"'Ponine." The name caught her off guard, and despite the deep breathiness of the voice, she half expected to turn around and see Cosette behind her. At the sight of the familiar cherry lips and slicked-back hair, she pursed her lips and tried to push through the crowd to avoid him.

However, she forgot about the door to the south stairwell, and suddenly found herself yanked through the doorway. She yelped as her Biology textbook fell from the crook of her arms and hit her toe with the sharp corner. Montparnasse, his face half-hidden by shadow, spoke, "Explain."

"I have nothing to explain to you." She insisted, and went to exit the stairwell. His thin arm snaked out and hit the wall to the side of her face, trapping her in his view.

"I think you do. Where have you been for the past week? Who are you fucking?" He sneered as he said the last part. Éponine mock-pouted.

"Aw, 'Parnasse! Are you jealous? That's too sweet." She lifted her hand, trying to hide the trembling, and laid it on his greasy cheek. "But I've got to go." Once again, she tried to get away, but Montparnasse grabbed her bag and pulled her back.

"I don't think so. You shouldn't be so rude to me, 'Ponine." His face was dangerously close to hers, his foul breath seeping through the stale air between them and infiltrating her nostrils. She cringed, and he noticed, smirking.

"Don't call me that."

"Oh, little 'Ponine." He cooed, raising a dirty finger to trace it down her cheek. She pulled away, but he stepped forwards so that her bag was pressed against the wall and his chest was against hers. He roughly cupped her chin in his hands and kissed her, almost tenderly. He broke their kiss and left his plump lips ghosting her chapped ones. "You know what I can do."

"Is that a threat?" She breathed, too dizzy from lack of fresh air to think properly.

"Maybe." He released her and she adjusted the straps on her bag, uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was still blocking the door.

"Well, it's an empty one." She said, smugly. He raised a surprisingly well-groomed eyebrow at her. "You would never hurt me." She actually smiled when she saw his smirk fade from his face.

"Well, if you continue fucking that little good-doers club then I will. You underestimate me, darling."

"I'm not fucking any of them." She snapped. His smirk returned. He got what he evidentially wanted: her to lose her cool. "And anyway," she tried flirting to get away, stepping close to him and tracing her pointer finger along his weak neck. "If it came to that, it's ten against one, 'Parnasse." She put her mouth close to his ear, sneaking her hand behind his back and getting a good grasp on the handle. "This is one fight you can't win."

She jumped away, pulling the door open with her. Montparnasse, caught off guard, stumbled back and she shot a final triumphant look in his direction. He frowned at her, a strange fire still alight in his eyes.

"You're a little bitch." He spat at her. She flipped her tangled ponytail over her shoulder.

"I know."

"Uh… Jondrette… Do you think this is appropriate for Gavroche?" Enjolras asked. He was in a bad enough mood, having been forced to sit down and endure a How I Met Your Mother marathon with Grantaire and the Jondrette siblings. Grantaire was absolutely horrified that Éponine had never seen the show. She'd responded seriously, telling him that she'd never had a television on which to watch it. When Enjolras jokingly asked why Grantaire wasn't surprised he hadn't seen it, Grantaire had shrugged and said that it was expected of 'Apollo'.

Éponine snorted, running her hand through the sleeping Gavroche's hair. "You've seen our lives and you still ask that? Besides, he's asleep."

Grantaire had left twenty minutes prior, his parents actually enforcing his Friday night curfew of eleven. Éponine, enjoying the show, left it playing on the flat screen, and Enjolras was too tired to get up from the plush couch in the living room. In the episode that was currently on, Barney was telling Marshall about 'The Mermaid Theory'. The theory claims that every woman, no matter how initially repulsive, has a set amount of time before a male finds her attractive. The phenomenon was akin to the sighting of 'mermaids' by horny sailors who would mistake manatees for beautiful women.

Éponine, her eyes locked on the screen, mused, "I wonder when my timer will run out. I hope it doesn't run out for everyone at the same time. Otherwise the boys would come running and knock down your door."

Enjolras rolled his eyes, stretching his stiff limbs. "It's complete bull shit." He stood, cracking his back and his neck. Without another word, he stooped down and gathered Gavroche in his arms.

"You don't have to do that. Just leave him there." Éponine yawned. He said nothing, just giving Éponine a small, tired smile before going to leave the room. "Hey, Enjolras!" She called, suddenly. She climbed over the back of the couch and slid in her socks (actually Enjolras' mother's, but he didn't need to know that) to the base of the stairwell.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice hushed. He shifted Gavroche's limp body so that the boy hung off his shoulder. She bit her lip before asking what she wanted to.

