Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.
Title: The Note
Summary: Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?
Author's Note: Regarding the rating, I was torn whether to go with T or M. I went with T because the story will mainly be clean. However, I was expecting there to be perhaps a scene or two that might be on the verge of M. I just wanted to forewarn everyone, and I shall do so again at the time it becomes relevant, in case this makes a difference to anybody.
Chapter 2 – Reservations
"Are you ever going to tell us what your prior engagement was last night, Enjolras?" Grantaire asked, eyeing his friend from across the table.
It was just after noon and still the boys seemed to be unable to talk about anything else. Multiple times already, Enjolras considered walking out. His mind wasn't in the right place to be able to conduct this back and forth with them. Yet, he managed to stick around. It was the hope that he might see someone in particular at the Café Musain that day.
"If I thought for one moment that it would benefit you to learn of my affairs, I would impart that information to you," he replied steadfastly.
Combeferre laughed. "There you have it!" he proclaimed. "How predictable! Enjolras can always be relied upon to be as stubborn as possible."
"And to ruin our fun time and time again," Courfeyrac chimed in.
"Where is Marius to save me from you lot?" Enjolras muttered.
Grantaire's eyes darted about as he raised a mug to his lips. "Absent, as usual, it would seem."
"That woman will turn out to be the destruction of him," Courfeyrac jested with a large grin.
Combeferre leaned in with a silly grin on his face. "But what a delicious destruction that would be."
There came another burst of laughter that Enjolras did not partake in. It was as his friends were sharing a laugh that their missing member finally appeared. Marius looked rather flustered, but joyous nonetheless. Despite the café being particularly crowded that afternoon, it didn't take long for him to spot their table and veer in the appropriate direction.
"Speak of him and he shall appear," Grantaire muttered under his breath.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Marius greeted, taking an empty chair from another table and pulling it around to join his friends.
"A good afternoon, indeed," Combeferre replied slyly.
"You're a bit late today, Marius," Courfeyrac added. His eyes bounced from Marius to the others, as if awaiting some sort of signal to continue. "Did you keep late hours last night?"
Marius released a deep, longing sigh, leaning back in the chair, the back of which was the only thing keeping him from sliding to the ground in a puddle of ecstasy. "Aphrodite is but an afterthought in comparison to her beauty."
"Those are some passionate words, my friend," Enjolras said gloomily.
"Passion could hardly describe the way she makes me feel." His hand fell over his heart, as if it physically ached for him to speak of such things. "I never knew that Heaven could be found right here on earth until I met her. My eyes have been opened for the first time in my life. Believe me when I say, gentlemen, that never before will you have heard of a love story such as ours."
He was overflowing with romance. Luckily, Enjolras didn't have to continue to be subject to the hearts floating in his eyes. Staring beyond Marius' head, he spied Eponine ducking shyly into view. She managed to keep her distance still, but stared longingly at their table. Despite the natural shower from the previous night, she had somehow managed to pick up the filth off of the streets again.
Eponine peered over at Marius with a discontent frown. It was her daily routine to follow him, which often led to this particular spot where his friends always awaited him. She probably would have chosen to stay away, as the events of the previous evening were still fresh on her mind and didn't sit right with her. But, she decided that she just couldn't ignore it. After all, any day could be the day that he finally chose to see her.
Her eyes readjusted and she became aware that Enjolras was looking directly at her from where he sat beyond Marius. It took her off guard momentarily. Then her frown turned into a scowl, and she swiftly disappeared back outside onto the streets.
Enjolras quickly, and unintentionally violently, stood, his chair falling backward. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he announced with his palms flat on the table. "I shall return momentarily."
Before he could hear any words of protest, he left the table, following directly in Eponine's footsteps. He found her lingering just outside of the doorway. As soon as she spotted him coming after her, though, she bolted. She took long, determined strides to escape from him down the street.
"Eponine!" he called, jogging a little ways to catch her. "Eponine, don't run from me."
She didn't pay him any mind. The next building over he was finally able to lay a hand on her shoulder, ceasing her and coming up beside her. She didn't seem at all happy about that.
"Eponine, wait a moment."
"What is it, Enjolras?" she asked impatiently, turning on him. "What do you want? I don't want to even see you right now, let alone speak to you."
"I know, I know. I realize that last night was rather awkward and…intense," Enjolras tried to explain.
"Intense is an understatement," she corrected, her arms crossed haughtily over her chest. "It was downright uncalled for. I don't care if you don't approve of my interests. I don't have to answer to you."
His stomach fluttered. Her boldness was something to be admired. The female company he typically surrounded himself with did not possess the similar fortitude. He hated empty headedness. He disliked the silly girls that were so similar to one another. He actually found that Eponine was quite refreshing. He never had really talked to her much or had shown much interest in her. But now, having witnessed this fire, he believed that he was actually fonder of her company than the others.
"I'm sorry," he stated, genuinely.
It took Eponine by surprise. It took a few seconds for her to organize her thoughts. It wasn't every day that one got an apology from the great Enjolras. "Wh-What was that?"
He smirked. "I'm sorry, Eponine. Please, let me make it up to you. Let me redeem myself."
She remembered herself and stiffened, shutting down again. "Redeem yourself? And how do you expect to do that?"
He had seen her receptiveness to his apology, but now her defenses were building again. He had to convince her before it was too late. The fact that she was still there in front of him, though, was certainly reassuring.
"How about I treat you to dinner tonight?" he suggested.
"You and I both know that you lack the means for such a display," she charged.
He shrugged. "I never said it would be the most luxurious dinner, but I have my ways of ensuring it will be better than what you are typically used to. So what do you say?"
She eyed him critically. Nothing seemed right about this situation. Every inch of her was telling her to decline, to run. After all, that was what she was used to doing. She had learned to protect herself, to shut people out. It was only normal for her to react the same way in this situation.
She sighed, rather defeated. She tossed her hands. "What do you want from me, Enjolras?"
Enjolras grazed her arm gently. He hoped she would respond in a comforted way. "All I want is to have dinner with you and to set things right."
Eponine was surprised by his sincerity. In fact, she was rather intrigued by it. She wasn't completely reassured that he was being up front and honest with her, but she trusted in his humanity. There was little else she could do, after all. So, she wanted to say that her answer came from that understanding place and not from the fact that she hadn't had a decent meal in over three days, but she couldn't say for certain.
"All you want is to have dinner with me," she repeated, as if she couldn't believe the words were real unless she said them herself. "Against my better judgment, Enjolras, I will agree to this. We shall meet for dinner tonight at eight, but that is it. There will be nothing more. Do you understand me?"
"Do you think me such a bad man, Eponine? I am not trying to take advantage of you. Can't you just trust me?" It was a stupid thing to say. Everybody that lived on the streets knew that trust always came with a cost. It wasn't something that was easily or freely given.
Eponine took a deep breath. "Here at eight tonight. Just dinner." And she strode away from the café without another word.