A/N: Hello my lovelies. So sorry that I disappeared for a bit! I've started college and it is so busy! BUT INSANELY EXCITING. I have my audition for ballet company on Sunday and then my Spring Awakening audition on Anyway I feel like we should continue on with the beautiful love story I am busy crafting, even though at the moment it's not exactly a love story. More like a story of awkwardness between a statue and a homeless girl.
It took another two week for the situation in the house to once again settle into some type of routine. Eponine began to venture out, having grown completely restless of the inside of the apartment, but only when she was accompanying Enjolras to meetings. It became customary for them to walk, her hand on his arm, out of the way to the Café to avoid any possible area of the slums. Enjolras, without speaking of it, understood the danger that Eponine faced from her "previous employers" and simply insisted that he liked the longer route. Eponine suspected his intentions, but didn't question it. The first time they arrived hand-on-arm, Courfeyrac was the first to mention the odd picture it created.
"Mon ami, do not look now but there is a beautiful woman on your arm," he had said, approaching Enjolras cautiously as if he were a wild animal. Enjolras clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes but did not shrug Eponine's hand off his arm.
"Courfeyrac I am well aware of this. It would irresponsible to allow a young mademoiselle to travel through the streets unaccompanied," Enjolras said simply as Eponine detached herself from his arm on her own accord. With a well-known glare, Enjolras effectively ended the conversation for the evening, but his friends vowed to not let it drop.
"Eponine," a voice called timidly. Eponine turned to face Marius, who was rubbing his elbow and looking at her sheepishly. She smiled to herself, but tried to look upset with him.
"Yes Monsieur Marius?" she answered, placing her hands on her hips.
"Eponine I am truly sorry for asking you to do something without even thinking. It was foolish of me," he reached out his arms hesitantly to hug his friend. She grinned and nodded as he hugged her tightly.
"Oh you silly bourgeois boy. I couldn't stay mad at you," she laughed, but before she could continue she was tapped on the shoulder. Enjolras stood, with an unreadable expression on his face, looking at her expectantly.
"Eponine I'd like you to go over the speech for the rally with me," he said pointedly. She rolled her eyes, knowing that Enjolras had not yet forgiven Marius' foolish behaviors at the previous meeting.
"Oui Enjolras," she agreed anyway, not really understanding why she was so willing to follow him away from Marius. She followed though, unaware of the slight flutter of emotion in her stomach, and she listened and corrected him as he read through his speech with her. She was actually able to read some of it, as Enjolras had agreed to given her reading lessons, though she insisted on teaching him some street language in return. Her lessons usually did not flow as easily as the lessons Enjolras gave her.
"Oy Enjolras! That's not it at all," she groaned, clapping her hands on her face. Enjolras had been against the idea of learning street lingo from the beginning, but Eponine would not accept any kind of reading and writing lesson until he agreed to let her repay him.
"Why will I ever need to know this crude language?" Enjolras scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. A small part of him was enjoying the way her cheeks tinted, her nose scrunched, and her hair began to fall out of the ribbon she had tied it with all because of her frustration. He wasn't sure whether that enjoyment came from the easy friendship they had somehow developed and being able to frustrate her so easily, or whether it came from something deeper. He didn't dwell on it, not wanting to face any possibilities.
"When you go to the streets, you need to be able to at least understand what the people are saying. Or else you might as well hand over your wallet to anybody who's waiting in the shadows. Oh that's another thing we gotta go over. How to tell whose faking it and whose not," she launched once more into her lecture which Enjolras dutifully paid attention to. In two weeks' time Eponine deemed him ready to approach the slums, although she didn't truly ever believe he would be fully ready for whatever it was he was going to face. Enjolras took his Saturday to visit the slums of Saint Michel. Eponine stayed behind, though she knew she would be useful to him, she also knew if anyone from the slums recognized her (which they undoubtedly would) her father would find her AND Enjolras. So instead she spent the day cleaning, recleaning, and reorganizing the entire apartment as she hummed a nameless tune to herself. She tried not to think of the horrible things that could be happening to him and trusted his ability to defend himself.
