Sorry! I had a disney night with my best friend - never realised before how weird the Hunchback of Notre Dame is. What an over-reaction to a boner.
SPEAKING OF BONERS - some sexual content in this one. Nothing too explicit though, because I'm shy. And I don't want to up the rating.
Also, I went to see the Mortal Instruments film earlier - it's awesome! Oh Jamie Campbell Bower, I remember why I made you my Montparnasse...
Anyhow, long chapter ahoy...
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Les Miserables. Or Oasis. Then again, I wouldn't want to, the Gallaghers are seriously fucked up.
She made her way quickly and quietly through the Paris streets, sticking to the shadows. The potential danger of what she was about to do had not passed her by; she was taking it on blind trust that Montparnasse wouldn't have told her father where she'd be, and he'd never been exactly trustworthy, had he? It was… curious that he suddenly wanted to talk to her, after all this time. Well, they say curiosity killed the cat. Maybe it'll kill me, too.
Why was she doing this? She'd known 'Parnasse a long time, long enough to know that when people met him in dark places at night it didn't often end well for them. He said he needed to talk to her though – not wanted, needed. It had been a long time since he'd needed her for anything.
Éponine and Montparnasse had known each other since they were tiny children, even back when the Thénardiers had the old inn, and some money. As kids, they'd been inseparable, playing together, going to the same school together, even sleeping together most nights (not in that way). He'd been found as a child in Montparnasse cemetery – hence the name – and raised by nuns, until the age of 4 when the convent closed. He was a cute little kid, so got fostered easily, but he spent the next few years in various care homes and foster families, never staying in one place for long. He usually ran away from wherever he was sent; he told Éponine he felt trapped, living in one place. By the time he was 12, the state had given up on him, and he lived on the streets, often kipping on Éponine's floor in the new inn. He was a little older than her, but they were the best of friends, and told each other everything. They were each other's first kiss, and she even thought she was in love with him for a while, before she met Marius and knew what real love was. It was all pretty cute really, until it went wrong.
Turning the corner, she realised she was there: Montparnasse cemetery. She took a quick look around, but couldn't see anybody, so felt safe moving into the open. The gates to the cemetery are tall and strong, which always made Éponine smirk. They're designed so bad guys can't sneak in at night and trash the place… pretty pointless. Bad guys can usually find a way in anyway. Éponine's lithe form was well used to climbing walls, and the ivy covering these ones made it all too easy: she was standing among the tombs and gravestones in seconds. Once she'd dusted herself off and given her leg some time to recover from the shock of a hard landing, she made her way quickly to Samuel Beckett's grave, where they always used to meet. As expected, she saw a lean figure there waiting for her, his back resting against the taller tomb next to it, with his feet resting on Beckett's. He was wearing the same clothes as earlier: a dark grey V-neck t-shirt, a black leather jacket with a hood, black skinny jeans and large black boots. We get it, you're a bad boy. Is all the black really necessary? He must have seen her coming, because he called out 'I thought you weren't coming for a minute' as she walked towards him.
She sat down next to him and put her feet up on the grave. 'So did I.'
He laughed. 'Long time no see!'
'Yeah, it's been a while.'
'You finally left.'
'I did.'
'And got rid of your accent. Ashamed of old San Michel, are we?'
'Rich, coming from you.'
He laughed again. 'How's Gavroche?'
'Depends. Who wants to know?'
'I do.'
'Just you?'
Suddenly, Montparnasse stood up. He looked at her from above, clearly irritated. 'There's no point in us being here if you don't trust me. I'm not going to tell him where you are, Éponine, I know why you left that place!'
She stared at her knees, lost in thought. Should I trust him? Do I have any reason not to? He hasn't done anything to ME in years.
'And it's not like I ever do what your dad tells me anyway.'
Definitely the wrong thing to say.
Suddenly angry, she snapped back 'we both know that's not true!' Their eyes locked; hers dark and fiery, his pale and cold. Fire and Ice. Neither spoke for a moment, and she knew they were both remembering the same thing.
