Chapter Three

In the Night

Éponine quickly walked back to the main street, avoiding the greedy stares of intoxicated men. She was used to being out on the streets late at night. This was hardly the first time that her parents had asked her to bring home money at the last minute.

Unlike her parents, 'Ponine was bothered by stealing and preferred to make the cash in other ways. She often sang on the corner and would collect about a hundred euros in a couple of hours. Tonight, there were few people left on the streets, save for the homeless and a dozen or so college students.

Éponine grew nervous; a knot forming in her stomach. She moved down the street until she reached a familiar corner. Glancing down the street, she hoped that some of her friends would still be in the Café. Disappointed, Éponine sunk to the ground. She would not cry. She never cried.

But this life was beginning to tire Éponine. She knew she would never go to university. She knew she would never leave the city. She had nothing to look forward to, save for perhaps marrying.

"'Ponine! Is that you?"

Éponine looked up, startled. She smiled, relieved. "Marius."

He jogged to her and knelt beside her. "Why are you out so late, 'Ponine?"

"I could ask the same to you, Monsieur," she answered with a slight smirk.

"Shockingly, Grantaire was too drunk to get home on his own safely," Marius sarcastically explained. "So, Enjolras and I walked him back to En's place. Your turn."

Éponine hesitated. She couldn't tell the truth to Marius without him offering her money. Éponine did not want to seem like a poor little beggar to the man she was so in love with. "Just on a walk. I couldn't sleep."

He looked at her with a doubtful expression painted on his youthful face. He held her gaze with this look.

"What is it?"

"I hardly believe that, Éponine."

She folded under his gaze. "My father sent me out to get money for food. Though, we all know he'll spend it all on cheap scotch and whores."

Marius was taken aback by the harshness with which the normally cheery girl answered him. He knew that Éponine's parents were essentially scum, but he had never heard her talk about them. In fact, he had never gone beyond small talk and joking around with her.

"And I have no damn way of making a hundred euros before tomorrow morning without doing something I really cannot do. And before you offer me your money know that I really cannot accept it, Monsieur." Éponine was frantic.

Marius breathed a small smile and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small leather wallet. He withdrew a hundred euro bill and carefully handed it to Éponine, who did not hold her hands out.

"Marius, I can't."

"You can pay me back. Whenever you can." He knew telling her this would make her feel better, though he could not care less about getting the money back.

She looked into his intense green eyes, full of warmth. She silently took the bill from his hands and carefully folded it up and put it into her pant pocket.

"Thank you." Éponine reached over and hugged Marius in her gratitude. "Thank you." He returned the embrace, kissing the girl on her forehead. Éponine's stomach flipped, and it took all her might to hide a schoolgirl grin.

"Do you need me to walk you home?" the young man asked, pulling away from the hug.

"Oh, no. I'll be quite fine. It's only a few minutes, Monsieur," she replied, standing up. "Are you sure?" he asked, clearly worried about her.

"I've done it a million times before, Marius. Thank you, though. I'll see you soon, I hope."

"I hope so, too."

With that, the pair separated, Marius walking towards the Metro station, and Éponine returning to main street.

Éponine, bursting with excitement from the little kiss, halfway skipped down the street. Could Marius feel the same way about her as she did about him? The thought had raced through the girl's mind since the day she first met him, but it was becoming realer and realer with each encounter.

A sharp whistle interrupted Éponine's racing mind. She turned to see a filthy man dressed in tattered clothing. His eyes were the same deep brown as hers, but his looked nearly black with desperation.

"He gave you money down there, didn't he? That rich little man." His breath reeked, and it was warm on Éponine's face. She didn't answer.

"Didn't he?!" the man shouted, advancing.

"Piss off," Éponine hissed.

He grabbed her arm, squeezing tightly. As she began to scream, a younger man, equally as grubby, came out from behind a shop and thrust his dirty hand over her mouth. The first man shoved his hand into 'Ponine's pocket and pulled out the euro bill.

Éponine flung her foot up, kicking him in the jaw. "You brat!" he snarled. He swung his arm back and struck the girl in the face. She fell to the ground but quickly got up, throwing herself into the fight.

She felt the warm, red liquid running down her face, but adrenaline allowed her to ignore it. She began to claw at their hands, desperate for the cash. "Just give me my money!" she cried, her voice shaking. They both guffawed, showing their dirty, disfigured teeth.

"Stay off the streets, pretty thing," the older man said thrusting her against a brick wall. Éponine crumbled to the ground, battered, bruised, and defeated. As she drifted into unconsciousness, she heard a faint voice calling her name.