When he returned home that evening he found her pacing in the kitchen nervously.
"Were you waiting for me?" he questioned as he entered, pouring himself a glass of wine. The growing soft spot in his heart was touched by his concern, but his logical side quickly suppressed that emotion as he took a swig from his glass. Eponine ducked her head and kicked the ground, hiding the blush that rose to her cheeks.
"I just wanted to hear you say I was right," she retorted sharply. In truth, she had been sick with worry that he would be harmed in the slums or robbed. "Well?" she prompted further. Enjolras glared at her before taking a deep breath.
"I suppose you were right. The people were angry, at least, just mostly angry at me. I've been spat on, cursed at, shoved, and had every manner of objects thrown at me today. I wouldn't be exaggerating in saying it was a harrowing day. I fear the people will not rise if the revolution continues as is," the worries and fears hit his gut all at once and he stumbled for a chair. Eponine helped him silently and gently, not used to seeing the usually stoic man so vulnerable. "What have I been doing Ponine?" he whispered, staring ahead with a glazed look. Eponine only blinked in shock. She had had no idea he even knew her uncommon nickname, which was only used by Marius and Gavroche. She was especially surprised that he felt comfortable enough to use it. It was then that a knot formed in the pit of her stomach as she realized just how uncomfortable the situation between them was beginning to become. "I have been leading my friends to their blind deaths. No good would come of our deaths if there was no one there to take our place," he murmured, rubbing his temples in deep thought. Afraid to touch him even in his most emotional state, she simply sat across from him. Enjolras' mind was somewhere else, picturing a river of blood in the street. He saw flashes of his friends dying at the hand of the National Guard, of the people shutting their windows and blocking their doors, and surprisingly of Eponine standing alone in the remains of the Café Musain. The last image shocked Enjolras out of his vulnerable state. His jaw tightened once more and his heart hardened as he shoved the image of Eponine out of his head.
"It is not too late Enjolras. You have not called the barricades to rise yet," she reminded softly. She had known the sad reality and so was not shocked by the people's reaction. He shook his head once more.
"No. I will not give up on France. Even if the people will not help themselves I will help them," he insisted, his passion igniting once more.
"That is so bourgeois of you, Enjolras! We do not NEED a hero or a martyr. We are not helpless! We choose not to fight against the King because we are smart enough to it won't do a speck of good. What good do those bourgeois books do if you haven't got a lick of street smarts?" she shot from her chair angrily, smacking the table with her tiny fists. Despite her usually frail appearance, Eponine was a Thenardier. And she knew how to be threatening. Enjolras kept his composure, but carefully avoided looking directly at her. The fire and anger in her eyes would be enough to completely break down the walls he had been carefully reinforcing for weeks. "Merde Apollo! You have seen the people you want to fight so hard for. You have heard their thoughts and yet you STILL do not understand them! You still feel as though you are above them. You would never admit it, but you won't step back and let us care for ourselves!"
"Well you're not doing a very good job of it are you? I didn't say anything, but I know that you are hiding from whoever those men are. If you are doing such a fantastic job then why are you running away from Paris?" the cold tone was more familiar to Eponine than the soft whimper she had heard only five minutes previous, but the words cut deeply into the friendship they had worked so hard to build.
Her cheeks burned in anger as she spat at him, fleeing the room. She locked herself into the spare room, swiftly changing into her old tattered rags. They felt a bit tight since a month of proper food had done her good. She gritted her teeth as she tied the rope tightly. She would not take an ounce of help from Enjolras and if she could she would give back every bite of his food she had put into herself. She would leave Paris immediately, dooming Enjolras and his foolish friends to their fate. She exited the room heading directly for the front door.
"Eponine wait!" his voice called. She halted by default but did not turn back to look at him. "You are right. I am too set in my ways to accept the truth, though I have seen it for my own eyes. France still needs to change, but I must find another way to bring it to her. I see that now and I will need your help now more than ever," she heard his voice soften.
