-Chapter 8-

The situation in Paris grew more acute in time. October had turned into November and it was getting colder and colder. The temperature fell and with it the probability of survival for the poor. Èponine was used to every winter being a new challenge, but she had a feeling that this winter would be worse than the others.

Enjolras' and her discussion had left them with an unspoken bondage. He had kept his word and remained silent about her suicide attempt. The fact that Èponine was still alive confirmed Enjolras that he could trust her, although he noticed the fresh scars on her arms that she was trying to hide under the black coat, which he had given to her as the nights started to turn cold.

After noticing them Enjolras had asked Combeferre about self-harm, hoping that he might know how to deal with it due to his medical studies. Though Enjolras didn't mention Èponine in any way Combeferre's sympathetic facial expression told him that he had also noticed. It was one of the many things Enjolras liked about Combeferre: He noticed things that no one would ever pay attention to. That was the reason why Enjolras had chosen to talk to him instead of Joly. Joly would have not understood the sensibility of this situation, he would have been so worried about the scars getting infected that he would have totally forgotten about Èponine's privacy and her decision to hide them.

And so it had also been Combeferre, who noticed that there was something undefinable between his best friend and the waif. It wasn't comparable to a real friendship but rather to a bondage or mutual understanding.

Normally there was always a mistrusting, disaffected tension between them, because she thought him a naïve, bourgeois student and he thought her… Well, it had always been difficult to find out what Enjolras was actually thinking. Combeferre knew that his friend had never disliked the street girl, but her behaviour towards Marius had always been incomprehensible to him. Combeferre always had the anticipation that Enjolras was not quite sure where to put Èponine. And as it was part of Enjolras' character to avoid things he couldn't get a hold on, he had just tried to avoid her.

But taking a closer look at it, it had all changed. They were actually capable of talking to each other without starting an argument. He didn't lose it every single time Èponine questioned his strategies concerning the revolution and she actually saw him as a man and not just as the revolutionary leader. To Combeferre it seemed as if they were on the same level now.

"So, you also noticed it?" Combeferre said when Enjolras asked him about self-harm.

"Noticed what?" The blond revolutionary asked as a weak attempt to not drive the conversation away from Èponine.

"Don't take me for a fool, mon ami. I know how observant you are and Èponine's cuts are for sure something you wouldn't miss" At those words Enjolras sighed in defeat.

"You know me too well, 'Ferre", he said running his fingers through his locks. A clear sign that he was nervous, "So, what do you think? Will it-".

"Lead to suicide?" Combeferre interrupted him. "I'm not sure. I'm a medic not a psychologist, but I think in Èponine's case it is post-traumatic. We all know that she tries to sort out her feelings on her own, but some things can't be sort out alone. Marius married Cosette in order to deal with the barricade's losses. Grantaire is into drinking again and the rest of us were supporting each other while going through the pain of losing our friends. Èponine never talked to anyone about the uprising, she tried to escape her feelings and they might haunt her down now."

"Sounds plausible. Besides we only lost our friends. She lost her brother, a person she felt responsible for". Enjolras stated nodding at Combeferre's words.

"Oui, and in my opinion it is actually a miracle that she made it until now without hurting herself. Joly and I noticed that self-harm is very common on the streets. Such a life destroys you in time and even our Èponine can't run from that fate forever, as sad as it is" Silence followed Combeferre's words for a moment and both men were lost in their thoughts.

Enjolras couldn't help but think of the young girl that had fallen in love with Marius. She had been poor, but her eyes had been sparkling with happiness and vitality. And finally Enjolras realised why she had been so blind, why she had been so forgiving every time that Marius unconsciously broke her heart: She had tried to hold onto her illusion as long as possible. Èponine hadn't loved Marius but rather the thought of him. It was a thought, an illusion, which had kept her alive. The simple thought of being loved, seen and cared about. She was the living proof that hope could keep one alive…

. . . .

Èponine wasn't sure if Enjolras had noticed the scars on her arms. Yet she knew that this man alone had figured out that she was suicidal, he had seen through her, which was something no one had ever succeeded in. Èponine couldn't deny that there was something special about him. He was so closed up yet he still managed to observe his environment attentively. His ability to observe, analyse and interpret a situation faultlessly was probably the reason why he had become a revolutionary.

"Èponine!? What are you doing here? We are waiting for you." Èponine jumped when she heard Courfeyrac's voice behind her. It was Friday evening and the Les Amis de l'ABC had planned a meeting tonight. She didn't have time to answer; Courfeyrac already took her by the hand like a gentleman and led her to the back room where the rest of the revolutionary organisation was already gathered.

Everyone greeted her and Èponine's eyes wandered to Enjolras, who seemed to be searching for something in the mess of books, notes, papers and pocketbooks. She didn't know if she was imagining things but she could have sworn that his gaze lingered a little longer on Courfeyrac's and her linked hand. Freeing her hand from Courfeyrac's grip she waited for him to look her in the eye.

She dropped a curtsy towards him with an ironic smile playing on her lips. "Excuse my late arrival Monsieur. I didn't mean to disturb your meeting".

