With the combined factors of Lynette's persistence and Enjolras's reluctance to fight it anymore, they were packed and ready to leave by the time the sun had set. They managed to find available transportation despite the fact that all of this was so last minute, and ordered it for the next morning—or, to be exact, Lynette ordered it while Enjolras stood by silently in a brooding sulk—before turning in for the evening.
The nightmares never left him. Every night they visited him with saturnine visions of corpses lying on a wooden castle... fallen angels strewn—cold and bloody—on the skeleton of a long dead dream. He hadn't told Lynette how vividly and frequently they haunted him; he didn't want to worry her any more than he already had in his many months of healing after that fatal night. He had not had one night of respite since the day the barricade fell, and luckily for him there had only been a handful of occasions where he'd woken Lynette up with his slumbering struggles... but this mostly stemmed from the fact that most times he snapped awake, choking with fear and sorrow—paralyzed and hardly breathing. And that night was no exception, apart from the fact that his father also made a cameo as the Army General.
Needless to say, he did not get much sleep.
When Lynette woke, he simply pretended he too had just gotten up, though it had actually been several hours since he'd been in bed. She had been somewhat gratified when she saw him up and about; apparently the only thing she had been concerned about was what she would do if he refused to get up—being unable to drag him with his being so robust. He couldn't help but grumble when he heard this—it would not have been a bad idea, and it hadn't even crossed his mind—to which she responded with an amused, "Well, it seems I have been conjuring up retaliatory maneuvers more than you have been fabricating the expected onslaughts; I'm terribly sorry I doubted you!"
And now, a few hours later, they were loading up the last of their trunks onto the carriage and climbing inside to embark on their journey to Saint-Saëns.
Enjolras looked much like a child who had been denied cake before his supper as he sank pessimistically into the seat. Lynette was quick to notice.
"You're not climbing the scaffolding. You're visiting the people who raised you. Stop looking so dejected," she said, rolling her eyes. She didn't know why she continued in her attempts to assuage him when they all ended in nothing but fresh scowls on his part. Nothing she said was going to make him abruptly inadverse to the fact that they'd be arriving at the Enjolras estate by sundown.
"I might as well be. For my father will have my head at least once before we return to Paris; you mark my words," he responded darkly, glaring out the window as if the glass was the subject of acrimony himself. She sighed, putting her head on his shoulder. "Consider them marked," she began, "though even if he does, it will serve as nothing but a fortification to your strength."
He continued to gaze out the window, glowering silently. She huffed; her patience with his childish pretense was wearing thin. "Look; do you think it was easy for me to return home to my family—to my aunt—when you wanted to ask my mother's permission to marry me? Do you not think I too wanted to boycott silently as we walked toward the very place I'd always found myself running away from? But because I respect your judgment, and—God damn it—love you more than life itself, I put on a brave face and knocked on that door without putting up a fight. So if you trust me even half as much as I do you; you'll sit up, look me in the eyes, and tell me that I'm not going to have to face this by myself because you couldn't put up with him one last time," she finished austerely, her sea-green eyes waiting to lock with his as soon as he dared turn his head. And he did, his expression softening considerably as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "God, woman..." he murmured with a chuckle, "I know you can smack something fierce, but even when not physically you know how to slap sense back into a man."
Lynette smirked triumphantly, leaning into him. "You're just realizing this now?"
"Of course not," he muttered amusedly before pressing his lips to hers. She kissed him back with a smile, and she could have sighed in relief had her lips not been otherwise occupied; it seemed he was distracted for the time being from his indignant affliction. "Oh, good..." she mumbled in between kisses, "as if you had, I might have just had to punish you."
He chuckled again; though this one sounded a bit more irresolute, as it usually did when something she said or did tested his self-will and restraint. And now she'd gone and done not just one or the other, but both simultaneously. She fought a giggle of her own.
"Do your worst, Mademoiselle... I will not be broken," he breathed in response after a moment, and she swore she could have reached out and touched the audacity coating his tone. She was surprised at the daring statement; he knew as well as she did that she never backed down from a challenge. And this was no exception... he'd openly appealed to her pride, now. And he wasn't going to get away with that without her giving a little reprisal in return.
