Éponine gave Enjolras a sweet smile as he looked up at her from behind his book. He glanced between her and the book, before sitting it down. "I'm sorry to make you wait. I have business to attend to before we can begin our lessons."

"It's alright. I understand." Éponine nodded, sitting forward and resting her chin on her fist. "I'll wait." She didn't mind having to sit and watch Enjolras, pensively reading his book. "Is it interesting?"

"It's the writings of Robespierre."

"Oh." Éponine recognized the name, she heard his name more as a child. He was one of the rebels who had been beheaded, he was the one who led it all with his grand oratory skills. "Do you aspire to be like him?"

"Yes." Enjolras nodded, picking the book back up and starting it again. "You know who he is?"

"My parents spoke of him when I was younger, they lived through that period of time. You were just a child then weren't you? That was thirty years ago when he died?"

"Yes, I was too young to remember but I am well aware of the power that his words had. I only wish that I could lead my people as he led his."

"To death? The streets ran crimson with the blood from the guillotine. What if they reinstitute that device?"

"You sure know your history."

Éponine bit her lip, "Yes, well, it was one thing I found I could learn easily. It's what my parent's blame in my sad obsession with the students. They say I'm daft to be so hung up on you all."

"Knowledge and justice is never daft." Enjolras smiled, "They always say never judge a book by its cover, but I suppose I have been. You are more intelligent than I thought you were."

"Well good."

Enjolras met Éponine's eyes, "Marius always said you were smarter than most would believe."

"He said that?" Éponine tried to hide the excitement that coursed through her. Even if her chances with Marius were damned, it made her feel like all of her care towards him hadn't fallen on deaf ears. He always said he loved the way she teased him, but never had he told her how smart he thought she was. He always seemed to scoff at her when she said that she too could have been a student.

"Yes." Enjolras traced his hand along the spine of the book he held, "But, that is neither me reading or me teaching you – so let's get to that!"

Éponine's smile widened as Enjolras scooted closer to her. She was more comfortable with trying to gain his attentions then having to have a conversation with him. The thought that she could potentially say something ridiculous that would irritate him and ruin the whole plan scared her. She needed the money from Grantaire.

"Let's see, where to start. Where to start?" Enjolras flicked through the book he had been reading, "This might be too complicated for you. Perhaps something simpler."

"I just want to read." Éponine urged, touching his arm. It wasn't meant to be part of the game of seduction, she merely meant to place her hand on his arm and urge him to teach her to read whatever there was to be read. She wanted to learn to read and write as much as she wanted the money for seducing the upright rebel. Enjolras was a handsome man and she could never deny that she more than willing would jump into bed with him.

"Then read you will." Enjolras laughed, patting her hand reassuringly. "If I can teach a lot of boys and men to fight for the rights of Paris, I can teach you to read and write."

"It's that much of a feat?" Éponine chuckled, pushing his shoulder playfully. "As if teaching moi was as difficult as it is to teach Grantaire not to be a drunk."

"An impossible feat, but I will make it possible."Enjolras winked playfully. Sometimes Éponine found that she saw a side of Enjolras that she didn't see around the others.

~o~

Hours passed as Enjolras attempted to teach Éponine how to read. It wasn't as easy as he had hoped it would be, nor was it as simple as she had anticipated it to be. Reading seemed to be an impossible feat, just as they had joked. It frustrated Éponine that she could not understand how words, alone, made sense to her but words in a long sentence made no sense.

The only positive aspect of being frustrated around Enjolras meant that she could have a justified reason to touch him and allow him to touch her in return. She saw a spark in him when he patiently continued to work with her. He didn't seem to let her frustration stop his help. He was determined to teach her to read. He would be a liar if he said that he didn't enjoy the poor girl's company. He could see why Marius had tolerated her presence for so long, it was a pleasant companionship.

He enjoyed spending his evenings unwinding beside her. He absorbed himself all day in the company of exuberant young men and the thin pages of books but he rarely enjoyed the company of a soft woman beside him. An outspoken woman, but a female nevertheless.

But in his life he had chosen to deny himself the pleasures of womenfolk, for the sake of being led astray and distracted from the true matters in life. He would rather die young and accomplished then die old and married. He wouldn't waste the vibrant years of his life because he was too busy wooing women and being led by a male's other "brain". There were more important matters than appeasing his appetite for romance. Romance could be found in a good book after all other matters were accomplished. That book would leave him sleepless and hungry for more in a different way than an evening in a brothel with the others. They came in reeking of their night's gallivanting, while he arrived for lesson's bright eyed and feeling proud of finishing yet another scrumptious book.

While his friends described the damsel's ivory skin and tender caress and pleasant blossom air, he could describe the ivory pages and soft parchment that smelt of the sweetest smell a book could produce.

But somehow in the end he couldn't deny that he enjoyed having a woman's hand touch his, or her fingers brush across the skin of his arm. Or even imagine what it would be like to press his lips against hers. In books such a touch seemed tantalizing and left him curious to experience it. His virgin lips had never pressed themselves against anything except that curve of a mug or the leather of a finished book.

There were things he could live without until the war was over, and a woman's lips were one sacrifice.

A/N: Has anyone heard the Symphonic 1988 version of Les Mis? The one with all the extra Eponine songs? She had SO MUCH cut out of her songs. You learn a lot from what she sings, Marius, Montparnasse, and her parents sing that was cut OUT! Gah. Listen to it! I added bits to this to flesh her character out with the musical more so than the book. However, "virgin lips" on Enjolras' part is in the book. The call his lips virgin, so I took the literal approach to that phrase.