55

Éponine found herself walking alongside Courfeyrac. Inès walked ahead, and her hand was wrapped tightly around Gavroche's, who was chattering loudly; Bahorel stood on his other side, hands stuffed into his pockets. Just ahead of them, Enjolras and Combeferre stood in deep conversation, leaving Éponine and Courfeyrac more or less alone.

She could see that he was almost dragging his footsteps to keep slow, so that he didn't catch up with the rest of them, and she slowed her own steps accordingly.

"Is everything all right, Courfeyrac?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

"I would be lying if I said yes," he admitted.

"What is the matter?" She clasped her hands in front of herself.

"I...I disliked that boy immensely," he said. "I disliked his attitude, and the way he spoke to you, and what he actually said to you."

"You are not on your own there," she said. "But I think I handled it well enough, don't you? Besides, it is over now."

"You shouldn't have to handle it," Courfeyrac said. "People shouldn't speak to you –"

"I'm used to it," Éponine said. "I have had worse, Courfeyrac. Much worse. Often from my own father, or mother. I have thicker skin than you think."

He let out a long breath. "And I hate that too," he said. "I hate that you're used to it."

"I'm..." She paused, and stared up at the sky. Today it was a paler colour, almost a mint green in shade, fading towards white and an icy blue around the edges. She focused on all of the colours as she tried of thinking of something to say. "I hate it too," she said, at last. "But hating it won't change anything, unfortunately. I just have to move past it, the best I can, and so should you."

She glanced at him. He was scowling. She found that she didn't particularly like the expression on his face; it didn't suit him, and it was almost ugly. She wanted to take it away, so she snaked her hand out to wrap her fingers around his.

"I'm touched," she said, voice soft. "I really am, Courfeyrac, that you feel this...What's the word..."

"Strongly?" he suggested.

"Yes, strongly," she said. "I'm touched you feel this strongly. But please, don't let it bother you for too long." She drew to a stop, and because of her hold on him he stopped too. She touched the crease between his eyebrows with the fingertips of her other hand, her touch feathery and light. "This," she said, "Doesn't suit you. Frowning."

His annoyed frown turned to one of confusion and puzzlement. She moved her hand away, and he caught it with his other one.

"Smile," she said. "I like your smile."

She felt her face heat up uncomfortably as she spoke, but she had barely said the last words before Courfeyrac did break out into the bright smile that she loved so much. Brighter than sunshine, that smile was; it was strange how quickly she had begun to feel affection for it.

"Really?" he said, and there was a teasing note to his voice, all irritation gone. "I'll have to make sure to smile more in your presence."

"Good," she murmured, suddenly feeling shy.

"Do you want us to wait for you?" Enjolras' voice cut sharply between them, like a knife, and Éponine tugged her hands out of Courfeyrac's.

Enjolras' eyes were narrowed, and wandering dangerously close towards the direction of Éponine's and Courfeyrac's hands. There was disapproval written all over his face, and beside him, Combeferre looked both hesitant and sad at the same time.

"We're coming now," Courfeyrac said. The words were clipped, matching Enjolras' snappy tone almost perfectly.

Éponine met Combeferre's eyes. He gave a little shake of his head that she thought, for a moment, was aimed at her, but then he spoke.

"Éponine," he said, "Why don't you try and catch up with the others? I think Enjolras, Courfeyrac and I need to have a word. We'll see you at your apartment."

Éponine didn't move. "I think –"

"Éponine," Combeferre said, in a voice that brooked no arguments. "Please."

She glanced up at Courfeyrac, whose cheeks were flushed, that bright smile lost, and then towards Enjolras, whose nostrils were flared and hands flexing like he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Don't be long," she said, to no one in particular, and moved away from them. She gently touched Combeferre's elbow as she passed him.

She had taken only a few steps ahead when she heard Combeferre demand in an exasperated tone, "What on earth has gotten into you two...?"

OOO

Éponine walked slowly, and wasn't able to catch up with Inès, Gavroche and Bahorel. She found their apartment door unlocked, and the three of them sat cross-legged on the bare floorboards, Bahorel and Gavroche already engrossed in a game of chess.