"When will my timer run out for you?"

He groaned in exasperation. "I told you, Jondrette. That theory is bullshit."

She sighed, a strangely disappointed feeling surfacing in her. "I'll take that as a never." She said, to herself, not realizing that they foyer's acoustics allowed Enjolras to hear as well.

He wanted to say something to her, but thought better of it and continued to Gavroche's room.

The darkness folded around Enjolras as he shuffled down the wide hallway. Had he made this midnight quest two weeks prior, he would have been walking faster in fear of the loneliness enveloping him and swallowing him whole, throwing him into the silent shadows when there was no one around to hear his anguished cries.

However, as he eased his way to the staircase, he could hear the distant noises from the game room as Gavroche played late into the night and he was well aware of the discarded jacket hanging over the railing. Although he liked things to be neat, he made no move to clean it, for it made this large house seem like a home.

He flipped on the switch to the living room light and he saw a small figure curled on the bench in front of the grand piano. Long, reddish-brown hair tumbled down her back and her hand was fluttering over the keys as if she wanted to press them. She didn't look up when the light turned on, instead she grunted to let him know that she knew he was there.

"It's a school night." He commented. When he didn't get a response, he asked, "Do you play?"

She looked up, her tired eyes surprised at the question. "Excuse me?" she asked. He indicated the piano. "Oh. No." she said, and then looked up almost shyly, not meeting his eyes. "Do you?"

He guffawed. "No. My dad tried to teach me, but that didn't work out."

"I can play one song." She said, proudly. He stepped close to her, encouraging her to try. Éponine's small fingers began to tap out a sloppy 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'. She finished, moving her wrists in a 'tada' movement.

"Wonderful." He clapped a few times to show his appreciation. She gave him a tight smile, almost as if she was afraid to physically show the pride that was gleaming in her eyes.

He moved past her to get to the kitchen, but not before placing his hand on her for a few seconds. Her delicate shoulder seemed like it was going to break under his large hand. So he released her quickly and entered the other room. He pulled open a cabinet door and rummaged until he found a box of his guilty pleasure. He quickly poured himself a bowl. When he put the milk back, he closed the refrigerator door to see Éponine standing there. He jumped and placed a hand over his heart.

"Jesus, Jondrette. Don't do that." He snapped. It was two in the morning: way too early to be scared. She breezed past him and copied his exact movements, pouring herself a bowl of cereal as well. She perched on the granite island in the center of the room and eyed him.

"Who would've guessed that the high-and-mighty Enjolras would like eating Fruity Pebbles at two in the morning." She shoved a full spoonful in her mouth and chewed, thoughtfully.

Once he finished his own bite, he responded, "I am not high-and-mighty."

She made a face at him but said nothing, instead shoveling the colorful flakes into her mouth with a fresh gusto. In the dim kitchen light, her skin seemed to shine with an ethereal glow. Her mane of hair tumbled down her shoulders, one of which was bare. Her collarbones were very pronounced and surprisingly strong. The shirt she was wearing was comically big and bright red. With a start, Enjolras realized that it was his shirt. Her lithe legs were swinging, her heels hitting the island with soft thuds. His eyes followed her legs only to see that her bottoms were black boxers- were those his boxers?- and he looked away, blushing furiously.

Something about the sight of her sitting in his kitchen, wearing his clothes and eating his favorite cereal stirred something inside him. He felt as though there was a heavy weight on his chest, causing his breathing to become ragged. His heart felt full enough to burst, struggling against the prison of his rib cage. His head felt stuffed with cotton and his palms grew sweaty around his bowl.

She swallowed loudly, drawing him out of his thoughts. He looked down at his bowl, only to see that the cereal had grown soggy. He sighed and went over to the sink, dumping the colorful glop into the garbage disposal. Éponine reached around him and put her bowl in the sink. Her shoulder unconsciously brushed the base of his shoulder blades and he started at the touch. She didn't seem to notice, though, and she was at the doorway when she spoke to him.

"Goodnight, see you in the morning."

He turned to watch as her figure disappeared. A single word resonated in his mind.

Mine.

And he didn't know to what his subconscious was referring.

A/N: So, in case any of you are confused with the timing for this, the scenes at the beginning occured on the Friday after the last chapter. The last little bit happened on Sunday night.

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