A/N: I have rewritten and rewritten this chapter. It appears I have written myself into a rock and a hard place. As long as Enjy's there I'm good, but. Gah.

Éponine was determined to tell Enjolras the truth. Come heaven or hell she couldn't bear to keep what she was doing a secret. She couldn't bear the thought of letting go and sleeping with him, only to have the truth revealed. It would make the whole experience null and void. Though she might care for him, fancy him even, he wouldn't see it that way anymore. She'd ruin everything.

But the flip side was what would happen if she did tell him? What reason did she have to say that he wouldn't leave her anyways? She didn't know what she would do if she lost him. She had already lost any chance with Marius and now, if it were Enjolras she lost-

She couldn't even bear it.

"Enjolras?" She timidly called as she entered the café, seeing only Grantaire passed out in one of the chairs.

"He's not here."

"Where is he?"

"He's gone home." Grantaire sat up in the chair and stretched. "So he tells me that you've kissed him."

"Yes well, it's part of the plan isn't it?"

"Ah-ha!" Grantaire clapped his hands together joyously, "I knew it!"

"He didn-" Éponine tossed a book at him, "Dirty rotten liar."

"The one who's paying the bill."

"Don't say that out loud." Éponine snapped, eyeing the door cautiously. "I don't need the world to know. Or Enjolras."

"How far are you getting?" Grantaire asked curiously, sitting up all ears.

"I'll tell you when it happens."

Grantaire smirked, "You really like him don't you?"

"What's not to like? He's handsome, smart, sweet…" Éponine sighed, "Everything I don't deserve. I just don't need you telling him that you've paid me to have sex with him."

"Well then do it, and do it well. Don't you want to see our dear friend Enjolras enter into the realm of real men?"

"What I don't want to see is a good man have his heart broken. He lives his life in books, I'd hate to see this rip him apart. Because of me." Éponine frowned, "I should go."

"To see him?"

"I… I don't know." Éponine turned away, heading towards the door. Once she stepped outside she would have to decide whether or not to do it. To go or not to go?

~o~

She stood before the door to the garret that she knew housed Enjolras. She had come this far and she still wasn't sure whether or not she should knock on the door and open a new kettle of fish. With a deep breath and a silent prayer Éponine knocked on the door.

She heard a shuffle and footsteps towards the door, enough time for her to dart back down the staircase and vanish into the night. But instead the door swung open and Enjolras stood before her; cravat loosened around his neck, laces undone to his white shirt and tucked from his black trousers. She gulped slightly, "Hello."

"Éponine," Enjolras quickly moved his hands to tuck in his shirt, trying to correct his unkempt look. He had only been reading in his armchair, trying desperately to vanquish her from his thoughts. The book he had chosen was a dark romance that left nothing to the readers imagination. Her image had taken the shape of the female. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I am sorry, I was nearby and I decided to drop by." She lowered her eyes. "Who am I to lie?"

"If I did not fear your parent's interference I would have come to the Inn."

"I was ill all day with all of this."

Enjolras nodded his head, "Are you better?"

"Now."

He smiled, looking between her and the garret, "Where are my manners? Come in."

"I, oh, thank you." Éponine stepped inside, admiring the well-furnished and tidy flat. "I wondered what this place looked like."

"And?"

"It's very nice."

Enjolras smiled, "You look beautiful tonight."

Éponine blushed, smiling up at the handsome man. "You look handsome."

"I know I'm green in respect to all of this, but I don't want to overstep a boundary." Enjolras pushed back a dark curl from her cheek.

"I wish that I could be as innocent as you," Éponine brushed her hand across his cheek, rising up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. "

Enjolras rested his hands on her waist, pulling her close to him. He was pleasantly surprised to find her tugging out the hem of his shirt, her cool hands against his warm chest. He wanted this more than he had ever wanted anything else. He wanted to possess her.

Éponine fought eternally as she physically responded to every little part of Enjolras She wanted to tell him, but at the same time she found that it would be so easy to stay silent. And she was planning on it.

His shirt was suddenly gone and in the same moment he was pulling free the laces of her bodice. The soft flesh of a woman felt so very different from the turned down edges of a novel. The rough, coarse parchment beneath his fingers. It felt like heaven. He could see, just why, women were described as intoxicating. He could drown in her.

Éponine ran her hands along his warm, well-toned chest. He was so very different from any of the older men, friends of her father, older and over weight – hardly any youthful muscle left in them. Then there was Montparnasse, wiry and spindly. He was handsome but ever since their first time together, he was a ruthless bed partner.

"Promise me," Éponine murmured between kisses, "that you will always," she pulled away slightly, "stay like this."

"Like what?"

"Gentle and shy."

Enjolras chuckled, "I promise." He carefully pulled the bodice away from her, letting it slide down her arms. "Come with me." He whispered, heavily breathing. He took her head and led her to his bedroom.

Éponine bit her lip, she had decided that she would stay silent. There was nothing, not even her Godsend Grantaire, would do to keep her from letting her brightest fantasy play out. She shivered with anticipation to be with someone who wanted her for who she was. Even if she was a whore.

She would feel the weight of what she had done in the morning and the morning was a long way away.

A/N: Well? *hides*