"You've gone and done it now..." she whispered teasingly before kissing him once more. But soon she intensified her movements, snaking her fingers through his hair and pulling him as close as their rather confined positions would allow. He responded by mirroring her fervency, wrapping one arm around her waist and placing the other on the back of her head, pressing her completely against him. She nearly smirked; he may have the morals and control of a marble bust, but even he could not retain his composure at all times. But all of her smugness disappeared with a surprisingly diffident blush when she suddenly felt his tongue shyly begging entrance to her mouth. It was rather funny to her; it was something that could be considered quite scandalous for an unmarried couple, and yet he did it so with such courtesy and timidity that she couldn't help but grant him access with an inward chuckle of, 'Always the gentleman...'
And yet as their tongues entwined and she tasted him for the very first time, she let out a very unladylike moan before tipping her head back so she could have a moment to catch her breath and recoup her dignity. But as she did, he suddenly swept her up onto his lap and began kissing her neck with a zeal he had never used before. She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut despite herself, and subconsciously extended it further so that he might more easily assail the tender skin. And the tiny, discreet submission was encouragement enough for him; he immediately burrowed his face in the crook of her neck and continued on passionately.
Lynette sat there—positively entranced—for several moments before taking his face in her hands and bringing it back up to her lips once more. The desperateness with which their mouths clung to each other could potentially—had they been bold enough to present a display of this level of intimate affection in public—make one watching think that if they stopped, by some greater force, they would both be struck dead on the spot. But thankfully, none such spectators existed and their were alone in their devotion.
Neither could tell for certain how long this went on, but after a while Enjolras pulled away with a gasp, his breathing laborious as he fought to convalesce his practicality. It didn't help matters that Lynette instantly moved to kiss his jaw, but he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered, "Netta... we need to stop."
He could feel her mouth stretch into a smile as she perceived his arduous caveat, and she responded by tracing one of the veins of his neck, making him tense even farther as he battled against his desires. "And why on earth," she hissed coquettishly, "would we do that?"
It took everything in his willpower to take her face and simply look her in the eyes instead of kissing her again, but somehow he did indeed manage. "Because," he began matter-of-factly, probing her lovely, oceanic eyes with his own, smoldering brown ones, "we are on our way—at your urging, may I add—to visit my God-fearing parents... and... look at your position," he culminated, gesturing with a slight blush to her legs, which had wound themselves around his torso. She stared at them for a moment with a flush of her own, then scrambled off his lap as if something had bitten her—which, with the way things had been going, something probably had. "Mon dieu..." she muttered, staring down in discomfiture for a moment. He couldn't help but chuckle, then reached over to trace her swelled lips with his thumb. "Mon dieu is right..."
"Well, for the record, you started it," she stated suddenly.
"Now look who's acting like the child?" he smirked, "How so? Because if I remember correctly, you initiated it..."
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him. "Well you were the one who said, 'I will not be broken', aren't you? And you know me well enough that you understand that I never back down when confronted in such a way... even if indirectly!"
Enjolras laughed in spite of himself; kissing the top of her head prudently but playfully. "Indeed I do... and—I must admit— you did break me, there. Almost completely shattered my self-control. Congratulations."
Another blush crept onto her cheeks, but the most prevalent feature on her face was, of course, her triumphant grin. "I am like you in the way that my pride is unconquerable, and you must be careful when you trifle with it. So I thank you for that," she laughed. He was about to make a teasing comment about her accusation concerning his pride, but decided that they had become disheveled enough as a result of that last impish exchange and that it was probably best not to push it any farther. "Of course, ma cherie," he chuckled instead, putting his arm around her shoulders, "Now; it's probably best we both get some rest. We've got a long journey ahead of us... and an even longer visit subsequent."
A/N: Ooh... things were getting steamy up in da carriage... XD But don't worry guys; both Lynette and Enjolras are pretty traditional... I wasn't about to pull a Jack'n'Rose: The Mizzie Edition.
Sorry this is a day late; I meant to actually get it out EARLY as a celebration of my finals being over! :( Perhaps I'll try to get the next chapter out early instead... where they finally. Arrive. At the Enjolras. Estate. *studio audience gasps*
R&R, my lovelies! Go ahead and chastise me for my slight steaminess! I'll probably still end up writing it anyway. ;) ~DonJuana