Chapter 3

Starlight

"And then I ask myself of the many things I find wrong with the sanitary of Jehan and h-he tells me, 'Joly my friend, you are far too nervous'. I am not nervous! I am merely careful!"

Eponine, in her entire life had never met anyone such as Monsieur Joly, he was far from a reproachful man and with that, Eponine found a small ease in his company. Although their walk had not started - for Courfeyrac insisted they wait for Monsieur Enjolras, at which Eponine instantly paled and became frustrated - Joly, had passed the time by first discussing the cleanliness of the bucket Jehan had picked to have Grantaire expel on, then discussing about the grime that covered parts of the Musain with fear that "they will grow mold and what of our systems then?!"

As Joly spoke, Courfeyrac sent a cheeky grin over at the Mademoiselle, examining her anxious face over the warm glow of the lamps that surrounded the lit Musain. This night was a rarity, for although Paris often delivered a frigid cold at night, it was instead, colored with a soft warmth that made Eponine's cheeks cease in their pinkness after the encounter with Monsieur Enjolras.

"What do you think?" Courfeyrac's voice split through both Eponine's musings and Joly's speech in proper cleaning techniques. However, instead of Eponine answering Courfeyrac's humor-mannered question, Joly intercepted.

"What do I think of wool brushes?" Joly mused, confused as to why Courfeyrac would question his opinion on a tool meant only for cleaning. Eponine smiled to herself, inquiring a gaze towards Monsieur Joly. She was not dim witted, in fact, she knew Courfeyrac's question was not necessarily directed to what she thought of the Les Amis, but more of whom he teased her with after they had removed themselves from the upstairs room.

So she chose to completely change the motion of the conversation - and who else to make that happen but Joly himself?

Before Courfeyrac could insist that he did not mean that, Eponine cuts him off. "Yes, Monsieur Joly. Are wool brushes any good? Will they not spread more of the mold since they stick to the ends of the wool? I would think it would rub it even more, since they do not necessarily stick to the material." As Eponine spoke, the incredulity in Courfeyrac's face grew whilst Joly's eyes grew wider as he absorbed the words Eponine had just spun out of desperation.

Sometimes being the daughter of crooks helped her in situations like these.

"Mon dieu, you are right." If Eponine had known, she would not have tossed the ball to Joly, for instead of going out of his mind and blabbering on after Eponine's opinion on wool brushes, he suddenly quieted, lost in his thoughts with little whispers escaping his mouth, as if he were already thinking of alternatives on keeping wood mold free.

"There was an effort to quiet me, mademoiselle." Courfeyrac laughed across her, loosening his cravat all the whilst. "But it did not work."

Eponine found herself narrowing her eyes, placing herself closer towards Joly in an effort to avoid the conversation she knew Courfeyrac was about to hold. But instead of questioning her about her initial reactions to the arrogant, Enjolras, he instead smiled, teeth and all at her direction, and asked her this:

"What were your intentions when you took the papers off of our leader's book?"

Eponine stood aghast.

Sure, she is not proud of the effects of having to live and be raised by thieves. But it did not escape her notice that when she was snatched off of the streets, the rat in her had began to lose the touch of a little pick-pocketing when needed be. She supposed she should feel the guilt of taking what is Enjolras', but it is in good curious nature that she did. It was not like she was to sell it for a loaf of bread.

At this point, Joly had quieted, instead he focused his weary eyes on Eponine, as if she were a germ ready to infest the man's coat.

"I-I did nothing of the sort."

Eponine said defiantly, nose turned up and a scowl on her chapped, pink lips.

"Oh but you did Mademoiselle. I am quite aware of what you can hide in a mademoiselle's skirt, not only that, but I saw the snippet of papers when you clambered up with Grantaire and into the cafe - but that is not what I am stressing here. You took pages off of his book - but why?"

Eponine ignored the comments on her skirts, and instead glared at Courfeyrac, her eyes falsely glowering like flames from the reflective light that surrounded the cafe. It was quiet for a few seconds before Eponine answered.

"I will not turn anyone in. I am merely investigating."

"Investigating?" Joly questioned, confused at her words.

"Oh for god's sakes, I am curious and it is better to take the lot of pages than everything is it not? Monsieur will not notice the missing pages, that book of his is as thick as a loaf of bread."

