A/N: I'm sorry I took so long to update =/. I just got a new job and I've been working like crazy, so I have had very little time to write. I hope you all enjoy this new chapter =)

I sat on my bed with Helene behind me combing through my wet hair. The smell of the lavender that I bathed in filled my lungs with its crisp fresh aroma. I bathed in the oils every night, it softened my skin and its scent relaxed me to sleep. I made sure to bathe with extra lavender scented oils due to tonight leaving me upset and disgruntled. Alexandre Enjolras left me upset and disgruntled. I never knew someone so intense; he was like the other side of the moon, dark and mysterious. His true feeling hidden away behind his stony face and cloudy eyes. He uses those gunmetal blue eyes to size up his opponent and hides his findings deep in his mind and behind an unbreakable marble face. Then his words attack and dig out his opponents thoughts while he observes the changing tides in their eyes and watches how they react to his biting words. He is cold and calculating and uses his silence to reveal you to him, while he remains closed off and domineering.
He is rude, unkind, yet for the past couple of hours he has been on my mind, from the time we left the Enjolras residence up until now he has been the only thing on my mind. Our conversation running through my head over and over again constantly on repeat. I couldn't get his voice out of my head, how he spoke low, almost threateningly but disinterested at the same time. How it vibrated in his chest and came out venomously when angry or annoyed. How with just one sentence he spoke, he had me riled up and angrier than I had ever been.
His intense stare gave me goose bumps and still frightened me hours later. He has a look that seems calculating and predatory like that of a warrior planning his next attack. It's frightening to think but how could I know what he was thinking when he displayed less expression than a brick? With his silence I found myself scared and shying away from him, even when angry at him I found it hard to look into his penetrating eyes and not look away. I wanted him to think that I wasn't scared of him even though inside I was falling apart and coming undone at the seams. I felt that I needed to prove to him that I wasn't weak and in some strange sense he might respect me for not backing down because he is the kind that crushes his opponents beneath him with just one cold glare.
It astounded me how he could remain calm but sound angry, amused, authoritative, annoyed and condescending without showing a glimmer of emotion. He was like unsweet tea, how it is bitter and harsh in taste and makes you cringe and pull away but at the same time it's refreshing and raw. He interested me and I wanted to know more of him while at the same time I didn't. He was a new book that I wanted to open but and explore or close and never open again .He was a new composition that would take me on a new adventure that I might enjoy or I might not. He is interesting, frighteningly so that I wanted to know what was hiding inside that cold, hard exterior.
I wanted to know what he thought of me as he watched my every move from across the table. Did he find me a coward for looking away from him then? Did he think me as scum by the way that he abruptly let go of my arm and how he stalked off? Was I truly annoying in his eyes or was he just trying to put me off? Whatever he thought, I wanted to explore the inner machinations of his mind. Maybe I might find a kind person under his tough exterior. With my pickaxe in hand I will chip away at his marble plating to uncover what was inside that cold stone. But first I would need to get past his less than pleasant demeanor.
I mentally thanked him for giving me a day between our next meeting to cool off. The time would give me the opportunity to go into our next encounter level headed, it would also help me recover from tonight's events. If we were to meet tomorrow we would most definitely exchange blows despite our mutual views on the subject of marriage and our parents. We might share one thing in common but our opposite attitudes will have us relentlessly butting heads or we might actually find ourselves enjoying one another. Only more time alone together will tell if we can get passed each other's outer shell and be on friendly terms with one another or we could end up hating each other for the rest of our lives.
There was a knock at my door and I looked up, it was late, who would be knocking at my door? Helene got up from behind me and placed the brush down on the bedside table and ambled over to the door. She opened the door and in burst my very excited younger sister Victoria. She was smiling from ear to ear with her hair falling in her face and streaming down her shoulder like a waterfall. She giddily jumped onto the plush bed and hopped on her knees towards me. She ran her fingers through her hair to clear away the stray strands. She looked about ready to explode with her reddened rosy cheeks and smile that was too big for her face.
"What was he like?'' she chirped. I heard the click of my door as Helene shut it and returned to sitting behind me and brushing my hair. I wanted to ask who she was talking about but I knew very well that playing dumb would lead to her pinching me repeatedly until I cracked or worse, she would sit on me and tickle me until my sides cramp and I was in tears. Playing dumb wasn't…isn't worth the pain.

