-Chapter 11-

Enjolras' head snapped up as Èponine entered the living room fully dressed. She was wearing a crimson dress and her hair was pinned up in a loose chignon.

"Don't look at me like I'm a ghost!" she laughed "I know that my hairdressing is a bit rusty!"

"I actually think it looks quite handsome, besides you are talking to someone whose curls could never be tamed!" he said and for a second a small smile lit up his face.

"I never thought that the mighty leader of the revolution would be worried about his hair?" Èponine laughed and she couldn't keep herself from imagining a frustrated Enjolras, who was desperately trying to tame his hair.

"I am not! But my mother was… Hell, she never liked my hair. She always had the desire to make her children fit into some kind of ideal. And believe me, not only my hair didn't fit into that…" he said and Èponine wasn't sure if he was talking to her or to himself. His eyes were cloudy and thoughtful while he approached her and the slight touch of his fingers, as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face behind her ear, send shivers down her spine.

Èponine desperately wondered what Enjolras' mother had against his hair and subconsciously she found herself wondering what Enjolras' mother had against her son at all. Yes, Enjolras wasn't like other men of his age, but she always thought that an overambitious workaholic was the best thing that could happen to a noble family.

"I don't want to step on your toes, but I can't comprehend your mother's opinion" Èponine said and as soon as the words were out she regretted them. It wasn't fair to speak ill of his mother in front of him. "I mean, I don't want to offend your mother or something, I'm sure she is a nice and noble person-" she babbled, but he started laughing ironically and she stopped, not knowing what would be so funny about this topic.

"Believe me, Èponine! I am the last to accuse you of criticising my mother. There is no need to explain yourself." Èponine was totally perplexed now, but he just continued.

"And there is a whole book with characteristics that I could describe my mother with, and 'nice' and 'noble' are sure as death unlisted."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I know how it feels to grow up with parents, who don't care" she muttered and didn't quite know whether to look him in the eye or on the ground.

It seemed as if she had touched a sore spot and she wasn't sure if his emotional reaction was an improvement or a step backwards for their relationship. She decided to fix her gaze on the cockade, which was pinned to his black jacket. The red, white and blue symbol of revolution belonged to the blond man's chest as much as his heart. The only difference was that the cockade was distinctly visible in contrast to his heart, which had until now always been hidden behind his façade.

She hoped that he would change the topic because the uncomfortable silence became unbearable. She felt his gaze upon her and knew that she couldn't avoid his eyes any longer.

"Èponine… Sometimes I wish that I could have spared you all the pain and suffering. If the June Rebellion had been successful, if we had been able to overthrow the government, you might have not gotten attacked and hurt and you wouldn't have to hide." He said and Èponine almost laughed at his words.

Great, not only did he blame himself for his friends' deaths, he also blamed himself for her past and her recent injuries.

"Pardon me, if this sounds rude but sometimes you think yourself a bit too important! Stop thinking that you are responsible for everything and everyone. Especially me! If there is someone responsible for my encounter with the National Guard that night, it is my father because he sold me out!" the second those words left her lips it was already too late. Enjolras frowned and suddenly his gaze turned from regretful to piercing and unavoidable.

Yes, she had wanted to change the topic, but her family-problems weren't the right thing to talk about either.

"Wait, what do you mean?" asked Enjolras and his hands clasped Cosette's redaction of 'Utopia', which he still held in his now cramped fingers.

"It's nothing important, really-"

"Is it truly of no importance or do you just wish it to be unimportant?" he challenged prosaic.

Èponine opened her mouth to give him an offended reply, which would tell him to not poke his bourgeois nose into her private business, but no word escaped her lips. Instead her mind thought his question over and over again, knowing that he had just couched the truth, which she had never even been able to think.

She couldn't bear his grey-blue eyes looking at her expectantly, so she turned around folding her arms as if she was cold. Hoping that he would not think her rude and ignorant, she closed her eyes and tried to assign the words to her feelings.