"Bahorel thinks it resembles more of a brick."

"Courf, I think I mentioned that comparison to Bahorel and he took it right from my mouth."

"But was it not Jehan that enumera - "

"This is beside the point!" Eponine looked exasperated at the two grown students becoming distracted by the turn of the conversation.

"I apologize but I assure you mademoiselle, it was I that should be credited for the brick, comment. Carry on." Eponine rolled her eyes at Courfeyrac and proceeded to roll back into her anxious self. It was quite late, and she had forgotten the pocket watch she usually kept near her when she went about the city.

"How long must we wait? The night is deepening and if I do not get home by now, monsieur, I may as well be chained into the depths of my home. I can very well take care of myself, I could walk on and - "

The glow that shone brightly on Eponine's face was immediately shrouded by a passing shadow. Tall and statuesque, a scowling Enjolras walked past her and into the far left flank of Joly.

"Do you ever stop talking?" He muttered, cold eyes set on Eponine's figure.

"Excusez moi?" Eponine's harangue reply seemed as if it was coated in fire and Joly particularly had widened his eyes at the fiery mademoiselle who seemingly grew larger as her temper rose.

Enjolras however, merely stood taller and walked on. Eponine glared at his towering stature, cursing the arrogant and incensed man in her head all the whilst. Who was he to speak down to her? She was Eponine Thernadier - well, Louis, now, but she does not allow herself to be spoken to in such a way, despite her being an acceptable part of society now. As they neared a particular puddle, one that she knew had a deep fixture, she considered pushing the arrogant man into it, but the thought of his blonde curls melting away in the grime had done that thought good, for it banished completely. It was vain of her, yes, but she could not deny that Enjolras was a beautiful man, and despite his infuriating nature, she selfishly did not want to rid herself of the beauty all because she was angry at him.

She supposes that stealing the pages from his book was enough of a revenge for now.

Eponine blabbered on.

She spoke and she spoke, her conversations particularly pointed to Joly, the man who she concluded, seemed to be happy enough to comply her on. She found out that Joly had a mistress and that he shared a flat with another of the Amis. She completely missed the name for she was a bit occupied on eyeing Enjolras, silently wishing that he was annoyed at her exaggerated talkative nature. He stayed mute, though she entertained herself with comparing him to an irate feline, imagining the blonde curls of his to rise up in indignation every time she spoke more words. It was what entertained her, really, to get a rise out of the man who so arrogantly had practically told her to shut up mere minutes after they had met.

But when Eponine decided that she should expand her volume as well, Enjolras seized his steps immediately and Joly, in the midst of telling her about the difference between a common cold and a house cold, bumped right into his back and stumbled backwards.

"Oh Enjolras, sorry!" Joly immediately apologized, a bit perplexed as to why the man had ceased walking.

Eponine almost smiled, if it were not for the fact that flustered and annoyed blue eyes now stabbed right unto her brown ones.

"Joly, Courfeyrac, walk ahead of us. The mademoiselle and I must speak."

His stoic demand did wonders, for without questions, the two walked on. Joly sent her a small look from behind his shoulder, but before he could speak, Courfeyrac grasped his shoulder and urged him to look forward.

It was quiet as the pair walked on. The weather that had proved to be promising turned to be a liar from the beginning, it seemed that the closer they moved towards Eponine's home, the more frigid the weather turned. It was either that or the stoic nature of Enjolras had influenced even the weather to bend to his will.

The silence stretched on and Eponine's silence made her realize that Enjolras had not wanted to converse, but instead walked with her for the sole reason to shut her up even more. For who is she to speak to now that Joly and Courfeyrac were ahead of them?

Eponine cleared her throat.

Silence.

Eponine cleared her throat once more.

Silence.

Before Eponine could clear her throat a third time, Enjolras ceased his steps and looked down to her defiant eyes.

"What is it?"

Eponine's face melted into one of stoicism and she stood up higher, on her tip toes as she scowled at him in turn.

"Joly, Courfeyrac, I must speak with the Mademoiselle." Eponine's already low timbre of voice had gone even lower, as if to reach the same treble Enjolras spoke with when he did speak (apart from his speeches.)

Enjolras' eyebrow merely rose high and his lips twitched at her imitation, but after that, said no more.

He looked ahead once more, proceeded his strides, albeit slower as if to encourage her to keep up with him.