"No please stop.'' I said between laughter and cries of agony. My sister sat atop my thighs, her weight bearing down on me, making me unable to kick her off. Her small hands buried themselves in my armpits and I could do nothing to remove them. She wouldn't relent on her onslaught and would not yield to my please and begging. She attacked me ferociously with tickles as she tried to extract information from me.
My sides hurt and my stomach was on fire from my loud laughter. I couldn't hold back the laughter and my own laughter had me in pain as I tried to writhe away from my sister. I felt like I was going to die if she continued tickling me with such fervor and determination. She smiled evilly from above me and moved her hands to my sides and tickled my ribs (my most ticklish spot) with her small nimble fingers. I almost threw her off me as my body writhed uncontrollably and my laughter coming out sounding like a hyena. I couldn't take it; I was in so much pain that tears were now running down my hot face. If my face showed any color it would now be cherry red.
"Ok, ok'' I gasped out and like the switch of a blade she stopped but held her hands up like claws, waiting to tickle if I withheld any information from her. That night I was the most honest with her for fear of being tickled to death. When she left she poked me playfully in the side making me jump and yelp.

I cringed internally at the idea of getting tickled; Helene, I knew would take part in the attack. When both are around I tend to choose my battles more wisely lest I be held down by one and tickled by the other. One might be easier to escape but two? That was just suicide. They were a battle that I didn't want to head into, it was one that I was sure that I would lose. Dying was not on my agenda today and I would make sure of that.
"He is mysterious. "I said truthfully. From my experiences I find most people can be relatively easy to read and figure out on just one meeting alone, I went through the evening with Alexandre and I know nothing about him. I don't know what his looks mean and finding out what he is thinking is unfeasible. Attempting to decipher his stoic facade would be timely and near unattainable.
"Oh, how so?" she scooted closer and watched me attentively. Victoria thrived on gossiping about the opposite sex. When I was courted two years ago after every meeting with my suitor, Victoria would jump into my bed and question me regardless if I was asleep or not. She was going to drain me of any information and the she would talk about just men in general…which she loved as much as the idea of love. She loved being pursued by men but despite this she is more interested in my miniscule love life than her own. She finds any reason to talk about men that I am interested in, which happen to be none. She has however managed to get me to acknowledge an attractive man before. I may not have much interest in the male gender but I do sometimes find myself admiring certain men's good looks.
"He doesn't talk much.'' I shrugged and sucked in a cheek.
"So he's boring.'' She stated bluntly.
He was far from boring with his quick cutting comments and rapidly changing moods, his favorite being brooding which I believe didn't look right on him because it scared me and made him appear harsher than he really was. His looks are worse than his words, I believe, and I don't know what to expect from his turbulent sour mood. From our meeting I learned that I would need to be on my toes when around him.
"He is far from boring. Also, I don't talk much but does that make me boring?'' I asked
Victoria shrugged,''Sometimes.'' She said almost too honestly."When we talk you only seem to be interested in books. I wish that you were just more interested in better things.''
I frowned heavily at her,'' What would be more interesting for us to talk about?'' I huffed.
"First we can start off by you telling me what you thought about him.'' She smiled coyly at me.
" I thought he was a very interesting individual.'' This was true,"I thought he was a very good listener, ("Are you at least going to talk to me?''He looked blankly at me and raised his glass to his lips) choosing to listen more than he talked. When he did speak, his responses were well thought out (''I much prefer you when you're not asking questions.'' he said coldly with authority.) and he asked me questions that kept me on my toes (,''Did you ever think that I just don't want to talk to you?'' he sounded amused.) Talking with him there was never a dull moment (''Then it's settled. Friday at noon at Cafe de Flore.'' he declared.)
