate, you're a god damn married man!"
"What!" Enjolras said, "You're senile, we are NOT together, in any sense of the word."
"You live with her, and her family," Grantaire said, "Hell you even sleep in the same bed. You've got yourself a wife, without the advantages."
"Advantages?" Enjolras exclaimed, "She's a person, and our friend."
"Oh please," Grantaire said, "I fancy Azelma, but Eponine's has in her possession the looks of a vixen. You're fooling yourself if you think otherwise."
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Later that Evening, The Cafe Musain...
"Don't listen to him," Musichetta assured Enjolras, "Grantaire's a moron."
"Oh come," Grantiare said, "You've seen the way they bicker, they act like they've been married for a decade."
"Their just very stubborn friends," Musichetta said, "Stop putting thoughts in his head."
"This is all utterly confusing," Enjolras said.
"This is utterly bizarre," Azelma rolled her eyes, fed up with their misogynistic measuring competition "Forgive me; I don't care to hear this sort of conversation about my sister."
"Fair enough," Muschetta said, "We'll drop it for now boys, but do not be mistaken, We will continue this later." She lifted the bar, making her way to the table where Joly and Bossuet sat to serve them their food. They invited her to join them and she complied. It was a slow evening, Azelma could handle the bar.
"Do all of you schoolboys lust after Eponine?" Azelma asked, "Or is it only you and 'Ferre?"
"I do not lust after Eponine," Enjolras insisted, "You exaggerating greatly."
"Exaggerating?" Azelma said, leaning forward on the counter with a mischievous smirk, "I was jesting, is there something that I can exaggerate?"
"Yes Enjolras," Grantiare felt the need to add to his friend's embarrassment, of course, "Something you wish to tell us?"
"Go to hell, both of you," Enjolras growled to their laughs, "You deserve each other." In response, Grantiare leaned over the bar to peck Azelma on the cheek. Even more surprising, Azelma allowed it.
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December 22nd, 3 days 'till Christmas, evening
"Gavroche, if I have to tell you once more to pick up that book, I will slap you round the head with it."
"Oy! No need to be bossy 'Ponine" Gavroche said indignantly, adjusting his cap and picking up his discarded book, "It's not my fault this book's as borin' as sin!"
"I don't care how boring it is," Eponine said, "You will read it, you need to learn how to read." Grumbling, Gavroche ran a hand threw his mopish brown hair and returned reluctantly to his task.
"Now hold still Pierre," Eponine said. She finished cutting a few more strands of Pierre's blonde locks before brushing off his shoulders and helping him down from the counter. That morning Eponine had taken one look at the boys and decided that she couldn't stand how long their hair had become for another moment. Nicolas's and Pierre's newly cut hair was slightly uneven in the back, but you could hardly notice. It was certainly an improvement over how they had looked before.
"Gavroche," Eponine called, "Your turn." Gavroche entered Enjolras' kitchen (Which really only consisted of him taking two steps from the sofa) holding tightly to his ratty cap.
"I really don' think this is necessary 'Ponine" He said, "Maybe we should do this another time."
"Nice try," Eponine said, eyebrow raised in amusement, "You're getting a haircut."
Grumbling darkly, Gavroche climbed onto the counter and allowed his knotted curls to be, somewhat messily, chopped off.
"I like my haircut," Pierre remarked, rubbing a hand over his head.
"Of course you do," Azelma laughed from the couch, "You're the good one."
"What about me?" Nicolas removed his attention from the book Azelma had open for him and twisted around in her lap, "Am I a good one too?"
"Yes pet," Azelma said, "You're the little one, now what is this letter here?"
This familial scene that Enjolras arrived home to only added to his uneasiness about Grantaire's earlier remarks.
"Look Enjy," Nicolas said, ("Enjy?!" Azelma exclaimed gleefully) "We got haircuts!"
"I can see that" Enjolras replied, cringing at the use of his hated nickname, even worse, Azelma had heard it, "But they aren't quite straight are they?" Enjolras grinned pointedly at Eponine, who took a moment before realizing that he was jesting.
That's correct, Enjolras had made a satirical comment. And the world was not about to spontaneously combust.
"Shove it," Eponine replied, "I'm not a barber; they look fine."
"I have brought with me a message from Victor regarding the party my schoolmates insist on throwing," Enjolras said, setting his bag down at the table, "All the plans you ladies have made with the les amis are accounted for, except Graintaire's expectations as to how much alcohol will be consumed at the party will have to be greatly decreased."
"Well we knew that anyway," Eponine nodded approvingly, biting her lip as she concentrated on Gavroche's haircut.
"Yes but he does not," Enjolras said, "Someone will have to tell him."
There was a beat of silence, then-
"Azelma?"
XXXXXXXX
December 24th, Christmas Eve. Midday
"I'm hungry 'Ponine," Pierre whined, "I don't want to wear this shirt, it's itchy."