Eponine deflated immediately, letting out the the air she sucked in to make herself appear as broad shouldered as Enjolras. The familiar constrict of her corset immediately made her chest cease up and she scowled now too, annoyed at the blasted undergarment. But she did not have time to muse, for Enjolras had taken a bit of a distance between them and she hurried to catch on with the man.

"You are infuriating you know?" She said as soon as she was matching his strides once more. She tried to mismatch her steps and her swinging arms so they did not synchronize, but whenever she tried to they fell into a rhythm in their steps once more.

Enjolras looked on with his stormy blue eyes, his gaze did not linger on her or anything but ahead.

"Are you feeling content over the course of the way the King leads France?" His reply was a dismissive one, he did not reply to Eponine's question, but instead, seized the reigns of the conversation in his large hands and fiery nature.

Eponine stopped her ill humor in a sudden realization that he is certainly this passionate about his uprising - she wanted to mock him, for she knew that a bourgeois boy like he couldn't possibly be serious. He was a conundrum of fire and innocence all at once, she concluded.

The shadows in his eyes and the youthful planes of his terribly handsome face confused Eponine to no end, for when the shadows of the slums of Paris hit him just right, he looked like a young, defiant lion of a man - but when the light of the sun shone against his stoic features, he looked like a young boy in birth of spring.

But it seems like her silence had been interpreted by Enjolras completely and his snort had caused Eponine to cease her thoughts on his confusing character.

"Or have you no opinion, mademoiselle? Are you quite content to not see the hungry beggars at your shined shoes?"

Eponine was wrong, he was not a man that resembled an older spirit in a young man's brave heart, he was a complete salaud. He is crass and not shy of his words.

"Monsieur, you must take a break from your idealist ideas and open your eyes. Your passion for egalite have surpassed your ability to be less of a salaud." Her words were harsh and spitting right out of her clenched teeth and Eponine urged herself to not spit right at his face.

Enjolras however, had stopped once more, his head swiveled right towards her infuriated face at the word that escaped the mademoiselle's mouth. For a lack of better word, Enjolras was baffled. At this point, Eponine's home was mere feet away and in her anger, she planned to storm off into the surrounding wall, but she had gotten the tips of her mules caught on the pavement and she stumbled forward. Enjolras however, had quickly grasped her arm, saving her from a bad fall.

Eponine did not forgive easily, however. She snatched her arm right from the arrogant man's hands, scowling angrily at his countenance. In a stem of curses, Eponine had hitched the skirt of her dress up to expose her ankles, ripped off the offending pastel-carnation mules and muttered more curses that Enjolras continued to be baffled with.

A mademoiselle she was indeed, one with a colorful vocabulary that surpassed an inebriated Grantaire.

"I have had it with this mules and your arrogance, Monsieur Enjolras. Good night!" With her skirt on her tightly-fisted hands, she stormed ahead of him, past an astounded Joly and into Courfeyrac.

"I will see you tomorrow." Eponine said to Courfeyrac before she walked on towards a gated maison, turned towards the wall that surrounded it, placed her foot on a brick-less nook and scaled it with a practiced grace.

Enjolras then stood quietly, now with his lips tightly molded into one of annoyance and guilt as he willed his gaze to travel past the gates of the maison and into the infuriatingly lovely Eponine Louis.

"Tomorrow it is then." Courfeyrac announced mockingly, sending a look towards Enjolras that fueled him to stride forward and into his flat.

YIKES

Well wasn't Enjolras and Eponine struck in a moment of breathless delight with each other? (HA!) I hope I didn't make Enjolras too much of an arse, but brick Enjolras can be a bit of a snark, can he? I don't want to rush the future romantic interaction between E et E, but you know, they probably would not immediately cling into each other like hungry sharks and fall in love at first breath.

And I hope I didn't completely shadow Eponine's character, despite her being well-off due to her being the daughter of Javert. I even added a bit of her character in it that was inspired from the brick. (Eponine wanted to drown herself but she thought it was cold so she didn't = Eponine thought of pushing Enjolras into a puddle, but didn't, because that would ruin his angelic features.)

R&R please! Last chapter I didn't get any reviews (was it because it was Javert eccentric?) but had follows. Hopefully I can update quicker than usual, I don't want anyone growing bored or anything.