It was 'Parnasse's 16th birthday, and Éponine was 14. She'd saved up all her money from pick-pocketing, and tips from the bar, to get Montparnasse a ticket to see Oasis, his favourite band, who were playing in Paris that day. Azelma and Gavroche's help had meant she'd even been able to get herself a ticket, so she was more excited than she'd ever been before to give him his present, unable to stop grinning and concentrate all day at school. On the day of his birthday, he came to the inn after school so she could give him his present, staying downstairs in the bar with her father while she ran to her room to retrieve it. She came back into the room to find it empty, and shouted for him. Her father answered from the back room, where she had never been allowed before. She walked in, curious and grinning, holding the tickets, only to have her father push past her and slam the door shut, leaving her and Montparnasse alone in the dark room. He banged loudly on the closed door, shouting 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LAD. YA NOT LEAVIN' UNTIL YER A REAL MAN!'
Éponine gave Montparnasse his present, and saw his eyes light up with happiness as he gave her a hug. She'd never forget what happened next.
''NINA, YER THE BEST! I CAN'T BELIEVE YA GOT THIS! HOW DID YA AFFORD IT!? WAIT, I DON' CARE, JUST… THANK YOU!'
'It's fine! We just need to get out of here, ask my Pa!'
Montparnasse went suddenly quiet and said 'I already know how we get outta here.'
'Brilliant! What are we waiting for?'
Montparnasse had looked at his feet, then put his hands on her cheeks and looked her straight in the eyes. 'Éponine, I'm really sorry about this.'
He'd kissed her fiercely, harder than ever before. Initially she responded happily, her teenage heart thinking this was him telling her he loved her too. But it all started to go too fast for her: his hands were roaming her back, her boobs, her bum, pulling her clothes off, pulling his clothes off, and she tried to stop him, crying, pleading with him to stop it, but it was no use. They both lost their virginity, in a dark, damp room, while a bunch of creepy old men listened and cheered outside. She cried the whole time.
When he was done, he'd rolled off her and said 'We can go to Oasis now; yer dad'll let us out.' Angry, sore and distraught, she refused to even look at him, and lay crying on her side. In the end, he went by himself.
After that night, their friendship was never the same. Once her father knew she and Montparnasse had had sex, he said there was no problem with her doing her 'duties' in the back room every night ('S'not like ya savin' yasel' for marriage, is it, ya little slut?'). Montparnasse was never one of her visitors: he became a fully-fledged member of the Patron-Minette, killing a man for the first time just days later. It turned out he was pretty good at it, even enjoyed it, finding ways to make his killings stylish: he'd carve symbols into bodies, make his victims dress up in their best clothes before he killed them, that sort of thing. He got rid of his slum accent and started taking pride in his appearance. By the time Éponine was 15, he was virtually unrecognisable as the cheeky little kid who'd been her best friend.
She looked at the floor again. He broke the silence first. 'You know I'm sorry about that, Éponine. I honestly regret it, I really do.'
'It's ok.'
'It's not.'
'If it wasn't you, it would have been some fat old bloke. I should be thanking you.'
'It shouldn't have been that way… not like that.' He sat down next to her, and pulled her chin up so she was facing him, the same way Enjolras had, just hours before. Somehow, this time, it felt different.
They looked into each other's eyes, lost in their thoughts, their memories. Once again, Montparnasse was the first to speak.
'I always meant to wait for you, you know.'
She didn't know. She'd never known that.
'I had it all planned out, for when you were older. I'd get a room in a real hotel, not tell your dad, so you'd get a night of luxury as well as… that.'
Éponine felt the blush rising in her cheeks, and gave a small, sad smile. 'It couldn't have happened any other way, though.'
'I guess not.'
It didn't make any sense, but somehow this admission broke through some of the walls she'd put up against him, and she felt herself starting to trust him again. And the more she thought about it, the more she decided she could: hadn't he always looked after her on jobs if he could? Hadn't she convinced him, many times, to abandon some jobs, or leave the odd person alive? Hadn't she thought of him at the Rue Plumet, thinking she'd be able to rely on him to call it off? Maybe it was time to let sleeping dogs lie and move on.
She cleared her throat with a small cough. 'Gavroche is fine. He got grazed by a bullet, but he's going to be ok.'
He let go of her chin. 'I'm glad to hear it.'
'Anyway… you wanted to tell me something?'
'Oh, yeah. It's about Azelma.'
Éponine's stomach did a backflip. 'Is she all right? Is she hurt? What's the matter?!'
'I'm not sure, but she's not coping since you left. You can practically see through her, she's so thin. She barely eats, she drinks all the time, and your Pa's got her working all hours of the day and night.'
'Front room or back?'
'Both.'
'Shit.'
