A/N: I like to call this chapter 'Extreme Makeover: Luca Edition,' but I just…couldn't find it in me to post it under that. We'll start to recognize our Jehan soon, I think.
"First things first, Prouvaire," Luca began. "You don't focus enough time on your art, and you dress too fashionably."
It had been roughly three days since that strange dinner at the Feuillys', and now Jehan was sitting in their parlor again, listening to Luca give him instructions on being an artist.
"I fail to see how that last one is a problem," Jehan said.
"Does your mother still pick out your clothes?" she demanded, ignoring him. "You need some flair, originality. You're too shy with your color choices."
"Have I ever told you you're ridiculous?" Jehan asked.
"Too many times for me to ever suspect that you've forgotten it," she replied cheekily.
"So I don't spend enough time writing poetry, and I dress too well. Forgive me, but I thought you said there were no rules to art."
"That's just something we say to lure innocent bourgeois like you in. Besides, I'm just teaching you my rules. What you end up doing will be totally up to you."
"I don't know if I believe you, but continue anyway. I know I can't stop you."
"He can be taught!" Luca cried. "Let's go see if Alexandre has anything interesting for you to wear."
"I hope you know I'm not wearing this," Jehan said as he looked down at the apparel Luca had chosen for him. She'd stolen his waistcoat and his cravat, replacing them with a hunter's jacket and a thick green scarf. "It's the middle of summer."
"Well, what will you wear?" she asked impatiently.
"My own clothes."
"They're boring!" she exclaimed.
"Well, I've always liked last century," Jehan offered.
This made her whole face light up. "Perfect!" she cried. "I know a place where you can get that. You brought your change purse, right?"
"Couldn't we have started with the poetry?"
"We could have, I suppose," she mused, suggesting something almost hopeful, "But we didn't, and now we're going shopping!"
Jehan's face fell a little bit, but there was really no stopping her. She pulled him through the streets of Montparnasse until they reached a tiny little tailor's shop.
"Monsieur," she addressed the tailor, "my friend here is looking for some more interesting clothes."
"Certainly," the tailor said. "What did you have in mind, Monsieur?"
"Leaving," Jehan muttered.
"He was thinking about some affects from the last century," Luca explained for him. "A doublet or something? What do you think, Prouvaire?"
"This little lady sure has her own way of addressing you, huh, Monsieur?" the tailor joked.
"I don't think I could make her stop if I wanted," Jehan told him.
"Ah," the little man sighed. "Young love in the making."
"W-wha…?" Jehan stuttered.
"She is not your beloved?"
"No, Monsieur! She's just this girl."
"Just this girl?" Luca demanded. "You told me you loved me, Prouvaire!"
"Do you get some kind of sick enjoyment from pretending that we're in love?" Jehan asked, half-joking.
"Yes," Luca replied with a smirk. "But we're getting off topic. A bright blue doublet, Monsieur."
"Not anything quite as dated as a doublet," Jehan insisted. "Maybe something similar…"
"And three white shirts with lacy cuffs," Luca added.
"Only three?" the tailor asked.
"You're right, four."
"Luca," Jehan muttered. "This is my money that you're spending."
Luca turned on him and her face fell. "Please?" she asked, looking crushed.
Jehan watched her for a minute, trying with all his might to refuse the look on her face. "Fine," he murmured.
Her face instantly lit up. "Yes!"
"You tricked me!"
Luca smiled and shook her head. "You're an only child, aren't you?"
"Yes. What's that got to do with anything?"
"Excuse me," the tailor interrupted, "but are we going through with this order?"
"Yes, Monsieur," Luca said.
"Then follow me, good Monsieur. We must have you fitted."
"Lacy cravats too!" Luca called as Jehan was led away. "You can't have lacy sleeves without lacy cravats!"
Jehan gave a blustering sigh. "She'll be the death of me."
The tailor only smiled.
After he was done being fitted, Jehan watched the tailor move over to his price book. So this would be the moment of judgment.
"Three lace cravats, three lace-cuffed shirts, two doublet-type waistcoats…That all adds up to…sixteen francs and three sous. Do we have a price, Monsieur?"
"Like I said, I don't have a choice."
"Brilliant. I'll send for the young lady next week!"
"Luca," Jehan began as they left, "have I ever told you that you're crazy?"
"You usually say 'ridiculous,' but I think the sentiment is the same."
"You're not going to kiss me again, are you?"
Luca laughed at Jehan's worried tone. It felt good, Jehan thought, to join her for once.
"You know," he said a little bit later, "I stay down here so much that sometimes, when I'm drunk or exhausted, I think about just moving in. Not into your apartment, obviously, but somewhere nearby."
"Sounds reasonable," said Luca, trying to hide a smile.
"Do you know of any place that's available right now?"
"I can ask around."
"Thank you, Luca." Jehan was grinning now too.
Just then, the bells of the closest church tolled six.
"Oh!" Jehan exclaimed. "I've got to go!"
"Plans for this evening?" Luca asked, her grin replaced with a scowl.
"Café meetings are on Tuesday," Jehan assured her. "Monsieur Enjolras has invited me to dinner tonight."
"Oh," she said in a somewhat lighter tone. "Well, have fun. I'll let you know if I find anywhere for you."
"Thanks again," Jehan intoned. "You're the best."
He kissed her forehead and ran off, leaving Luca with a warm smirk on her face.
"Stupid boy," she mumbled, and then turned to go home.
A/N: Sorry for the delay, but the last three weeks of summer are when my parents plan vacations. We're going to the beach this week, so there will probably be another long wait for the next chapter. R&R anyway! They brighten my life!