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: Sorry about the long awaited update of this chapter. I guess as I start to write things get a little crazy and I end up putting it off for a while. I will try to be better. I promise! Also, just as a note, for whatever reason I do not tend to reread these chapters before posting them. So I do apologize if something is off in one of them or there are some jumbled words or whatnot. I am so bad! I know!
Chapter 7 – Flowers
Eponine stepped through the doorway to the Café Musain. Immediately, she felt everyone's eyes on her. It was the first time she had been back there since Enjolras' outburst. She had decided to return during the day when there was supposed to be less people, but the rain outdoors seemed to have driven everyone inside. And now, they were all staring at her.
As she moved further inward, she became very aware that they weren't just looking at her. She noticed that much of the regular females present were glaring at her. For whatever reason, she really hadn't considered that the fan base around Enjolras might become jealous at his blatant announcement of love for another. It made her feel even more uncomfortable.
She slid into a table by herself. Then it was the difficult task actually getting the maid's attention to order something to drink. It was quite obvious that this was another of his many admirers.
Meanwhile, towards the back of the café, Combeferre pulled his head back from around the corner, rejoining his friends.
"She's here," he hissed.
"Who are you talking about?" Grantaire asked impatiently.
"Probably another one of his many conquests he's trying to avoid," Courfeyrac replied with a laugh.
"No," Combeferre insisted. "Eponine's here!"
Enjolras nearly spilled his glass of wine at the mention of her presence in the vicinity. Luckily, he managed to catch it, only misplacing a few drops onto the wooden table. It had been a while since he had last seen her, so his mind was spinning. The only relief he had at that time was the absence of Marius. Ever since their encounter in the alleyway, an odd tension had befallen them. It was even worse than before.
"This is perfect timing," Courfeyrac said delightedly. "You'll be able to put all that we've instructed you to practice, Enjolras."
Enjolras hesitated then shook his head. "This is ridiculous. It's never going to work. She would never go for anything like this."
"Stop procrastinating." Combeferre lifted Enjolras from his chair, moving him involuntarily toward the main room.
"Wait a moment." Grantaire took the small vase from off the center of the table and removed the few flowers that had been standing up in it, dumping the water out onto the floor. "Be sure to present her with these first."
Enjolras looked down at the drooping flowers in his hand. "I don't think anyone would appreciate this."
"Don't be silly," Courfeyrac reassured. "Women love flowers."
"If you want to call these flowers," Enjolras muttered.
"What did we tell you?" Combeferre threatened. "You are to listen to us, for we know more in this matter than you do."
"You're the one that came to us, after all," Courfeyrac explained.
Not seeing a way out of the situation, Enjolras sighed and consented, however unwillingly. He walked through the café with the few wilted flowers out in front of him like some sort of shield. He was aware of the stares he was receiving, but he kept his gaze fixed on Eponine. He had never really done anything like this before and was rather skeptical that it could actually work. However, he was willing to give it a try since this was the first time he had laid eyes on her in days.
He cleared his throat to get her attention, for her back was to him. Eponine knew precisely who it was before turning around. She smiled to herself, though butterflies were rampant in her stomach. She was ready to begin this epic game. Nobody would call Eponine silly any longer. She made sure to adopt a more annoyed expression before finally spinning to face him.
"Enjolras," she muttered. She shook her head, as if confused and put off by his presence. "What do you want?"
He glanced over his shoulder at his friends who looked on eagerly. They nodded, as if in confirmation to an unasked question. Bringing his attention back to Eponine, he held the flowers out further, offering them to her. He tried to ignore her underwhelmed expression as she stared down at the sad, small bundle.
"These are for you," Enjolras said pathetically.
Eponine took the flowers, though hesitant and unsure what to do with them. In all honesty, no one had ever given her flowers. It made her heart leap a little, but she convinced herself to remain focused on the task at hand.
"Thank you, I think." She tossed her head. "I mean, these are wonderful, Enjolras. Thank you."
Enjolras cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"
"But of course," she insisted. "And, actually, I am quite glad that I ran into you today. I was hoping to ask you to join me for dinner tonight. It wouldn't be much—just a little something from the wonderful café here."
In that moment, it was difficult for Enjolras to think straight. He was aware that she seemed a bit out of character, asking his as she did and all. However, he was so caught up in her proclamation of liking the flower bouquet that it was impossible for him to dwell on anything else.