He stared at her back, willing her to turn around so she could see the earnestness in his expression. He was not yet ready to admit it, but he knew she had become an irreplaceable part of his life. The small flame which had been lit the first night they met had slowly melted the marble in one small place. The place was small, but just big enough for Eponine to lodge herself in the opening and nestly into the soft flesh below. She had done so completely unintentionally, though. As she turned to face him, the look on his face was one she did not recognize on the features she had come to know so well. The usually hard blue eyes were soft and inviting, the chiseled jaw was left slack, and the ever present frown gone, leaving only a look of pure desperation.
"No Monsieur Enjolras. I have done all I can for you. I do not know the government like you students. What I know can't be found in your law books," she sighed; the effort of keeping her calm façade was exhausting.
"Eponine I am sorry. I am sorry for doubting you. I am sorry for making you feel belittled. I am sorry for insulting you," he told her. Though the emotions he felt made his stomach twist, he embraced them with courage the same way he approached everything in life. At any other time Eponine would have teased him mercilessly for showing weakness, but the sincerity in his apologies made her squirm with discomfort. The intensity in the room was static as the silence built.
"I cannot stay," she insisted finally. "I have already been in Paris too long. Thank you for the experience Enjolras, but you are right. I have been hiding for too long and now I have to get out. Goodbye Enjolras," she allowed herself a moment of sympathy, knowing the goodbye would be permanent one way or another. If she succeeded getting out of Paris, she would never be able to return. And if she failed, she would pay with her life. Enjolras wanted to grab her and scream 'no'. He wanted to protect her from whatever she was running from. He wanted to tell her to never leave, but Enjolras stayed silent as he watched her go. When the door shut behind her, the flame in his heart was extinguished, but the sliver of Eponine that had wedged itself in remained. And it kept the crack in the marble open for others to join Enjolras knew he was doomed. He could not repair the marble, but he refused to acknowledge the sadness and emptiness Eponine left behind in his home. To occupy his thoughts he set to work planning a new Revolution, one which would take the fighting inside the government.
As he buried his pain in books and plans, Eponine ran from hers. She did not love anyone but Marius, she reminded herself firmly as she darted in and out of the alleyways. It had been about an entire month since she had left Gorbeau House so she deemed the back streets safe enough for a quick escape at dusk. She had not realized that living under Enjolras' roof had had such an effect on her. She did not doubt that he was pleasing to the eye and chivalrous to the core, but Enjolras was not kind nor caring, the two qualities Eponine loved Marius the most for. Those last few moments Enjolras had shown her a different side and this stranger scared Eponine so much she'd simply run. She ran from the feelings she knew to be true. She ran from the strength of the bond that had spontaneously appeared between the Man of Marble and the Girl of the Street. She ran from Enjolras and she ran from love. Unfortunately for Eponine, she ran straight into the arms of a frantic nobleman who had been searching 2 weeks for his new toy. He caught her shoulders and looked down in surprise.
"Bonjour ma chere," he grinned a toothy smile that stunk at brandy. And for the first time in her life, Eponine did not fight the unwanted 'customer'. She surrendered to the man she knew had paid an unworldly amount to own her. Eponine allowed herself to be drapped by him through the streets. She knew it was what she deserved. She did not deserve Marius or Enjolras. She was a whore, a gamine at best. So she went willingly into her fate, hoping that in the next life she would earn better.
"Right now mon amor," the man said as they hailed a carriage. "We're heading to LaVigne Estate, my home and your new cage, my pet," he clucked his tongue, fingering her hair longingly. "I'm sure you'll find it much more pleasing than your father's sorry excuse for an abode."
"Oui, Monsieur," she muttered. Perhaps it would not be so bad to only be forced with one man in a rich home. She would be a trophy to him, which would at least mean she would be fed and clothed and not beaten. Her freedom was gone, though, and with it went the fire in her eyes and the love in her heart.
A/N: AH PLEASE DON'T HATE ME. I shall barricade myself away so that you cannot shoot at me. Please bear in mind that there is NO ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP yet. We're not quite ready for that. Both are still in denial and probably will be for some time. Also exciting stuff! I'm going to see Les Miserables tomorrow night! Yay :) Please review, it makes me so happy in life.