'Yeah.'
'I tried to get her to come with me. She wouldn't leave.'
'Just thought you'd want to know. Maybe it's time to try again.'
'Maybe. Thanks, 'Parnasse.'
'No problem, Nina.'
'Nobody calls me that anymore.'
'But you used to love it when I called you Nina! What about the adventures of Princess Éponina, and the dastardly, but devastatingly handsome Pirate Parnasse?!'
She laughed, cringing 'oh GOD, shut up!'
'I'm offended, Nina!'
'SHUT UP!'
'Nina, why must you hurt me in this way?!'
'Don't make me call you Monty!'
'You wouldn't dare.'
'Try me.'
Their eyes met again. This time hers were lighter, laughing. His were still the same pale, cold blue. Unchanging as ever.
'So, I hear you've got yourself a cosy little position?'
What? 'Position?'
'Yeah, with some fancy bourgeois guys?'
I didn't know a friend was a 'position'. Then again, you've never had any, so I guess you wouldn't know…'
He poked her in the ribs and she laughed again.
'Is that all you are? Your Pa made it sound a bit more… back room than that.'
She tensed. 'What did he say?'
'Something about sexual favours and food and board….'
Suddenly furious, she launched a tirade about how her Pa had to ruin everything and make it weird when they were just her fucking friends and she wasn't shagging any of them and God, she wouldn't anyway and -
'Not even the dashing Monsieur Pontmercy?'
She was silenced. How does he know? He always knows!
'Ahh… I think Pirate Parnasse has struck a nerve'
'No.' Great comeback, Éponine.
'Oh Niiiiina… you're keeping something from meeeee' he teased in a singsong voice.
'NO, I'm not! And stop calling me that!'
'I think you're shagging him.'
'I am NOT!'
'But you'd like to!' Damn it.
'He's got a girlfriend!'
'Liar!'
'It's true! Remember Cosette?! The Lark?!'
'The blonde we used to pretend was Ming when we played Defenders of the Earth?'
'YES! THAT ONE!'
'He's definitely not shagging her.'
'He is!'
'Prove it.' How can I prove it?!
There was only one way. On an impulse, she leaned forward and crashed her lips against his. She'd only intended a quick one, to prove she didn't like Marius – Wait… she didn't like Marius? – but once she started, she found she couldn't stop, especially when Montparnasse started to kiss her back. Eventually, they both had to come up for air, and she stood up, unsure of what else to do. Turning back to look at him, she found he was also on his feet, and they looked at each other for a second or two. She took it all in; the clothes, the tousled dirty blonde hair, the prominent jaw, and the high cheekbones. Jesus, 'Parnasse got seriously hot.
He smirked at her stare, seeing the lust darkening her eyes. His remained as cold as ever.
'I believe you.'
'Oh, shut up.'
And then they were kissing again; hot, breathy, open-mouthed kissing. The kind of kissing that doesn't stop at just kissing. He pressed her against the taller grave, one of his hands on the back of her neck, the other exploring her body. She felt the cold stone against her back as her t-shirt rode up, and arched herself against him to keep warm, their bodies pressed tightly together. In between kisses, he whispered 'Much as I'd like to do this here… there is a warden… and I do have an apartment down the street, if you want?'
She nodded feverishly, and he took her hand and ran across the cemetery. They reached the high stone wall in seconds, and were over it quickly, breaking body contact for as little time as possible. After what seemed like no time at all, they were at the front door to his apartment block and he was struggling with the key as she kissed his jawline. Then they were up the stairs, and inside, and in his room.
He knew what he was doing, and she wasn't exactly a novice at this. The only difference was that both she and the guy were usually drunk, and on realising this, she felt suddenly a bit self-conscious – what if it was different sober? It was hard to concentrate for too long though, as the effect the lack of alcohol had was made abundantly clear very quickly… everything was clearer, sharper, and she felt it more strongly. Her inhibitions went with her clothes, and then there was nothing in the world but her and Montparnasse. Passionate and calculating. Fire and Ice.
It felt like it could last forever, but it didn't, and all too soon they were lying exhausted next to each other, as their mingled sweat cooled on their bodies and they fell asleep.
Please don't hate me
Reviews have been very interesting, old Montparnasse seems to polarise opinions! Please keep reviewing to tell me what you think, especially of the last bit - I've never written anything like that before, so let me know how I did, please!
Love you all, of course.