"So are you and the beauty going to spend more time with one another?'' Victoria chirped. I forced a smile onto my face and nodded nicely. Beauty? Well, we all are entitled to our own opinions, her judgment was clearly cloudy. If she saw him the way that I see him, she would side with me. For me the physical attraction wasn't there, his mood was too sour for me and deterred me from thinking that he could be "attractive". I'm sure there are other women that he has put on the list beside me that feel the way I do about him. Victoria just isn't one of them. Thank God. "Are you excited?''
"Thrilled.'' ("…I would rather be drug behind a horse and carriage than to see you one more time.'' I spat.) I lied through my teeth. What I said about him wasn't completely false, but really, who would know the difference? I just needed to pretend that I liked the man and that's it, even if I had to exaggerate a little every now and then (''I don't like you...at all.) If I had to say that he was this kind, great guy, I would ("If they thought that in a thousand years I would be interested in a woman such as yourself, they were dead wrong. ''). I didn't wish to know the man but at the same time I did. I don't understand myself as to why I want to get to know him but somehow deep down I think he might prove to be…interesting? And maybe enjoyable? I mentally sighed at the headache beginning to manifest itself, it was getting late and my mind was letting me know it.
"What did you think about his looks?" she asked which I replied with a shrug. Unsatisfied she pouted and continued to poke and prod at me as a means to get me to speak. I didn't find anything attractive about him, giving me nothing to respond to her with. "Come on sister, you can't spend a whole evening and not have anything to say about that long sexy hair, his intense baby blues, or those irresistibly beautifully crafted kissable lips.'' She swooned.
I rolled my eyes in disgust at the star stuck look in my sister's eyes. These conversations are the reason I choose to say very little comments that could be perceived as positive, if not I will be sitting for hours as Victoria rants to me about how "beautiful" the opposite sex is. One single negative sentence from me will turn into paragraph upon paragraph of an opposing argument from Victoria. I simply didn't want to go there, so to appease her I responded by saying that I thought he had a pretty eye color. This was true because blue was my favorite color not that I thought they looked good on him but the minor details I kept from her were only… minor.
Accepting my response she continued to talk,''What about his height? I know you like taller men… Well, you're already short, so finding a taller man isn't hard. But! You do barely reach his shoulders… I don't even think you reach his shoulders.'' She pondered thoughtfully. I glared at her in annoyance. It's true, I'm not a very tall individual but even with this simple fact it's still annoying when someone comments on my heights…It's not exactly something that isn't obvious. From a distance I could be perceived as a child but on closer inspection I have the body of a woman, I'm just shorter than most.
"Yes, he is very tall.'' I drawled. This conversation was growing tiresome and I wanted it over and done with, for the sake of my sanity. Any longer of listening to Victoria praise and swoon over the man of the topic would soon have me put in an asylum. My sanity couldn't take one more "his eyes are so beautiful" or "those lips", my sanity was rapidly slipping away with my attention in tow.
"Standing next to him, he simply dwarfs you.'' She teased. Victoria also has a love for tall men because she herself is a tall woman. She is very long and lean in the most attractive way that made her look elegant while most tall woman looked clumsy and gangly. She glided when she walked while most her height stomped along. Her movements are graceful and when placed with her unrealistic beauty, men flock to her…better her than me.
"If you like him so much, why don't you go for him?'' I inquired with a twinge of annoyance in my voice. NO need to say it, but she is more interested than I am and that's certain.
She wagged her finger at me in a "now now" fashion and said with a hint of amusement,''He is yours." She teased,''By the way, are you ever going to see him again?''
(''Then it's settled. Friday at noon at Cafe de Flore.") I sighed in disdain at the memory and nodded to my sister. She squealed and grabbed my hands in an excited gesture that I have grown used to."What are you going to wear?'' she bounced up and down on her calfs.