She smiled, as if taking his silence as consent. "Will eight o' clock work for you?" She nodded, sliding off of her seat. "I'll see you here." She spun on her heel and marched out of the café, quite proud of herself.
Grantaire had to retrieve Enjolras, who had remained stationary where Eponine had left him. Grantaire put an arm around his shoulders and turned his friend toward the back of the café and the other two waiting friends.
"It worked," Enjolras muttered in disbelief once surrounded by his friends.
Courfeyrac grinned knowingly. "I told you it would. You really shouldn't doubt us, Enjolras."
"He's got no confidence in our advice, that's what it comes down to," Combeferre agreed.
Enjolras broke free, taking a couple of steps away from the group so that he could breathe and think. "I just don't understand," he said shaking his head. "She was so much against me before. Why the sudden change?"
Combeferre slid an arm over his shoulders. "You shouldn't ask questions that have no answer, my friend. The world of women is a dangerous and mysterious one."
"One must tread lightly," Courfeyrac added quietly.
"It just doesn't seem like her," Enjolras said again, unconvinced.
"The answer is simple," Grantaire cut in.
He was sitting at the table again with another glass of wine already in hand. He lounged back, appearing like the master of all things related to the female sex. It was rather comical, in all actuality.
"So what is it then, oh might one?" Courfeyrac asked, sliding in beside him.
"It's the flowers." Grantaire grinned in a mocking and light-hearted manner.
xXx
Eponine was exactly on time for their date that evening. Enjolras had arrived early, as advised by his current love counselors. But, to be truthful, having to wait around had made him even more nervous than he already was. They had given him so much information on how to proceed that he felt even more unsettled. He never would have even accepted their advice in the first place, but this was uncharted territory he was in and he needed what little guidance he could call upon.
He had already gotten a table and managed to weasel some free bread out of the young female working that evening. The bottle of wine he had to purchase, though. Or, at least put it on his tab. He had managed to down a couple of glasses by the time his attention was captured by a figure entering the café that otherwise wouldn't typically be seen around the area.
Though the outfits she wore were always fairly similar, Eponine had found one less stained and dirty than the others and that hugged her body in all of the right places. Even her face and hands appeared to have been scrubbed clean. Enjolras had to stand to greet her because he was rendered speechless at the sight. With a small, knowing smirk on her face, she slid into the chair opposite his that he had pulled out for her.
It took him a moment to find his voice. He cleared his throat. "You look awfully nice," he complimented. "Where did you find that?"
Eponine shrugged as if it was no big deal. "It was just something I had lying about," she fibbed. She took her turn to glance him up and down, approving of what she saw. "You clean up nicely."
He had showed consideration to his appearance, as well. He had slicked his hair back away from his face. He had pulled out a fresh jacket that she had never seen before. His shoes had been cleaned as much as was possible. But the amount of filth from the street left them discolored. Even so, he looked good and Eponine was quite impressed.
Enjolras waited until after they put a small, cheap order in before getting down to what he really wanted to talk about. Granted, his friends had told him to avoid the subject, as it could cause her to feel awkward and wary again. But he felt that he had to do it. After all, he never got a chance to check with her feelings on the matter since the outburst.
"I'm very happy you came out with me tonight, Eponine," he started carefully. "Honestly, I was rather surprised that you suggested a date in the first place."
"Why would you say that?" she asked. "You seem to be fairly attractive to the young women around here."
He chewed his lip. "I suppose that is true. I guess I am attractive to the young women here. But not to you, Eponine." His eyes bore into her. "I was never to you."
Eponine frowned, a little moved and embarrassed. "You were," she admitted. "Well, you are. There is much about you that women admire. I just…You were just…" She trailed off, feeling very exposed and uncomfortable. She shook her head, losing herself in the moment and knowing she had to return to her rightful mind. She couldn't let him overtake her like that. "Wait a moment. How can you say that when you were more closed off than I was?" She was very proud of herself for turning the conversation onto him.
Enjolras seemed to be a little taken aback by the sudden shift. "Love was never something I even considered," he explained slowly, as if more to himself than to her. "This was never an option. It was just an unnecessary distraction that I would have preferred to never experience." He smiled. "But now I am glad that I did – that I am."
"But it just seemed to happen so quickly and without any explanation. Nobody understands where this came from, Enjolras. I don't even know, and it is off-putting."
