Okay, so I've been CONSUMED by ExR feels lately, so I wrote a poem (will post at bottom) Anyway, either ExE or ExR is my OTP. But on to the chapter!
Also, my move went smoothly, and I'm in my new house now! (Woohoo!)
And we've broken 90 reviews! (Double Woohoo!)
Eponine woke up, her eyes bleary. She went to move and found she couldn't; Enjolras was sleeping on her shoulder. He was a bit of a dead weight at that moment, so she found it nearly impossible to move around.
She turned around and saw Grantaire was smirking and looking at his phone. "What's put you in such a fine mood?" she asked. He just giggled in a higher pitched tone then she would have expected possible from Grantaire.
"I just have to post this to Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram, then we'll talk."
Suddenly, Eponine realized what he was doing. In an instant, she had snatched his phone and held it just out of his reach, while scrolling through the pictures. When she saw the latest one, she said: "You little bastard,"
He just grinned and shrugged his shoulders adorably. She deleted the photo of her and Enjolras sleeping on each other and handed the phone back to him, smirking. "What?" he said. "Why did you delete that perfectness?"
"What are you two idiots being so loud about?" asked Enjolras blearily. "Grantaire took a picture of us sleeping on each other, and I was deleting it."
"I don't care," mumbled Enjolras, and closed his eyes again. Grantaire smirked. Eponine rolled her eyes and turned on her music. A few minutes later, the loudspeaker came on: "Prepare for landing in New York City."
Eponine turned to Enjolras. It appeared he had fallen asleep again. She poked him. "Apollo," she said.
He half-opened one eye. "What?"
"Flight's landing." was her reply.
He sighed and removed his head from her shoulder. His lovely golden curls were disheveled and messy, and he had a hint of a mustache on his upper lip. It was in that moment that Eponine realized how handsome he was. All those things made him have a bit of a wild look, a not Enjolras look. And she rather liked it.
However, she was still in love with Marius Pontmercy. Even though he was with Cossette (it had been so since October) and they hadn't spoken for a few weeks, she still loved him as fiercely as before. And yet all the qualities of Enjolras that she saw more every single day, every single meeting, were more endearing each moment.
As she sat on the plane, it really made her realize how much her plan had worked. She noticed a passion, a fire, in Enjolras that she hadn't seen before. Even when she looked into his eyes, they were a bright, cerulean blue, kindled by zeal, whereas in October they had been foggy gray pools.
In fact, she hadn't realized how much the marble man was hiding until she tried to fix him. He still hadn't told her everything, but she would know. In time.
She peered out the window; the plane was rapidly approaching the ground and in a moment, she felt it touch down. Beside her, Grantaire was grinning. Enjolras, to her left, was stoic as ever, but he looked at her and she thought she saw a hint of a smile on his lips, and laughter in his eyes.
"New York, New York!" Courfeyrac sang as they got off the plane, much to Eponine's amusement. "So where we headed, Apollo?" asked R from behind her. Enjolras replied: "Terminal E. We have to get on a train and then get a car."
They nodded and began walking through the airport.
As they walked, Enjolras stole a glance at the dark-haired girl beside him. Eponine fascinated him. She had scars on her arms and one small one on her cheek. Her dark hair was tangled, yet clean, and her chocolate eyes shone with laughter and joy.
He was thinking about her so long that he nearly missed the train and Courfeyrac had to drag him back to the others. "Sorry," he said, blushing. Courfeyrac just grinned, and when he stared at Eponine, she was smiling too.
…
June 11
Dear Diary,
Eponine chewed her pencil for a moment, considering what to write. Her feet dangled off the end of the hotel bed. She was alone in the room, but the Les Amis had all gotten adjacent rooms with doors connected, so she wasn't truly on her own. Even at that moment, she could hear the laughter of Courfeyrac from the room left to her, and Enjolras's calm voice from the room right to her.
Without thinking, she grabbed the red jacket that had once again become hers, from the hook on the wall, and put it on. The smell of paper, warm and slightly musty, yet good, exuded from it. The familiar smell, the smell that filled Enjolras's apartment, instantly calmed her down, though she was not sure why.
She opened the glass door at the end of her room, and, carrying her diary, walked outside to the balcony. The stars shone in the sky, and she could see the city lights below her, and stretching out all around her. She could hear the horns of cars and see lights flashing all about the city, and yet, it was all strangely calm.
She picked up her pencil.
What can I say? she wrote. I'm happy now.
Then, she opened the glass door and threw her diary and pencil on the couch. A light breeze blew her hair, and someone walked up beside her, arms crossed on the railing as he stared at the city.
