He had been reading to her a book of Shakespeare sonnets, when he noticed that she was no longer responding to what he said. The weight of her cheek against his shoulder had grown from a light touch to the weight of a very asleep head. Enjolras chuckled as he glanced sideways, carefully lying the book down at the table. Éponine was blissfully asleep against his arm, her hand clutching his forearm as though her life depended upon it.

Enjolras expected that Éponine rarely found a safe, comfortable, and warm place to sleep. At least for this evening, he had nothing to attend to. Éponine had been the only thing on his agenda and now that she was sound asleep on his arm, he had nothing else to do.

Sleeping against his arm, sitting in a cold wooden chair, couldn't be a comfortable night's sleep. Enjolras gently scooped her up into his arms, carrying her gently towards one of the armchairs. He had had every intention to lay her on the chair and let her sleep the remainder of the night away, but it seemed that a drowsy Éponine had a very different idea. She wound her arms tightly around his torso, burrowing her cheek against his warm chest.

"Épo-" Enjoras started softly, but instead decided that waking her up now would only result in her shyly leaving. Despite the occupation, that he full well knew that she was involved with, she was so shy when it came to anything that could perceived as an intimate touch. There was more to her than he had seen and he wondered if he would ever see them.

A ridiculous thought that made him cringe. He was not interested in getting into any sort of attachment with anyone. Earnestly he reminded himself of that fact as he lowered himself down on to the armchair, allowing Éponine to settle comfortably atop his chest. He brushed his fingers over hair, wondering idly what it would look like if it was cleaned and brushed out.

This was the closest he would allow himself to be with a woman. The desire to have such a beautiful woman resting upon his chest, had somehow overridden the desire to read the evening away. The feel of another person, of the opposite gender, pressed so pleasantly close to him was a pleasure to his soul that he didn't dare admit to even himself.

If life had proven kinder to Éponine, perhaps he would have wished to take their friendship farther. But, a bold leader of a revolution couldn't in the same breath swear admiration to a street whore. It was a hideous word, yet it described her situation. He cared for her nevertheless. But he kept his emotions noting more the platonic.

Enjolras rested his arm across her waist, leaning back and closing his eyes. He wasn't going to get any work done tonight, but at least he could allow himself a blissful night's rest.

~o~

Notre Dame's bells sounded out that it was five o'clock in the morning.

Enjolras awoke with a start, jolting Éponine awake as well. Éponine stretched and yawned lazily, not realizing that she had slept atop of Enjolras. As her eyes opened she realized that the stony face and dark eyes were not her eyes betraying her – but were in fact Enjolras'.

"Enjolras?" Éponine questioned, crawling away from him as quickly as she could and staring at him with her mouth agape. "What? Why?"

"You fell asleep last night and you wouldn't let go of me." Enjolras rolled his shoulders, stretching out the kink in his back as he stood to his feet. It was convenient that Notre Dame had interrupted their sleep, before anyone came in and saw them asleep. Especially Grantaire, who would never let Enjolras hear the end of a seemingly innocent rest.

"I'm sorry, you should have just woke me up. I didn't mean to."

"It's fine Éponine. I couldn't bear to wake you up, you seemed so blissful. I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries." Enjolras resisted the urge to laugh when he thought of what Éponine got up to every other night of the week and whenever a caller called.

"No, it's not that it's just." Éponine bit her lip, not matter how much she wished that she didn't feel like a deceitful woman playing his emotions for her own gain, she knew that his tender care played perfectly into her plans. And Grantaire's plans.

"Just what?"

Éponine shrugged her shoulders, "Well what if we had been seen? I can hardly imagine what sort of nonsense the boys would have come up with. They would perceive that some evening rendezvous for learning had turned into some passionate night."

"Well, then truly that would be nonsense." Enjolras chuckled, "They are well aware that I am not interested in wasting my time with romance."

Éponine narrowed her eyes, curiously watching Enjolras as he straightened his clothing. "You are interested in women aren't you?"

