Yay reviews! The past few weeks have been rather hellish…and hearing from you makes me smile. Also, another chapter is in the works, but I had to split them up because they were getting too long!

Eponine was very quiet as they walked along, her eyes darting about, taking in the other couples walking in the crisp autumn air. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were rosy from the tears she had shed back in the square. The effect added to the sadness in her big brown eyes, and really made her quite lovely.

They strolled by a group of young gentlemen who were lounging on benches, debating on a philosophy lecture they had recently heard. Feuilly knew a few of them, and nodded cordially as he passed, not missing the eyes following his companion. She was oblivious, lost somewhere inside herself.

They reached the edge of the park and came upon a stone footbridge across the Seine. There was a bench midway, and Eponine paused to sit on it. Feuilly stood behind her.

"What's the matter with you today, 'Ponine?" he asked. She shrugged her shoulders and shoved a stray lock of hair back into place with such force that she scraped her forehead with her fingernail. A drop of blood appeared there, and Feuilly quickly took out a handkerchief, blotting it gently. Eponine seemed to not notice, staring out into the river, resting her chin on her hand.

Feuilly watched as her angry face smoothed into a gentler expression, and then a soft smile. Feuilly was confused as to why her mood had changed so quickly, but didn't want to disturb her. The light began fading, and the sunset made her hair seem a richer shade of auburn.

She was so still, she looked like a painting. Feuilly wished that he had brought his supplies so that he could capture this moment of bliss.

"What do you see?" he asked finally. She came slowly out of her reverie, and pointed.

"Do you see them?" she asked. When he strained his eyes, Feuilly could see a young couple on the riverbank. Quite oblivious to the eyes upon them, they were embracing, lips pressed against one another's, clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it.

"That's what we'll be like," Eponine said happily, "Monsieur Marius and me. When I become a real lady, and 'e sees that I'm just as pretty as 'er. And that I love 'im more than she ever will."

Feuilly had expected the hot anger that suddenly swelled in him, and swallowed it down, making another attempt to reason out why the mention of Marius made him so upset. He had become close to Eponine, he decided. Closer than his own sister, really.

Marius wasn't very kind to Eponine, Feuilly reasoned. That must be it. He treated her as if he were the trash of the streets, using her only to get closer to that Cosette, from what Eponine said. Imagine, sending a girl who was in love with you to seek out another woman! Feuilly couldn't think of the hurt that task must have caused Eponine. Yet she had done it.

"…a big house, with lots of little children. I think Monsieur Marius and I will 'ave lovely children, don't you?" Eponine was saying. Feuilly sighed.

"Have you ever considered another man?" he asked, not realizing that he had formed the question until Eponine turned on him with a look of indignation. The fire in her eyes almost made him physically recoil.

"Another man?" she asked angrily.

"I…it's just that he treats you so shabbily," Feuilly explained weakly, realizing that he had made a serious mistake.

"Monsieur Marius has never been anything but kind to me!"

"Eponine, he's using you. He used you to find that Cosette's house, and he'll keep using you until he's married her and he has no more use for you!"

"Be quiet!" she screeched. The sunset light reflected red in her eyes, making her look quite demonic. Feuilly sprang up. He was angry now.

"You're a fool," he said coldly, "Don't you see what you could become? I can help you to be anything that you want. You're terribly intelligent, and beautiful, and you learn quicker than most of the young ladies who are in finishing schools! And you want to waste it all on the Bonapartist?" As soon as the words left his lips, Feuilly knew that they wouldn't help his argument. Pontmercy had fought with Enjolras over the same thing, and hadn't come back to the Café Musain since.

"You sound like that man that Monsieur Marius fought with. The one that doesn't like him just because of his politics. I think that's foolish," Eponine said wickedly. The fact that she had picked up on this so quickly just infuriated Feuilly more.

"Damn it, Eponine! You're so smart, you can remember a little thing like your precious Marius getting in a fight with Enjolras, but you're such a fool you can't see how horribly he treats you!" Feuilly's voice was shaky, and he was unnerved. It was rare that he raised his voice to anyone, and even rarer that he swore.

"He won't treat me horribly…once I'm a lady," Eponine said. It was a terrible argument, even to her ears, and she felt like she would weep again. But years of being on the street steeled her heart and turned pain to anger.

"Who're you, anyway? To tell me who I can an' can't love! Me own father never told me what was good or bad for me, 'e never cared enough! Why should you?" she raised her eyes to meet Feuilly's, liquid brown into icy blue, her gaze burning into his very soul. He spoke very quietly.

"Because I'm your friend, 'Ponine. And I care for you and want what's best for you."

"But you don't know what's best for me," she whispered desperately, her voice cracking. Eponine dropped her eyes from his, tracing a cobblestone with the toe of her slipper.

"I guess not," he replied, his shoulders sagging in defeat. There was no reasoning with this girl.

"Would you like me to walk you home, mademoiselle Eponine?" he asked dully. She shook her head wordlessly, and he turned to go. He heard her footsteps take off in the opposite direction, then come back, following him. Feuilly paused.

"Will I see you again?" Eponine's timid voice, soft with apology came out of the darkness.

"If you wish. You know where to find me. Goodbye."

"G-goodbye."

Feuilly heard her burst into sobs as she ran off into the night, heard her small feet pounding against the pavement. He trudged home, miserable and confused, wondering if he would see Eponine again.

Eponine ran until she felt her lungs would burst, heading for Monsieur Marius' house. Just seeing him…a glimpse of him would make her feel better. But the windows were dark. He would be at her house. Eponine took off again until she arrived at 55 Rue Plumet. Her skinny chest heaved up and down as she crouched by the iron gate, waiting for him to leave. She would wait all night if she had to.