"We are going to a party," Eponine smoothed out his shirt and began on his hair, "There will be food, and dammit if you don't look presentable for at least the beginning of the evening."
"They look lovely Eponine," Yvonne adjusted Nicolas' necktie, "These boys may just be the most handsome little men I have ever seen." Pierre chest swelled at being called a man; he held still long enough for Eponine to fret over him before she was satisfied.
"Alright, you are ready," Eponine said as Pierre dashed out of the bathroom, "GAV! You had better still be clean or I will leave you behind." She yelled out the door.
"Is that what you are wearing dear?" Yvonne asked, eyeing Eponine's simple dress.
"I bought new clothes for the boys," Eponine shrugged," Azelma and I are fine." Eponine turned to find both Yvonne and Annette standing with identical grins across their features.
"What?" Eponine asked, "Have I got a mark on my face?"
"We have something for you," Annette said, "Both of you."
"For who?" Azelma asked, entering from the living room. (The small bathroom was now becoming quite crowded.)
"Go into the bedroom," Annette practically pushed them down the hall, skipping with giddiness.
"What have you been drinking?" Eponine asked
"Oh just go in," Annette unceremoniously shoved them through the door in her haste.
Both sister were speechless for a moment with a sight that greeted them; a great feat for anyone, much less the sweetly passive Annette.
"Oh my," Azelma breathed.
"We cannot accept this," Eponine said immediately; however she couldn't help but run her hand over the smooth fabric.
Carefully laid out on the bed were the two most beautiful gowns the sisters had ever seen. One green and one red to match the festivities of the season, they were tastefully embellished without being gaudy. Even the two, who would usually feel uncomfortable in anything remotely fine, were itching to lift the fabric over their heads and try them on.
"Put them on," Annette handed the red one to Eponine and the green to Azelma, "Make sure they fit."
"There is no way," Azelma held out the dark green garment, "This is too much, take them back."
"Absolutely not," Yvonne said, "They're a gift, and it would be rude to refuse a gift."
"Luckily we've never been known for our manners," Eponine held out her dress in imitation of her sister, "We cannot take these."
"They are already paid for," Annette said, "They are a Christmas gift."
"No," Eponine insisted, "These are far too expensive."
"Just wear the damn dress!" Annette yelled, her rosy cheeked darkening. Eponine and Azelma stared at her in shock; Annette was never one to raise her voice.
"Well.." Azelma looked at Eponine.
"I suppose it would be rude to refuse," Eponine said.
"Hurrah!" Annette cried hurrying Eponine to sit on the bed, "We have to hurry if we want to do your hair."
"Wait," Eponine said, "Hair?"
XXXXXXXX
December 24th, Christmas Eve. Early Evening, The Cafe Musain
"Relax Enjolras" Grantaire said, "Have a drink!"
"Are you already drunk Grantaire?" Enjolras asked.
"Not yet," Grantaire grinned, "I want to remember some of this night."
"Please," Enjolras rolled his eyes, "That's the least of your concerns- Grantaire?" but Enjolras' friend was no longer paying attention, he was staring at something behind Enjolras' head, with a dumbfounded expression plastered across his face, "What are you looking at?"
Enjolras turned round to discover what had Grantaire so enraptured.
When seeing her, Enjolras could not help but stare.
Red had always been his favorite color.
The exquisite creature was dressed in the most opulent gown Enjolras had ever seen. Never before had he seen red look as complimentary as on the woman, whose slender frame and generous curves were accentuated by the vivid material. Her dark tresses were pulled up into an elegant bun on the back of her head; lose tendrils artfully falling loose to frame her face.
And she was smiling, a full, brilliant smile that lit up her eyes and revealed a deep dimple in her left cheek; she lit up the room in a way that had Enjolras mesmerized, his mouth had fallen open and he was openly staring by the time her dark gaze meet his. She sent him a smile and a raised eyebrow, probably questioning why he was standing mouth agape like a buffoon. He swallowed heavily and nodded at her, turning away and pulling on his collar, the temperature suddenly seemed much higher than it was a moment ago.
"She's magnificent," Grantaire said aghast.
"She is," Enjolras said, but Grantaire wasn't looking at Eponine, he was looking at a figure behind her. In his trance, Enjolras had not even noticed Azelma wearing a gown of deep emerald green, which brought out her eyes. She was also smiling, which is a rare occurrence.
"You look odd," Grantaire said, "Have a drink." Enjolras, out of character, accepted the drink and took a swig, hoping it would calm his nerves.
Meanwhile, he watched as Combeferre greeted Eponine, raising her hand to his lips as he did.
Enjolras took another sip. This was going to be a long night.
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"You look amazing. Both of you," Annette held Pierre's hand as they neared the cafe, "Azelma, Grantaire's jaw is going to fall through the floor when he sees you." Azelma tossed some hair, which was only partially pulled back, over her shoulder.