Enjolras looked up at the young woman. He set his jaw hard, stilling his movements. "I am interested in women. But I find that reading a book detailing some hero's romancing of a beautiful woman, much more fulfilling than trying to woo some stubborn woman. I am satisfied in the life of a bachelor."

"Are you, though?" Éponine asked boldly, before casting her eyes towards the ground. She could feel goose bumps rising on her skin, nervous that he would be furious with her for prying into his private life. And Enjolras was a very private man.

"Éponine." Enjolras' tone was warning as he stepped towards her. He reached out and touched her chin with one finger, tilting it up. Her eyes were still downcast, but her face was directly in front of his. "Look at me."

Éponine looked up, tracing her tongue across her bottom lip, unintentionally. She met his eyes.

"Éponine, I am content to live my life trying to bring freedom to my country. I cannot risk a woman's life in a war, and I cannot waste my time basking in the glory of love making."

"You will die then, unaware of what beauty lay behind the cotton and muslin of a woman's dress? Unaware of the joy that being with another human can bring? Unaware of-"

"Enough! You live your life, selling you wares to the highest bidder. In the night, in the darkened shadows, you find your life pleasing some arrogant man who thinks life is about his pleasure alone."

"If my life had been different, I would have hoped for some handsome suitor to win my heart and beg me to marry him. But instead, I find myself imagining a life that I will never have, every time some exhausted toad, presses his weight against me. I wish I could say no to every single, son of a whore that finds his way to me – but if I don't bring home the cash my father desires from me I'll end up laying in a heap of blood and broken limbs outside of the Inn. Don't even pretend to believe that you understand my life. There is a middle ground between whoring and abstinence."

Enjolras gripped her arm, pulling her closer to him than he had expected. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead he found himself jerking her face close to his and kissing her. The kiss was an awkward mess of anger and eager. He had wondered what it would feel like to kiss a woman, to have her lips pressing against his. But he found that his irritation with her fueled his kiss to be fierce, something he thought should be tried after you've mastered a tender and longing kiss.

Éponine pushed away, her breath rapidly rushing in and out of her lungs. She met Enjolras' gaze with fear. "I didn't mean to make you angry." Her words were barely audible between her panting breaths.

Enjoras pressed his forehead against hers, cringing as he realized what he had done. "I didn't hurt you-"

"No." Éponine shook her head, resting her hand against his shoulder. "I've had far worse." Perhaps not the best thing to say to someone after a heated argument about your occupation.

"You should go or I should go." Enjolras started to pull away from her, but she tightened her grip on his shoulder. "Éponine."

"Let me." Éponine murmured, she leaned forward and captured his lips. Her kiss was a stark contrast to the heated, fumbling, awkward, and angry kiss that he had displayed. Her lips pressed against his, gentle and nervous, slow and steady. She didn't know if he had ever kissed a woman, but he had be unsure and ferocious with his kiss.

Enjolras cupped her cheek as he let her guide his lips. This was what he had imagined kissing would be like, only without the trembling anger that still coursed through his veins because of Éponine. If she hadn't infuriated him he would have been able to enjoy her soft feminine curves and caring touch. It was more pleasant than a good book and a warm fire

This was a kiss, not the assault that he had tried.

Enjolras pulled away and turned away from her, "We can't. Anyone could come in and I don't need that."

"Of course you don't." Éponine snapped, "Because kissing me could tarnish your pristine reputation. But of course, I'm a whore and you'd just be another notch in my bedboard."

"Just go." Enjolras snarled.

"If you'd like to know, I actually care for you!" And the money that I'd get for sleeping with you. It'd be enough to pay off my father and stop having to sell myself.

Enjolras wiped the back of his hand across his lips, they still tingled. "Éponine it would probably be wise for you to not come tonight for a lesson."

"Of course." Éponine replied curtly, "Because I've taught you enough today, haven't I?" Éponine grabbed her hat and rushed out of the café.

A/N: I'm back (: I had a wonderful vacay in the U.K. and got to see Love Never Dies twice!