Éponine woke to find that it was only her and Enjolras in the upstairs room of the Musain now. She sat up, as quietly as she could, letting his jacket fall from where it was draped over her front down onto her lap.
"Morning." Enjolras joked quietly from his desk under the candlelight. Éponine laughed, blowing air through her nose, unfurling her legs out from under her.
"Where is everyone?" She asked, but Enjolras never looked up from his papers.
"Marius left just after you fell asleep. Combeferre and Courfeyrac took Gavroche back to their apartment. He was still sleeping soundly, even when they carried him out of the door."
Éponine raised her eyebrows. "Why did they take him?"
"None of us know where he stays, and we couldn't leave him here. It's past closing time, we shouldn't even be here."
"Very well." Éponine stood up, and held Enjolras' jacket in her hand. He still hadn't turned to look at her, his hand furiously writing as he worked on something. A speech, maybe. Éponine thought to herself, Or perhaps a letter.
Slowly, she crept up to him, his back still turned. She was used to sneaking up on people, it was part of the job description.
Éponine successfully stood behind him without catching his attention, and had to stifle a giggle when he jumped slightly after she put her hand on the back of his chair. She leaned down, her breast pressing gently against his shoulder.
"What are you doing, Monsieur?" She asked, her breath whispering past his ear. Enjolras could feel her pressing on his shoulder, his body rigid, and it stiffened even more when her hot breath tickled the shell of his ear.
"I'm writing a letter, Mademoiselle." He replied, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. Damn it. He cursed himself in his thoughts.
Éponine nodded, and found she couldn't speak in fear of bursting out with laughter in this poor man's ear. So, clutching his jacket tight one last time, she hung it on the back of his chair, and kissed his cheek quickly, straightening up.
"Thank you for your jacket, sir." She whispered, before bolting out of the room, and down the stairs, into the cold, dark alleyway.
Her fingers ghosted over her lips as she remembered the feel of his cheek. The skin was soft and warm, but Enjolras' jaw was hard, and she recalled how tense he was when she got so close to him. She smiled, at her ability to have this effect on him, but at the same time, she wished he would have been slightly more responsive.
Enjolras' cheek tingled as Éponine's soft lips felt like they'd never even left his skin. There was still some moisture sitting on his cheek, and his mind raced with a million thoughts. He slowly reached back for the warm jacket sitting on the back of his chair, and rose to his feet, pulling it on. He gripped the back of the chair, his knuckles whitening as he let out a puff of air through his mouth.
This girl was going to be the death of him.
"Who do you fight for?" Someone called in the café, as Enjolras stood upon a table, rallying his fellow revolutionaries, practicing for his next speech.
"The people!" Enjolras replied, his clenched fist raised in the air.
"And who is your mistress?" Éponine recognised this voice as Grantaire. It sounded like it was more of a tease than anything, but Enjolras still gave a gallant answer, determined not to be put down.
"Patria!" He looked at Éponine when he said this.
She hated to admit it, but there was a sharp pang in her chest as he said that. Two men, she thought, two men that will never feel the same way about me as I do about them. She was sitting at a table, her head propped up on her hand as she watched Enjolras stride about on the tabletops. Marius was sitting next to her, but she hadn't made much conversation with him that evening, due to his frantic letter writing.
"Éponine?" Marius nudged her, and she pulled her eyes away from Enjolras' long legs, which strode with purpose among the students' heads.
"Hm?" Came her reply, and she sat up, clearing her throat.
"Would you deliver this letter to Cosette for me?" He asked, and Éponine fought the extremely strong urge to say I'm not your factrice, pour l'amour de Dieu! and roll her eyes.
She had recently helped Marius find out where Cosette lived, and since then, they had been sending letters back and forth to each other, like two schoolchildren passing notes in the back of a class.
Enjolras had cold-heartedly mocked her for doing it, resulting in a heated argument which ended with Éponine storming away from him.
"You're only adding fuel to the fire between them." Enjolras pointed out, spitefully, after Marius had given Éponine a letter to deliver to Rue Plumet.
"What?" She'd heard him, but she couldn't believe he was being so plain about it.
"I'm just saying. You're only doing this because you're in love with him, but what you're doing is just helping him fall deeper in love with another girl."
Éponine could have backhanded him there and then, in front of everyone. Instead, she remembered her decorum, and spoke lowly.
"I don't care for your opinion, sir. What I do for other people, what I feel for them, how I choose to show my affections, is none of your business. Do you understand me, Monsieur?" She didn't give him a chance to reply, as she got up abruptly from her chair, and stomped out of the Musain.
She hadn't spoken to him since.
"Okay." Éponine acquiesced, almost snatching the letter from Marius' hands. She usually got a few sous out of it anyway, but she had to hide her identity, in fear that Cosette might recognise her from their childhood.
"Letter for Mademoiselle Fauchelevent." Éponine spoke in a low voice through the large iron gates that stood in between her and Cosette. She slipped the thin envelope through, and pulled her cap down tighter around her ears, trying to hide the one long strand of hair that always came loose.
"Thank you, boy." Cosette took the letter, exchanging it for two sous. Éponine nodded, and waited for Cosette to go and get the letter for Marius from her house.
Éponine silently picked at the threads on her chemise, vowing never to do this again. Although hurt by Enjolras' words, she had taken heed of them, and every single one of them was true. She was only kindling the fire between the two, and although she knew it seemed spiteful, she would stop, because she didn't want to become any further involved with it.
She gave an awkward bow before she took off back to the Musain to find Marius, and give him his letter. There was no doubt that, after reading it, he would immediately take to writing another one.
All of the students teased him, likening him to a love stricken little girl, yearning for her prince to come. He'd even earned the nickname Petite Princesse, which Éponine knew he only had himself to blame for, constantly fawning adoration over Cosette - sometimes in the middle of an important meeting - which, as could be easily guessed, agitated Enjolras.
Of course, that still didn't stop the hurt she felt over him. Seeing him so happy writing and receiving these letters made her happy, of course, but knowing that she was not the cause of his grinning and beaming was heart wrenching.
The buzz that filled the Musain before she'd left had now been amplified. Éponine could hardly hear herself think as she waded through everyone, wondering what was going on.
"Gavroche, what's happened?" She asked the little gamin, who was sitting on a table, surrounded by students talking rapidly.
"Ain't you heard?" Éponine's confused face urged him to go on. "General Lamarque's dead!"
A/N: God this chapter was terrible. I'm sorry. But, as I said beforehand: it's all bridging. Stuff starts kicking off after this chapter, as we all know it does once the death of Lamarque is announced. And if it's any consolation, I may or may not be changing the rating to M after the uploading of chapter 5. yaaaaas
factrice: post woman
pour l'amour de Dieu: for God's sake/for the love of god