I shrugged,"I haven't thought of it. Maybe I'll wear my plain blue dress.'' I stated.
She scrunched up her nose and shook her head with such vigor I thought her head might snap. She looked at me with urgent wide eyes and shook her head one last time,''Wear the white one with the blue trim and ribbon.'' She said almost pleadingly.
"Why that one? What's wrong with the blue?'' I questioned.
"The white one looks great on you. The blue is just boring, your clothes shouldn't give away your actual personality.'' She urged.
I rolled my eyes,''I want to wear the blue.'' I stood firm on my decision. I liked the simply royal blue dress because it didn't say much and wasn't obnoxious. The white had a high neckline that stopped right under my chin in a modest fashion. However, the solid white faded into a more sheerly laced fabric right at my chest to reveal my caramel colored collar bones and threatened to reveal the start of my breasts like the yellow dress had managed to actually do.
"If you wear the blue one,'' she began with malice,''I will tickle you until you can no longer breathe. And I am sure that Helene agrees with me and will be more than happy to help get you into the dress.'' She finished smugly.
I cringed and looked at Helene who was agreeing with Victoria. I huffed out in frustration and laid back onto my bed and hid myself with a few of the many pillows on my bed. Victoria laughed and threw herself across my stomach and hugged my small waist lovingly,'' Trust me sister, you look great in that dress. When Alexandre sees you in that dress he will want to see you a lot more. He might even be eager to see you out of it.'' She said suggestively. I felt my face burn at her boldness and turned over to wiggle free from her grip.
Helene burst into laughter,''Now, it's late Ms. Victoria, you should be getting to bed.'' She said as she ushered my younger sister out of the room. Victoria flashed me a coy smile and sweetly bid me goodnight. My face was still burning even after she had gone. I myself have never hugged let alone kissed another man, other than my father and that was only on the cheek. To be naked and spread out before a man was frightening, I didn't even like Helene seeing me naked and the woman cared for me as a babe. When I bathe I make Helene fill the tub with numerous amounts of soap until the bubbles practically spill over, then I shimmy in, careful not to spill water out of the tub, and I make Helene turn away during my entry into the tub. She finds this silly considering she has seen me naked numerous times but for me the unease of being bare in front of someone.. anyone, is still there, no matter my relationship with them.
Helene got back on the bed behind me and started to pull my drying hair into a tight ponytail at the crown of my head. I winced as she pulled an tugged as I bobbed my head to lessen the pain but she only pulled harder to keep me still. I'm sure any mother has gone through trying to groom a tender headed child's hair. Growing up I would manage to pull away and hide while I left Helene looking for me with hands filled with my hair. I would hide in the space under the stairs and rub the sore spots on my head where I would be sporting bald spots. When she would find me , pick me up and sift through my hair and sigh before saying "you're lucky you have thick hair". She then kissed the top of my head, apologized and let me go to sleep with my hair wild and down. As I got older I became more tolerant of the grooming process and I am glad to say that I haven't had bald spots in years.
I stared down at my hands while Helene tied up hair. My eyes looked over my long fingers and dainty hands that were small next to my father's. His hands are strong and wide, I loved holding his hands as a child and admiring how his hands seemed to engulf my hands. I would look and just marvel upon them and wonder how someone could have such large hands. Now that I look at my hands I know that they could come from only one person, my mother. The only time I asked about my mother, I was ten and I had wondered into my father's room with tears running down my face because that was when I realized that my sister Victoria wasn't really my sister. That was when he told me about my mother and that Victoria was still my sister even if we didn't have that same mother. That was also the day I realized why my step mother didn't seem to fond of me. I knew about my mother but never what she looked like and I found myself asking Helene about her this night.