"Well he'd better," Azelma said, "All the work we went through, the least he can do is look speechless."
"Now dear," Yvonne said, "Don't be prideful, it is unsatisfactory for a woman to be too prideful."
"It is unsatisfactory to men for women to be too prideful," Eponine corrected.
"Are we at the party yet Maman?" Nicolas jumped up and down from excitement.
"We're here pet," Yvonne held the door open for the boys, who ran in immediately in search of certain schoolboys known to spoil them rotten.
"Let's go!" Annette said, adjusting her light blue dress, the color was a lovely contrast with her brown hair, and brought out her bright blue eyes wonderfully.
"After you," Azelma waited for Eponine, "You look better than I do anyhow."
Before Eponine could disagree, her sister had waved her into the warmth of the lively cafe.
It was very crowded inside the cafe, Eponine smiled as a general greeting resounded (quite loudly) from the boisterous Les Amis. Eponine scanned the room searching for Marius, but her eyes locked with a familiar gaze instead.
Enjolras was looking at her with such unfamiliar intensity, it nearly floored her. His usually crystalline blue eyes had darkened to a smoldering navy as his eyes trailed over her form before locking with her own deep brown. Eponine internally shuddered, it was as if he could see right through her; through the dress and the hair and the smile to see the deep scars that ran in the parts of herself she kept most hidden, making her feel raw and exposed and embarrassed, all with a gaze.
His gaze had slightly thrown her off, but Eponine had a good sense of direction, and quickly got back on track. Giving him a smile and a raised eyebrow, she challenged his smolder with her smirk, and he predictably turned away with a nod, ears turning red, a telltale sign of his embarrassment.
Eponine greeted Cosette (Whom she had grown rather fond of, in spite of herself) and Musichetta with those odd cheek kisses that bourgeois do, and struck up a lively conversation with Jehan about poetry, which she had discovered she rather enjoyed.
"Eponine," Combeferre grasped her hand, raising it to his lips, "You look ravishing."
Slightly taken aback, Eponine's smile faltered for an instant before replying, "Thank you," she said, "You look rather nice yourself."
"Care for a drink?" Combeferre help one out to her, and Eponine excepted, grateful for the spirits to calm her nerves.
"I would like to talk," Combeferre ran a hand through his curly hair, "Care to take a walk."
"Well," Eponine scanned the crowd for her siblings. After finding each of the boys being spoiled rotten by the adults, and her sister chatting amicably with Yvonne and Musichetta, Eponine agreed, "I suppose, a short walk would be nice."
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"Annette darling," Grantaire raised the brunette's small hand to his lips in greeting, "You look ravishing."
"Thank you," Annette giggled, "Azelma sends her regards."
"She's being a tease," Grantaire said, his gaze shifting to the aforementioned blonde, who was currently sitting at the bar and pointedly avoiding his eyes, "She comes in here, wearing a dress like that, and she won't even say hello?" Grantaire scoffed, rolling up his sleeves (His waistcoat had been discarded long before), "If you will excuse me; Enjolras, do try to be cordial." Grantaire made his way over to his vixen, who met him smirk for smirk.
"You do look nice this evening," Enjolras raised Annette's hand to greet her himself. Heat rose in her cheeks and butterflies danced in her stomach as his lips made contact with her skin, and Annette bit her lip.
"Thank you," Annette smiled, "You look very handsome." Enjolras looked past her at something, and Annette turned to see Combeferre leading Eponine out to the courtyard.
"Where are they going?" Enjolras asked, more as a thought spoken aloud than as a direct question.
"Oh, you haven't heard Combeferre raving?" Annette laughed a tad awkwardly, "He fancies 'Ponine quite a bit, I do believe he plans on revealing his feelings to her tonight."
"Does Eponine return his affections?" Enjolras asked, surprising himself with his forward manner, perhaps he should slow down on the drinks, the evening was still young, after all.
Annette shrugged, "I'm not sure, Eponine is not one to talk about herself." Annette smiled slightly, as a child does when they have a secret, "But if you want my opinion, I believe she would be quite happy with him. Combeferre is lovely, after all."
"Yes..." Enjolras trailed off, he had a strange expression on his face. He felt odd, like something sickly was brewing in the pit of his stomach. It was an unfamiliar experience, and Enjolras found the whole thing unpleasant.
"Are you alright?" Annette asked as Enjolras took a drink, hoping to eliminate the feeling, "You look pale. Would you like to get some air? I believe there are some festivities happening at the avenue a block down, if you would like-"
"Yes, that sounds fine," Enjolras said, "You invite the others to come, I will fetch Eponine and Combeferre." Enjolras made his way to the back door, leaving a startled Annette in his wake.
Again, I am so sorry for the long ass time it took me to update.
Coming up in Chapter 10c, the final part of the epic three-part chapter *cue dramatic music*...
Shocking revelations, more than a few confrontations, and a very important morning after.
Until next time my dearies...