Révolution du Cœur – Beneath the Birch Tree

Operas, Enjolras had come to the conclusion, were nothing more than devices designed by women meant to torture the men in their lives into fancy dress clothes and states of anxiety while they twittered about like brightly plumed birds.

Or at least Madam Arielle did.

The woman had been banging in and out of his and Melodie's rooms for the past two days. She had nearly strangled him with a measuring tape and he'd been stuck with so many pins he was surprised he did have any scars. It was apparently an ordeal to refit Fabien's trousers, shirts, and coat to his more athletic build.

The worst part was that he felt terrible that he was once again imposing on the Charmant's hospitality. Whenever he attempted to apologize or recommend that they merely let him retrieve an old coat from his Musain apartment, she would glare at him and tell him to hush.

Thus he was left feeling disgruntled.

This was only compounded by the fact that he'd barely seen Melodie at all during the day. Except for mealtimes, she had sequestered herself in her room. When he had attempted to see her there on the first day she had shoved him out the door and slammed it in his face!

He hadn't attempted to talk to her the rest of the day, his pride stung so much.

She'd apologized at dinner and informed him that she was working on a surprise.

This brought to mind the book Arielle had acquired for him. He tried yesterday to draw Melodie from her room, but the desperate edge to her voice halted any further attempts on his part to pull her from her work. He had settled for the next best thing.

"Well move closer to the door if you won't come out!" He had shouted.

"Whatever for?" She had responded warily. Enjolras sighed and sat down cross legged. He leaned his forehead against the wood door and counted to five, trying to calm his nerves.

"That way I don't have to shout as much through the door, ange."

A heartbeat of silence and then he heard what sounded like a chair being drug across the room. When wood tapped wood, he breathed and sigh of relief.

They had spent the rest of the day speaking through the wood. When he finally saw her at supper, he couldn't help but keep touching her throughout the meal. Mere brushes of hands and his knee pressed against hers but still, enough to remind him that she was really with him.

Today though, he was determined to spend some true time together.

So when she had attempted to flee up the stairs after breakfast, he'd used his last resort.

He caught her around the waist and dragged her back against his chest. Before she could squawk in protest, he put his lips to her ear and brushed his thumbs along the side of her ribcage. She sucked in a breath and went still.

"Melodie I'm begging you. Please, just give me an hour of your time this morning." He whispered. He felt her melt back against him, even though her voice came out waspish.

"I'm trying to work on this surprise for you, you know."

He squeezed her tighter in response and breathed against her neck.

"Whatever it is your working on couldn't make me happier than your company could at this point." The words were the truth but he doubted she would consider them more than an attempt to distract her from her goal.

Melodie gave a low groan and spun around in his arms to face him. She openly glared at him but her hands came up to grip his waistcoat.

"You don't play fair Capitaine." She half-heartedly growled.

"Yes but is it working?" He asked as he raised an eyebrow. Melodie sighed and nodded.

"Very well, what shall we do for the hour?" She asked. There was still a mutinous gleam in her eyes, but Enjolras was finding out that an angry Melodies was a rather arousing sight. He could admit that to himself.

He drew her to his side and picked up his book from the floor.

"What we do best." He said as he led her out the door into the garden.

"Funny, I thought our talent lay in causing mass chaos and potentially criminal activities …" She muttered as the sunshine hit their eyes. Enjolras laughed and just handed her the book.

Melodie glanced at the title once and then did a double take. Her eyes searched his frantically and her mouth couldn't seem to form coherent words. Enjolras stood by watching, waiting, and praying she wouldn't slap him.

Or leave him.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Melodie felt the blush spreading from her cheeks up to her forehead and down to her chest. If she were to look at a mirror in that moment, she would have resembled some of Arielle's late summer roses.

The Erotic Poems by Ovid

Enjolras was either trying to embarrass her or cause her to catch fire.

Maybe both.

She swallowed hard and met his eyes. Her mind couldn't seem to communicate with her mouth. She struggled between fleeing deeper into the garden or to her room. But from somewhere deep inside, courage seemed to plant itself in her heart. She trusted Enjolras. Now she needed to trust herself.

She rolled her shoulders, opened the book, and began walking. Enjolras fell in step beside her and they slowly made their way down the garden path.

With each step, Melodie had to fight to keep her voice from wavering. Each word, fiery and succulent, combined into such a rich, seductive rhythm that she was left breathless with want. She could feel Enjolras's presence at her side, which only contributed to her current state.

She made it into Book 2 of The Amores and nearly came undone.

"But one glimpse of that sweet face and my violence evaporated:

My girl's best defence, as always, was herself.

I abandoned the strong-arm act, turned suppliant, begged her

For some equally juicy kisses. She laughed,

And complied with enthusiasm – the kind of sizzling

Performance –"

Enjolras pulled the book from her hand and threw it onto their bench. He was then tugging her off the garden path and into a bit of tree cover. He backed her into a birch and caged her with his arms. His eyes sought hers, stormy in their desperation.

"Stop me now Melodie. If you don't, I don't know if I'll be able to stop." His voice was a ragged whisper.

Melodie reached out and curled a fist into his coat lapel. She tilted her chin up so her lips were a breath away from his.

"Please …" She breathed. Enjolras groaned in response.

And then his lips were on hers.

Sweet, coaxing brushes of lips.

Fierce, demanding pressure.

When his tongue tentatively caressed the seam of her lips, she startled. His hand came down and gently brushed against her cheek, calm and reassuring. She let instinct take over and allowed him entrance. His tongue stroked at hers and she quickly found his rhythm. As her tongue began to battle his own, Enjolras released a deep moan.

Melodie felt a deep sense of power settle over her.

One of Enjolras's hands wound itself into her hair, dislodging the ribbon that held it in place, and the other seized her waist and brought her flush against him. Melodie could feel the hard rod of his flesh pressed against her middle and shivered.

Enjolras's mouth left hers and started nipping and kissing along her jaw and neck. Before she could process what was going on, his lips had reached her décolletage. Melodie whimpered as his tongue came out and swept across the tops of her breasts. Her hand sunk into his hair to hold his head in place. She could no longer think straight. If Enjolras were to lay her out on the ground and take her now, she wouldn't object.

Come to think of it, that's just what she wanted.

"Melodie, where are you? We have to leave for the last fitting immediately!" Arielle's frantic voice called out from somewhere near the house.

Damner tout à l'enfer.

Melodie gathered the last remaining dregs of her resolve and slipped herself out from under Enjolras's arms. He attempted to follow her, his eyes still clouded with lust. She had never seen him like this and the look of pure desire directed at her made her resolution falter.

"Melodie please!" Now Arielle's voice was desperate. It seemed to sink into Enjolras's subconscious and he pulled himself up short.

"One more moment." He bent and swept something off the ground. He then came and turned her so her back was to his front. Quicker than lightning, he had retied her hair back into its low tail. A quickly pressed kiss to her neck later and he was guiding her back out onto the path.

Before she could even say two words to him, Arielle had snatched her hand and was pulling her back into the house. As she turned to glance back at Enjolras, she couldn't help but notice the contemplation in his eyes. It darkened them and sent a shot of excitement down her spine.

She ignored Arielle's admonishments as they climbed into the carriage and turned her thoughts inward. She made a promise to herself.

If their majesties decided she and Enjolras would pay for the revolution with their lives, she would give herself to Enjolras before walking up the steps to the gallows.

Might as well die happy.