A/N: Are you going to make me beg for reviews?! C'mon guys I know you're reading it, I'm dying for an opinion, some constructive criticism, a predication, a question, ANYTHING!

Éponine stared at her haggard face in the mirror. Dried blood clung to her skin and matted in her hair. She suddenly felt guilty for soiling Enjolras' sheets with her filth. He had drawn her a bath when they finally climbed out of bed and left her to herself to clean up. It was a shame she was about to have her first real bath in years, yet she'd still have to pull back on the same old tattered dress afterwards.

She stripped herself of said dress and climbed into the bathtub. The hot water covered her up to her shoulders and she could feel years of built up tension release itself from her muscles. She wet her hair and soaked for a few minutes, letting the dirt relinquish its grip on her skin.

A sudden knock on the door made her jump slightly. "I'm just stepping out for a moment, Éponine. I shouldn't be gone long. Do you need anything?" Enjolras asked through the door.

"No, I'm great, thank you," she replied. She listened to his footsteps fade followed by the click of the front door closing behind him. Then she was left alone with her thoughts. There was no denying the effect Enjolras' presence had on her. Her pulse raced and her skin tingled at the slightest touch. But the connection was deeper; he was genuinely a good person. No one had treated her with as much respect and dignity, no one valued her thoughts so greatly, no one seemed to truly want her around the way that he did. Her made her feel important. He made her feel wanted. He made her feel loved. Éponine scoffed at the idea. He couldn't love me, she thought, he's too invested in this revolution –in Patria. He sees her as nothing more than a damsel in distress; a street rat he can rescue. Sure, he cares about her, but as a friend, perhaps even a sister. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were meant to be more. Never had she ever felt so strongly; she had thought she was in love with Marius, but now it donned on her just how wrong she was. Being around Marius felt nothing like this; she had always felt like she needed to prove herself because she wasn't good enough for him. It was never like that with Enjolras. She felt worthy. "Dear God, I love him," she whispered to herself in astonishment.

She washed herself in a daze, scrubbing her skin raw and raking her fingers harshly through the knots in her hair to detangle it. By the time she was climbing out of the tub, she heard Enjolras return. As she was drying herself, he knocked lightly on the door.

"I have something for you," he informed her. Éponine covered herself and opened the door a tiny crack. He held up a simple, but lovely burgundy dress. "I figured you should have something clean to put on. Here." He handed her the dress and she gaped at him.

"You –you bought me a dress?" she stuttered.

"Think nothing of it. I just hope it fits; I guessed your size." He turned and walked off down the hall leaving Éponine alone again. She closed the door and held up the dress again to get a good look at it. It was nothing fancy, but it was easily the prettiest thing she'd ever owned. She re-bandaged her ribs quickly and eagerly slipped the dress on and admired her reflection in the mirror. Clean and freshly dressed, she started to feel pretty too despite the unsightly stitches on her forehead. She dried her hair as much as she could before leaving the bathroom, shaking out her damp brown curls behind her. Enjolras was sitting on the couch and he inhaled sharply when his eyes spotted her.

"You look…" he searched for words, "incredibly beautiful."

Éponine blushed slightly beneath his gaze. "Thank you. For both the compliment, and the dress."

"You are very welcome, I'm glad you like it."

"How could I not? I've never owned anything so nice. It's a shame it won't stay this way for long."

"What do you mean?"

"It won't stay pretty and clean for long when I return to the streets."

Enjolras went quiet and he appeared to be debating something in his mind. Éponine crossed the room and sat lightly on the opposite end of the couch from him waiting for him to sort out his thoughts. "What if you didn't return to the streets?" he finally whispered, looking down at his hands.

"What do you mean?" it was her turn to ask.

"I know we agreed on you staying her only a few days while you convalesce, but you don't have to leave."

"You want me to live here? With you?" Her heart raced in her chest.

"Well the revolution is fast upon us and it really would be helpful to have you near –to have you available. You have been very helpful and your ideas are worth including in the discussions we have," he said quickly.

"Oh," Éponine's face fell.

"Plus," Enjolras ventured, noticing the change in her expression and thinking maybe her feelings matched his after all, "I truly enjoy your company and I can't bear the thought of your father laying a hand on you ever again." He cautiously reached out to her and rested his hand on top of hers where it sat on the couch cushion between them.

Her heart soared. "I'd love to," she murmured, "but I'd feel like a freeloader. I have nothing to contribute and you've already been too generous." She gestured to her new dress as she spoke.

"You'd provide your company. As I'm sure you've heard, I'm notoriously independent, but I am capable of feeling loneliness," he confided, "and there's something about you Éponine. I feel close to you. I hope that's not inappropriate to say."

"Not at all." She turned her hand over to give his a reassuring squeeze. "I certainly feel close to you too." She wanted to say more. Now that she was certain of her immense feelings for him she desperately wanted him to know, but at the same time she was terrified of the uncertainty in this situation.

Enjolras swallowed hard, wanting to take the conversation further, but not knowing how to do so without totally revealing himself. With his free hand, he pushed his hair out of his face, trying to physically push away the nervousness he felt. He exhaled heavily and looked into Éponine's big brown eyes. She was beautiful. "I care about you a lot. More than you could possibly know."

Éponine moved closer to him on the couch so that the sides of their legs were touching and they were still holding hands. Her mind was struggling to form coherent thoughts with him so close. She reached out her hand, placing it on his cheek to make him face her. He anxiously licked his lips, unsure of what she was about to do. "Actually, I think I know exactly how much."

Her lips were mere inches from his and Enjolras couldn't resist a second longer. There was no turning back. He closed the distance between them and gently pressed his lips to hers.

A/N: Oooooooooh their first kiss! Let me know what you think!