Eponine didn't have to look to see who it was, but she did all the same, and Enjolras seemed lost in thought, staring out over the Big Apple.
"Hey," she said. He smiled, a real, true smile, and turned toward her. "Hey, 'Ponine," he murmured.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For what?" he asked. "For this, for everything." she replied. He just stared at the city, an almost wistful expression on his face. "You know," he started, after a moment.
"What?" she asked. "You're going to be seventeen in one minute." He replied. She checked her watch, and indeed it read: 11:59. "Wanna come back to my room?" he asked. "At least, for a minute or so,"
She smiled softly. "There's nothing I would like better."
Enjolras grinned as they stepped off the deck. Grantaire and all the others had planned a surprise party for her, which was taking place in the golden-haired leader's room.
He could tell Eponine was surprised and a bit confused when she walked into his room and saw the pile of presents on the table. "What's going-" she started, but then all the Amis leaped out from their hiding places. "SURPRISE!" they shouted, and she blushed cherry red. But in a moment, a huge grin found it's way to her face as Joly and Bossuet brought out a gigantic cake from the kitchen. "How did you even bake that? We're in a hotel!" she exclaimed and they smiled.
"We went and bought it from Carlo's Bakery in New Jersey!" said Jehan, at the same time Feuilly said: "Bakeries are helpful."
Enjolras looked at her, and the surprise and delight on her face was wonderful to see. For a girl, so broken, so alone, to have a light, a happiness in her life again was wonderful. After all, she, among others, were who he was fighting for. He had planned it all out on the plane. But, he forced himself to put details of the rebellion out of his mind and to just enjoy the party…
Eponine grinned as her cake was cut and they all had huge slices on their plates. Hers was the middle, the piece that said: "Ponine," out of the message: "Happy B-Day, 'Ponine!"
Grantaire somehow procured a piñata and stick, as well as a blindfold. When she asked him why there was a piñata, he just grinned and said: 'Everyone needs to be a kid sometimes." He handed her the stick.
She smiled and whacked the piñata, nearly breaking it with one swing. Then it was Courfeyrac's turn, and he missed, crashing face first onto the couch due to the blindfold.
After Enjolras, Feuilly, Jehan, and Combeferre had all had their turns, Bossuet managed to break it with one strong blow, shattering it and spilling tons of candy onto the hotel floor.
Then, it was present time. Grantaire, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac all chipped in and bought her a brand new iPhone5. "It's already loaded with all our numbers and all your music," Jehan said shyly.
Next was Bahorel's gift of a sketchbook and colored pencils. "I heard you liked art," he said. After that followed a Captain America hoodie (Captain America was her favorite superhero), a pair of headphones, and a painting of the Musain (from Jehan, of course.)
Lastly, Enjolras came up to her and presented her with a small box. "I thought you'd like it," he said. She opened it and found a brown newsboy cap. She gasped. "It's perfect."
The biggest smile she'd ever seen on the marble man appeared, and the party continued on until 1:30 in the morning. Finally, they all grew tired, and all disappeared to their respective rooms. But not Eponine.
She fell asleep on Enjolras's couch, head on his shoulder the second night in a row.
Okay, here's my ExR poem. (I just felt the need to post it.)
Words From A Drunk to a Revolutionary
You.
You stand, with papers in your hand.
Above the crowds you so captivate with your words.
"Vive le France, Vive Lemarque," you say, the people
hanging on to your every word.
Me.
Much less perfect, much less important.
I sit, with a bottle in my hand.
Staring at you from across the room.
Brown eyes meet blue, and I look away.
You.
Yes, it's true, I love everything about you.
The curl of your lip.
The shine of your hair.
That smile, teased out of you
By the people's support.
Oh how much I would do to see that smile.
Me.
Everyone thinks I don't believe.
Well, they're right.
I don't believe in most things.
But there is something I will always believe in.
You.
Your eyes, reflecting oceans,
Lingering pools of deepest cerulean.
You would do anything for us.
And yet, you would let us, and yourself die
For the cause.
Me.
I don't believe in the cause.
I don't believe in the king.
I don't even believe in my drink.
What do I believe in? Only I know.
You.
The way you talk.
Making everyone, everyone believe
In what you believe.
But not me.
Me.
What do I believe in?
People say, "Pray tell,"
I just laugh and laugh.
And they walk away.
You.
You don't think I believe in anything.
Which, in truth, is a misjudgment.
You just turn away, frown on your face.
And me staring after you.
Because roses are red.
Violets are blue.
"You don't believe in anything."
"I believe in you."