"My father was the one, who helped the National Guard find and catch me that night. Knowing that I had information about the revolution he exchanged me for his freedom…" she said and tried to put it as factual as possible but a slight tremble in her voice told Enjolras that she wasn't as neutral about the situation as she wanted to be.

"Èponine, I'm sorr-"

"Stop it! I don't want to hear it. It is pathetic enough to have you know that I hurt myself or that I attempted suicide. I don't have to be pitied for my family on top of it all!" she snapped and Enjolras practically felt her protective-shield forming between him and her; separating him from her…

"'Ponine… If wanting to take all the pain away from you and catching your tears is how you define 'pity', yes, than I pity you…" he replied and Èponine could feel him approaching her from behind.

Her eyes were still closed, but the silent thud of the 'Utopia' redaction being put on the commode next to her made her eyes open. Before she could turn around to face him she felt his one hand against her waist, his other hand gently wrapped around hers, which was still clenched to a fist.

She was actually glad that he stood behind her, because she didn't have to face him this way. Looking him right in the eye always made her even more nervous when he was that near to her.

His head was now next to hers and she felt his curls tickling the skin of her neck and ear. Èponine's hand relaxed and she wrapped her fingers around his. They were cold and she brought them up to her mouth to kiss the back of his hand. Opening her mouth to say something she was cut off by his voice.

"Please don't say something…" he said but his voice wasn't rude. He sounded rather amused.

"Why shouldn't I say something?" Èponine asked a bit snappish making him laugh silently, which confused her even more.

"Because as soon as we start talking, we always end up arguing and that is the last thing I want to do now!" he whispered into her ear and he let go of her hand to turn her head sideward and before she could do anything his lips silenced her.

Without hesitating she turned around and her hand found his neck, while his were exploring her waist. He inhaled the smell of her soft skin and her lips' movement almost made him mad. She laced her fingers into his hair and deepened the kiss until they broke apart both panting for air and avoiding eye-contact.

Èponine practically felt how her face turned red and she could tell that Enjolras was nervous too because he was once again running his hand through his hair. He cleared his throat to break the uncomfortable silence and Èponine cursed herself for having pinned up her hair. Now she could not even hide her blushing face behind it.

Her eyes were fixed on the ground and she started playing with the border of her dress' sleeve. It was the second time that they suddenly ended up kissing. She didn't know where the sudden desire to drown in his arms came from, or what it was that made her feel safe when he was around.

Maybe it was the fact that she didn't have to hide from him. He knew so much about her and he didn't judge her. On the contrary: he made her feel worthy in spite of everything.

Enjolras had never felt that way. Never had he imagined that a woman could make him feel this way. Nervous but at the same time unbelievable happy.

From the first time they had talked there had been a tension between them, they just didn't expect it to make them fall for each other.

"You know, you can keep the book if you want." Èponine's voice was shaking a bit but she couldn't bear the silence anymore. Still not looking up she felt him taking her hand again, but before she could react to his touch he withdrew his hand and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you. You know that you are always welcome at the Musain. Whenever you feel that a return is safe, we will be there waiting!" he said and added silently "I will be there waiting…"

Èponine just nodded and stared at him while he took the book and turned to leave the apartment. Just then Èponine realised that he left something lying on the commode where the book had lain.

It was his cockade and Èponine was about to run after him to tell him he lost it, but then she realised that he left the cockade on purpose. She closed her hand around the little piece of cloth that meant so incredibly much to its owner. Leaving the cockade was his way to express his feelings, his way to show her that he trusted her… Or maybe even more?

She didn't know where this thought came from, or was it a wish?

I'm so sorry for the long wait. School ended and there were so many exams left to write that I couldn't find time to write. But I have summer holidays now, so I guess that I will be able to upload the next chapter sooner.

Which means, if you want it to be up soon...?

Please review! Greetings and thanks for reading!