"I never accused you of such intention, Èponine" the blonde leader answered placing emphasis on her name and offering her the chair next to him. Èponine was rather surprised at this token gesture but didn't hesitate to sit down next to him.

"Did Enjolras just offer a female human-being a seat?" Marius asked rhetorically while poking Grantaire jokingly with his elbow. "I never thought he actually noticed that there is a female member of the Amis!"

Grantaire grinned boldly, but didn't say anything knowing that an argument between Enjolras and Marius was something too funny to interrupt.

"It may surprise you, Marius, but there are some people, who are a little bit more decent than you when it comes to dealing with females. The fact that you needed Èponine to send your beloved letters actually shows that it is you, who is not used to associate with women. Or it shows that you don't have the guts…" Enjolras comment sent Grantaire bursting out in laughter.

While Marius' cheeks turned all red, Enjolras didn't even look up to him. He was still as motionless and casual as always.

"But you can't deny the fact that it's me, who is married, and not you!" It was highly visible that Marius' pride was the one hurt now.

"As much as getting married seems to be your only priority, I have to admit that it is as well sadly the only thing succeeding in your life. I am personally not sure if that is something you should boast about". Enjolras looked up from his notes and gave Marius a short glance before turning to face the others. "But that is not why I summoned a meeting! There are more important things to discuss than Marius' and my love life…"

"And those would be?" Courfeyrac asked looking up disappointedly from the heap of cards, which had been a house of cards before Enjolras' action had caused the table to shake and the house of cards to collapse.

"Our future actions and plans! How do we proceed with our revolution now that the National Guard is on our tracks? I can only speak for myself, but I won't let the National Guard shut my mouth. What they did to Èponine only demonstrates that injustice is ruling our every life!" Silence followed Enjolras words and the cheerful sereneness died down.

It was indeed a problem for the les Amis. If they remained silent about their revolution they would just do what the National Guard wanted. If they stood up for their cause it would only be a matter of time until one of them was threatened again. So the actual question was: Give up on active rebellion or die for the cause…

It was the same question, which they already had to solve out months ago before the uprising. The only difference was that they had been naïve back then.

When Enjolras continued his speech he examined each and every of his friends with numb eyes.

"But fact is: I live this revolution, you live your lives. Marius, you are married; Joly, Musichetta has already lost Bossuet…" before Enjolras could continue he was interrupted by Joly.

"Wait, are you trying to argue us out of the revolution?!" Joly enunciated what everyone else thought. Grantaire had actually put the bottle down, and Marius stopped playing with his wedding ring. Combeferre simply shook his head in disbelief.

"That is for sure not my intention! But I was responsible for the death of our friends; I won't make this mistake again. I realised that leading his people into war isn't what a good leader should do. I was supposed to look after you during this revolution and I failed you all. I want you to overthink the situation, because you all know now that the reality of a revolution is a lot less shining and honourable than we all expected it five months ago!"

If Èponine had thought Enjolras to be out of marble, this assumption proved itself wrong right now. She had never seen him talk emotional about the June Rebellion, but here he stood revealing feelings of grief and remorse.

"Enjolras, no one here makes you responsible for what happened… When we joined the revolution we all knew that in case of doubt death would await us!" Combeferre put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "And I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we will follow the path of freedom, even if it leads us to death." Everyone around the table nodded and agreed, even Grantaire joined them.

"Then it is settled" Enjolras said and for a short moment he caught Èponine's eye as if waiting for an answer. She nodded and gave him a small smile. He had stood up for her and had protected her, now she would stand up for his dream. And not only for his dream, but also for Gavroche's. A small part of her finally understood why Gavroche had always admired Enjolras. He cared for his friends, even if he hid his feelings under the mask of marble. She just didn't know if she could count herself to them.

Around Éponine the cheerful atmosphere once again took over and with every mouthful wine the students' euphoria diffused. The others didn't notice Enjolras leaving the room and neither did they notice Èponine following him.

. . . .

Enjolras couldn't bear his friends' cheerful talking and euphoric planning of future events. Not this evening. It reminded him too much of himself five months ago, when he had convinced them to join him. He was once as euphoric as they were, but the pressure of the responsibility for his friends' life and therefore also deaths had changed him. He was still determined to die for equality, but he didn't want his friends to follow him.

He left the Musain through the backdoor and tried to calm himself down by breathing in and out deeply, yet the cold air wasn't enough to banish the feeling of guilt and the new rising weigh of responsibility from his body and soul. He untied his cravat, suddenly feeling trapped and corded up.

Without thinking he hit the wall with his fist not unlike to the night where he had rescued Èponine. Pain shot through his hand when his knuckles made contact with the cold stone a second time and he knew that his hand was once again bleeding with his knuckles splintered open. Still he didn't stop until suddenly a fragile body shoved itself between him and the wall.

Had it not been for his good reflexes he would have hit the girl straight into the face but before his fist met her skin he paused and while breathing heavily he tried to retain his composure but failed.

Èponine didn't bat an eyelid when his fist dashed against the wall only inches away from her face. She knew that he would not hurt her, not even now where he seemed to have lost control about his feelings. She had noticed that something wasn't right when he had left the room. There had been something in his eyes telling her that he was struggling with himself.