Helene POV:
18 years ago.

I watched Charlotte slowly stoop to her knees with a hand on her large round tummy. She bent over and began scrubbing at a stain on the floor and I placed a hand over my own round tummy. After a short time, dark black curly strands fell into her eyes and she rose back on her haunches, with hands on her hips breathing heavily. She turned to me with a bright white smile,''Being pregnant isn't easy.'' she lovingly rubbed her swollen stomach.
I smiled back and patted my own,''I've had three boys and it hasn't gotten any easier. I'm hoping to have a girl this time around.''
Her bright green eyes glistened next to her red toned mocha colored skin. Her hair reached short in tightly wound black curls falling just past her chin. Her face though slender always held a large smile on her plump dark lips. She was a small woman, no taller than my twelve year old son but she held an attitude that could compete with the most vicious of animals when provoked. Even when angered she never stayed that way for too long before taking a deep breath and putting back on a caring smile. Her green eyes danced- I think those eyes are what stole 's heart.
Their love may be a secret to most but the ring on her finger I knew was a gift from and the smiles that pass between them have not gone unnoticed by me. They were just like my husband and I years ago. Sneaking off to be in each others arms and whispering sweet nothings to one another during the night. Young and in love are what they are and their love is one of beauty. To witness a bourgeois man falling for a kind hearted slave woman is a beautiful love by not seeing color warms my heart and has me hoping for the best for them. It hurts to know that their love is one that will be torn apart as soon as their child is born. I just hope that their child will one day hear of their love and love others unconditionally as well.

I layed in my bed with my unbreathing newborn daughter in my hands. Cry...Cry...Cry I kept chanting over and over again in my head. I rubbed the cold child to coax it to life but to no avail did my angel let out one single cry and I found my lip quivering and tears running down my face for my daughter that I had prayed and wanted for so long. I held her close to my chest and rocked back and forth as I waited for my husband to return home.

The next day I found that Charlotte had also given birth to a small baby girl but by now Charlotte was already gone and was sitting in his study with the small infant child with a tear streaked gace. The babe looked up at him with bright sage green eyes like her mother's, and she seemed to cry with him, sensing his pain.
When I approached and got closer the child suddenly stopped crying and looked up at me and studied me before reaching out a small hand. I felt my heart break all over again for my own daughter but I found myself smiling at the child and picked her up from her father's arms and whisked her away to care for her.

Flashback end

Enjolras POV:

My chest rose and fell erratically as I tried to slow down me breathing. I was covered in sweat and my body was recovering from the high of my release. My head spun as I closed my eyes to try and regain myself and collect my thoughts. Eponine always had this effect on me once we were joined. Once I was inside her , her walls would tightly hold and relentlessly milk me until we were both screaming and gasping from our climax.
I looked over at my brown haired friend...my best friend. I was never one for friends growing up but that changed the day I met Marius and Eponine. He being a bourgeois and she being a gamin. The two were a queer sight at first but their calm, happy demeanor soon grew on me. They were refreshing to have around, my life up until then had been rather plain, like the black and white print on my books and I myself was plain, some might even say boring.
Those two however, changed me. They see apart of me, that even surprises me, exists. I smile more (which is very little) and laugh more (which is even less) when they are around. The two seem to bring the sun when they are around. I think they are the only people that have seen my nicer side. To others I know that I come off as cold and cruel but that is all for good reason. Human interaction isn't something that I truely strive for. I do not seek love or companionship and I certainly do not seek friendship unless it just so happens to...happen. I am a man that has been hardened by time and betrayed by those I love and being alone is easier. Also, I am a man that is on a mission and is at war with the country I love so that I may save her. France is my one true love and it's people deserve to love her as I do... only this will come by freeing her. If I had never met Eponine, I never would have seen the France that she sees everyday.
Epoinine has lived on the dirty streets of France for so long she doesn't remember the feel of warm sheets. She doesn't remember what it's like to be held and not beat by her own father. The feel of a full stomach is only a memory. And to sell her body is a knife that she will one day hold to her neck and end it all. I watched as she felt her cheeks that were red from exertion and smile as if in great joy. That smile meant that Marius was far off of her mind and she wasn't hurting. To her I was a pain killer that momentarily will cause her pain to cease. Just like she is my stress relief. We both use each other and the memory of our first night was just a memory between us and outside of this room we were friends...just friends and I was glad to keep it that way. She will always be the only woman I trust and will allow close to me.

A/N: So tell me what you all think =). Drop a review and could I ask maybe for three for this chapter? I know you all can do it, so let's go =). Love it? Hate it? Anything need to change? Let me know. I love you all that are reading this *kisses*