She shut the door behind her. Bahorel and Gavroche raised their heads and gave her a small glance, but Inès was the one to continue staring. When the two boys had returned to their game, one of Inès' eyebrows quirked upwards. A moment later she got to her feet with a rustle of fabric and crossed the room.

"Where are the other three?" she asked.

"Talking," Éponine said.

"About?" Inès prompted.

"Me," Éponine said, and scrubbed a hand over her face. She lowered her voice. "I think. Possibly."

"You?" Inès echoed. She sounded more than a little surprised. "Why would they be arguing about you?"

"I've...I have no idea." Éponine pulled her shawl from around her shoulders and balled it in her fists, wrapping it around her palms and squeezing tightly. "They keep on arguing..."

"Those three? But they seem so...close," Inès said.

"They are," Éponine replied. "And not all three of them, not quite – it's Courfeyrac and Enjolras. They keep on butting heads, and I wasn't sure what it was about, but..."

"But now you think it's you?" Inès' lips pursed. "Is it to do with how close you and Courfeyrac seem to be these days?"

"I wouldn't call us close," Éponine muttered, embarrassed. She crossed over to the kitchen area and took refuge behind the cabinets. Inès followed.

"All right, then," she said. "Not close, but...Silly."

"Silly?" Éponine couldn't help but sound a tad offended as she echoed the other girl.

"You both look at each other when you think no one else is paying attention," Inès said. "He smiles a lot around you, and sometimes he goes out of his way to say things that will make you smile. Also, I actually saw his face when Arnaud was harassing you..."

"That's not silly behaviour," Éponine said.

"If you could see your own face sometimes when Courfeyrac walks into the room, then you would call yourself silly," Inès said bluntly.

"Does...Does everyone know?" Éponine said, glancing towards Gavroche and Bahorel, who were bickering about something to do with their chess game.

"I don't know," Inès said. "It isn't as if I've asked Gavroche of all people."

"Oh." Éponine folded her arms over her chest, her hands still tangled in fabric.

"So what has made you think that they're fighting over...you?" Inès said, gesturing at Éponine.

Éponine considered the question and cleared her throat. "Well...Courfeyrac and I were...talking..." She paused. "And, Enjolras interrupted."

"And...?" Inès prompted.

"He looked annoyed," Éponine continued. "Courfeyrac and I had been...Almost...Kind of holding hands and Enjolras was...looking at our hands."

Inès' mouth hung open for a few moments, and then she pursed her lips tightly together before saying, "Do you mean...Do you think Enjolras is jealous?"

"No," Éponine said, quickly. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Because that's what it sounds like," Inès said. "It sounds like he's jealous."

"That's not what I meant," Éponine said. "Just because he's annoyed about – about what Courfeyrac and I, um, have, doesn't mean that he's jealous –"

Inès snorted, an incredibly unattractive little noise that caused spikes of irritation down Éponine's spine. "What else could it mean?"

"Well," Éponine said, and then floundered. "Lots of things," she finished, lamely.

"Yes, lots of things," Inès hummed. "Like jealousy."

Éponine swatted at Inès' arm, but the small slap was weak and half-hearted.

"Don't," she said, quietly.

"What?" The corner of Inès' mouth quirked upwards. "You don't like the idea that two men could have affections for you?"

"No, I do not like that idea," Éponine said, sharply. "It would make things complicated and I am not particularly interested in complications such as that."

"Well then," Inès said, the humour still on her lips but seeping out of her eyes as she studied Éponine's face. "For your sake, I hope that Enjolras is annoyed for other reasons."

"Thank you," Éponine murmured, unwinding the shawl from around her hands and draping it over one arm. "Now, I'm going to go and..." She gestured to the shawl. "Put this away, I suppose."

She hurried towards her bedroom, glad to escape and shut the door behind her. She dropped the shawl onto the bed and then sat on top of it, burying her face in her hands, hoping that she was just reading too much into the situation that had just occurred.