"I understand. But, when does love ever warn you before it appears? When does love let you choose who to give your heart to and when it is most convenient? Some people do not even know when they are in love."
Eponine's breath caught in her throat and her heart pounded against her chest. She was moved by his sincerity and passion. It felt like he could see right through her and expose her deepest desires that she didn't even know existed. It was unnerving, and she felt for the first time that evening that she was not in control.
Enjolras cleared his throat, sensing the heaviness of his words. "But, I really just wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. It was never my intention to embarrass you, but I thought in that moment I might explode. Is there any way you can possibly understand, Eponine?"
She ventured a gaze into his eyes. "I suppose so." She shrugged, a small, pleasant smile on her lips. "I mean, there have been worse things, after all. Someone declaring their love for me in a crowded room can't be considered one of those, it would seem."
He reached hesitantly across the table and cupped her hand, his own shaking quite severely. "Then may I ask you something?"
She stared down at their entwined fingers, unsure of how to react. She had never had the chance to interact like this with a man. It was new to her. Many times she had wished that Marius would take her hand the way Enjolras had, but being there in that moment, she wouldn't have wanted anybody else in Enjolras' place.
Using her silence as confirmation, he continued. "Is there any possibility that I have touched your heart? Do you, perhaps, feel the same way I do?"
She couldn't look at him. She felt the hot blush on her cheek and would have given anything to be able to run away at that time. "I suppose anything is possible," she responded without giving a conclusive response.
"I want to hear you say it," he whispered. "I need to hear you say the words, Eponine."
She shook her head, suddenly out of the moment. She stared at him, suspicion rising again, and she remembered what her initial plan had been. She retracted her hand, cradling it safely in her lap.
"What is it you want me to say, Enjolras?" she asked in an annoyed tone.
He appeared confused. "What?"
"Are you expecting me to declare my love for you now, is that it? Because doing so would be a lie."
"Why the sudden hostility, Eponine?"
"I can't do this anymore." She groaned in frustration, pushing her chair back and storming out.
After a moment's pause, Enjolras followed, though still very unsure of what just happened. It was easy for him to catch up to her with his longer legs. He managed to grab her arm and whirl her around to face him.
"Eponine, will you stop? What is this about?" he demanded. "You owe me some sort of explanation for what just happened in there."
She wrenched herself free, backing up a step or two. "You want to know what the problem is, Enjolras? I am onto your little game."
"Game? What are you talking about?"
"Do you think you can fool me with all of that nonsense you just spouted in there? You see this as a chance to prove to the world that you really are the suave, handsome Enjolras that everyone thinks you are." She had to pause to suck in a deep breath and to keep her voice from cracking. She didn't know if it was being so worked up or that perhaps there were some feelings deep down that she hadn't been aware existed. "You just see me as a conquest, nothing more."
"Is that what you really think?" he asked incredulously.
She nodded, though refused to look at him. "I thought I could make you suffer for it somehow. But I fear I am not strong enough to compete with you in matters of the heart."
He put a hand on each shoulder and turned her to face him. He was gentle, understanding, considerate. She could sense all of that in his touch alone. Even so, she was unwilling to open up to him. She hated herself. She hated to be seen as weak and pathetic. She wished he would just leave her be and move on to someone who would present more entertainment.
"How can I make you believe me, Eponine?" he whispered. With one finger, he lifted her chin so that she had to look at him. "I would never hurt you. How can I prove that to you?"
She shook her head lightly, his hand falling away. "There's no need. Let us just go our separate ways and pretend like this never happened."
Enjolras took a deep breath. There was no turning back. He gripped her shoulders roughly, but not to induce pain. He wanted her to understand just how serious he was.
"I'm tired of pretending, Eponine," he said gruffly. "I don't want to pretend anymore."
Though close as she was, he pulled her in even closer, so that she was right up against his body. Before she could resist or deny him, he leaned down and planted his lips demandingly on hers. He knew his friends would disapprove of his direct approach, but this was who he was. He couldn't play coy. He couldn't pretend disinterest. He just had to go for what he wanted.
She was stiff beneath his touch at first, but then her body began to relax into his. His arms snaked around her back, attempting to drag her even closer, but it was physically impossible. It took a moment, but hers found their way around his neck, pulling him in, as well. She wasn't sure if she could claim to have the same feelings toward Enjolras that he had declared for her. She knew that he made her heart beat faster by his mere presence.
And, in that moment, she knew that she just wanted him.