And here he was, trying to sort out things alone as he always did. It hurt her to see him this way, panting for air, pale and sweaty. His blonde curls messed up and blue eyes unfocused. His cravat was hanging loosely from his neck and Èponine saw him trembling.

She slowly raised her hand and reached out for his hand. Enjolras didn't move when her soft fingers touched his hurting hand. He tried to avoid her gaze but her dark, nearly black eyes gave him no chance, or maybe he didn't want to avoid her...

She looked down on his bleeding hand, not caring that her fingers were also wet from his blood.

"Èponine, you shouldn't have intervened… I almost hurt you!" Enjolras broke the silence and couldn't keep himself from admiring the girl's courage. He was taken aback when she suddenly smiled sadly but caring.

"Rather hurt me than yourself, Enjolras. There's no need to waste your health. While I'm already shattered-" she wanted to continue but stopped when Enjolras' hurt hand suddenly turned in hers and gripped her wrist. Before she could step back he had rolled up the sleeve of her coat and revealed the red gashed on her inner forearm.

"Yet you continue hurting yourself over and over again… " he whispered and caressed the cuts with his thumb slightly. At first she wanted to draw back but his soft touch convinced her to remain in this position.

"Is there actually anything you don't notice?" she asked trying not to flinch when his thumb touched one of the fresher cuts.

"Well, I admit that you hid them pretty well, but some things aren't made to be hidden. Besides, I take care of my friends…" Now his gaze was fixed on her eyes again. Èponine hoped that he wouldn't see her blush but she knew that the chances were low. Was there actually anything this man didn't notice?

Her heart jumped at the thought of him appreciating her as a friend. She would have never thought that someone like Enjolras would actually notice her.

Èponine felt her hand moving of its own volition and put it up to rest against his cheek. Against her expectations he didn't flinch nor did he react in any other dismissive way. Maybe she was imagining things but it seems as if he actually leaned into her touch.

"I know you do… But who takes care of you, Monsieur? Don't let the pressure of grief and guilt destroy you! What happened back at the barricades wasn't your fault. You gave those men something to fight for, something they were willing to sacrifice themselves for. But it was their decision to join the fight! Remember the song: Will you give all you can give so that our banner may advance? Some will fall and some will live, will you stand up and take your chance? Enjolras, they took their chance and now their blood waters the meadows of France. Now it is up to us that they didn't die for nothing!" his eyes rested on hers while she spoke and after finishing her small speech it was silent for wile.

Then he smiled slightly "Who would have thought that Èponine Thénardier was such a good orator?" she gave him a small melodic laugh and countered: "Who would have thought that the marmoreal Enjolras actually has feelings?"

"Yes, who would have thought…" Enjolras answered and Èponine wasn't sure if he was truly wondering about the existence of his feelings. She moved her hand from his cheek to his neck and let it remain there before taking off the black cravat, which still loosely hang from his neck.

Breaking away from his incredibly blue eyes, she wrapped the cravat around his still bleeding trying not to hurt him even more. He observed her while she used his cravat as a bandage to stop the bleeding and couldn't keep himself noticing how beautiful she was.

Yes, the streets had left their marks on her but those experiences made her to who she was now. How was it possible that poverty, fortune, abuse and inequity could form such a characteristic and in his eyes incredibly adorable, young woman?

"Tend to the wound, Monsieur. Go home and heal…" she said and he felt her grip fade from his bandaged hand. He knew that she not only meant his physical wounds, but also his emotional ones.

"Who will tend to your wounds, Èponine? Where will you go to heal?" he asked not wanting her to leave. She was already a few steps away when she paused. Why did he care so much? Could it be that she actually meant something to him?

"I never had anyone looking after me and tending to my wounds, Monsieur. No one ever cared enough." Her voice wasn't sad but rather resigned and tired. Tired of wasting all her energy for healing, because Èponine couldn't remember a time when she wasn't either mentally or physically hurt.

She suddenly noticed a movement from behind her and before she could turn around she felt his grip around her wrist, turning her around to face him.

"There is always a first time, Èponine…" he said very determined and in the next second Èponine felt his lips on top of hers. She gasped totally taken aback by his actions, but she found herself kissing him back automatically. He pulled her closer stroking her cheek with his bandaged hand while her fingers tangled in his hair. His other hand let go of her wrist and she felt his arm tighten around her waist, she liked the feeling of his chest against hers and his warmth devolved to her.

Enjolras didn't know what triggered his sudden desire for kissing her, all he knew was that it felt right and for the first time in his life Enjolras listened to his heart and not to his head.

Thanks to all the reviews I received for my last chapter! I was so happy that you liked it! I hope that this chapter pleases you all and now the real storyline actually begins and there are lots of things that I am looking forward to writing!

To Lapiz Lazuli Luna: I know that I promised to reveal how Èponine survived the June Revolution and escaped from the barricades. I will explain this in one of the upcoming chapters. I'm sorry, but it just didn't really fit into this one. Thanks for your lovely review again, I hope you liked this chapter!

Have fun reading and I hope that I'll be able to upload soon!