Notes: Hey guys:) This chapter picks up immediately after the last one ended—thank you so much to those who reviewed: frustratedstudent, PhoenixFlames12 and HermsP! I hope you guys like this one too.
BARRICADE
CHAPTER XII
For a few moments, the Musain is silent as Les Amis gape at Éponine. Then a (very) drunken Grantaire begins to clap slowly, and before long all the Amis are whooping at catcalling.
Enjolras turns to Éponine, confused. "I have no idea why they are cheering, I swear—" But Éponine is not paying any attention to Enjolras's embarrassment—she is bowing and smiling to the Amis. She blows a kiss and Jehan catches it—he seems to be tearing up.
"That was exactly like a movie," he whispers to Courfeyrac, who just rolls his eyes. "The way she appeared right on cue, they have to be in love now, it's simply all so romantic and I..." Jehan is getting worked up now, ignoring all common functions of grammar and punctuation (despite being a literature and poetry double major) as he rambles on in one gigantic run-on sentence, spouting stuff about the fresh tender petals of love or some other romantic nonsense, and Courfeyrac pats his back nervously, hoping to calm him down.
Enjolras overhears Jehan, and has to stifle his laughter. None of the Amis, let alone Jehan, know that Éponine is a filmmaker—it wouldn't surprise him if she had specifically waited outside the door for the perfect moment to enter, stage right. And somehow he doubts if Éponine would particularly appreciate being associated with fresh tender petals of anything, so he decides he'd better tell Jean Prouvaire to shut his overly poetic mouth before said overly poetic mouth is shut for him, most likely by Éponine's fist.
He is about to sit down and warn Jehan when Éponine comes and stands beside him. "So, about that job..." she says, and he remembers the real reason that she came. Not for him. Sure, last week at the Sorbonne she apologized (sort of) but now they are merely civil acquaintances (at least, that's what he tries to tell himself.) They're not on good enough terms to merit her coming to the Musain just to see him...right? Enjolras groans internally, because it has become obvious that no matter how sternly he talks to himself, there will still be a small part that hopes Éponine came for him.
"Yes, the job." His voice is suddenly formal and stilted, not anything like himself and that confuses Éponine. And she has to admit, it hurts a little bit too. "I am certain you could be a waitress," he says stiffly. "Or were you envisioning something else?"
Éponine bites back a laugh and deadpans, "Well. I have been considering perhaps an exotic dancer of some sort?" she replies in an equally formal tone. "I'm sure Grantaire would tip very well."
Grantaire hears this, and raises his half-full glass of vodka to her, and she smiles.
Enjolras just stares at her, in equal parts shock and confusion. "I...what?" he splutters.
She punches his shoulder. "Calm down, Apollo. I was making a joke."
Enjolras is bewildered as he rubs his shoulder (once again, Éponine has probably left a bruise) but Éponine is bewildered too. He doesn't know it, but that was the first real joke Éponine's made in ages.
She actually hasn't made one since she and Enjolras were last together, she realizes.
That scares her a little bit, if she's being honest. It's been a long time since Éponine has last realized she needs someone, or that such a big part of herself rests with them.
And that could be a problem.
Notes: Another short chapter (sorry!) but I hope you guys liked it, and please review:)