Back again, friends. Hope those who celebrate it had a lovely Easter!
Special thanks to Freedom909 and MaryEvH for saying lovely things, Smiles1998 for sympathising with my patheticness AND writing a hilarious story for me to procrastinate with (seriously, go read Gravity Fallen, it's brilliant), and Yuthika for being the actual best. As usual. Even when I don't reply because I'm a shit.
Disclaimer: I don't own Les Mis, A Thousand Years, or Brown Eyed Girl. Love them all though I do.
As their room-mate, Combeferre was uniquely placed to watch as Éponine and Enjolras slowly but surely found their feet as a couple. Of course, this meant he was also uniquely placed to laugh at them when they were unintentionally hilarious in their awkward brand of adorable that he knew so well. It had become normal to him in his daily life now, but when he returned from a late night in the library at 3am… well, he wasn't expecting them to still be up, frankly.
The day we met
Frozen, I held my breath
He opened the door and smiled. They didn't even notice he'd come in.
Right from the start
I knew that I'd found the home for my heart…
He watched happily as his best friends waltzed their way around the apartment, held carefully in each other's arms, as Éponine sang quietly along to the radio.
…beats fast
Colours and promises
How to be brave?
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?
But watching you stand alone
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow
They were in their pyjamas, and apartment was in darkness, the only light coming from the wide-open door of the refrigerator.
One step closer…
He tried his hardest to keep a straight face, as usual. And God, did he have to work hard sometimes.
I have died every day waiting for you
Like the first time they kissed in front of him when they were all in the kitchen eating breakfast and Éponine was leaving for work; she leant up to quickly kiss Enjolras on her way out the door and Combeferre thought his best friend would explode. The memory of the combination of mortification and sheer joy on the man's tomato-red face would brighten Combeferre's mood until the day he died.
Darling, don't be afraid
Or the way they still fought like dogs over the stupidest things, but never managed to stay mad at each other for longer than about 15 seconds after the argument ended.
I have loved you
Or the time they fell asleep on the sofa watching a movie: her head on his chest with her legs up on the seat; his hand on her hip, and an enormous goofy smile on his face.
For a thousand years
Or how they thought he didn't hear them sneaking into each other's rooms when they thought he was asleep.
I'll love you for a thousand more
Or the day a guy came up to Éponine to ask her out after she sang in the café and she declined, apologetically telling him that she was "spoken for." She played it down when the other guys teased her about it, claiming it was just to get rid of him, but he and Musichetta laughed for a full five minutes later that night at the obvious pride in Enjolras' eyes.
Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
Yep, they were cuties all right.
I will be brave
I will not let anything take away
What's standing in front of me
Hang on… was that Enjolras singing along?!
Every breath
Every hour has come to this
Well… Enjolras could sing. That was brand new information.
One step closer…
Apparently this was not only news to him, as the look of sheer shock and delight on Éponine's face told him that she didn't know until right now either.
I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
He was very aware that he was standing creepily in the doorway, but until they noticed there wasn't really much he could do.
And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more...
Besides, he had to admit the hopeless romantic inside him was squealing with joy. They were happier than even he could have imagined. And he called this MONTHS ago.
I'll love you for a thousand more...
Musichetta was going to go crazy when she heard about this. She was already planning the wedding.
One step closer…
God help them all if Jehan ever found out.
I have died every day waiting for you
He still didn't understand how nobody else had noticed; to him it was so obvious!
Darling, don't be afraid
I have loved you for a thousand years
He supposed part of it was people not mentioning it for Grantaire's sake. This would kill him when he found out.
I'll love you for a thousand more
He shook the negative thoughts from his mind. This was way too cute a moment.
And all along I believed I would find you
God, he was so alone. He'd been single for what felt like forever.
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
Maybe it was time to get back out there. Start dating again.
I'll love you for a thousand more.
The music ended, fading into a jingle and then an advert. Resisting the urge to applaud, he instead opened the door with a loud yawn like he'd just arrived.
"Hi guys… Why are you still up?"
"Getting snacks" Enjolras said in an overly casual voice, running the hand not wrapped around Éponine's waist through his curls.
"Out the fridge. The open fridge. Observe the open fridge." Éponine continued, equally unconvincingly.
"Right… well, I'm beat guys. See you in the morning." Combeferre closed the front door behind him and headed for his room, barely concealing a smirk.
He heard the calls of "Night, Ferre!" as he closed the bedroom door, then stood to listen to them hiss questions at each other ("do you think he saw?" "He would have mentioned it if he saw, right?" "Do you want toast?" "Why didn't you tell me you could dance?" "Is there peanut butter?" "Never mind my dancing, since when did you SING?!" "Sorry, was I really bad?" "When did Courf eat all the crunchy?!" "Enj, you were awesome, where'd you learn that?!").
Combeferre went to bed with a smile on his face that night. Nothing cheered the philosopher up more than knowing that two of his best friends in the world were so happy.
Enjolras was ready first, as usual, so he kept herself busy sorting out snacks for Gavroche and Jacques while they watched their movie. But when the popcorn was in the bowl and the coke was in the cups (diet – he wanted to return to an intact apartment building), there was still no sign of Éponine or Combeferre. For Éponine, this was not unusual… she'd only come out her room about 15 seconds before they were due to leave, he knew that. Combeferre, on the other hand…
He wandered over towards his best friend's door, stopping just before he knocked to listen to a hushed conversation.
"Just roll your sleeves up, that's all I ask!"
"No, it's an engagement party, it's inappropriate!"
"Inappropriate?! It's only a t-"
"SHHHH!"
"I'M SHUSHING!"
"No to the sleeves, ok? One thing at a time."
"This isn't nearly as 'Project Runway' as I was expecting"
"Éponine, I appreciate everything you're doing, but that is nothing short of a huge relief to me."
"Oh, come here!"
He backed away slowly. Whatever was going on behind that door was most likely more than he could deal with. Taking a seat beside Jacques on the sofa, he settled in to watch Despicable Me with two hyper pre-teen boys. The less stressful option… weirdly.
Ten minutes later, Éponine emerged from Combeferre's room, grinning at him. She looked fabulous, dressed in a simple, patterned navy blue dress with a black strap around her tiny waist. It fell to her mid-thigh, paired with a pair of high black heels, very little make-up and her natural, loose brown curls tumbling down over her shoulders and chest. He stood up to greet her with a wide smile.
"You look beautiful" he told her earnestly as he walked over to help her into her leather jacket.
"Thanks, Enj" she replied, leaning up to kiss him quickly.
"GROOOOSS, ÉPONINE JUST KISSED ENJOLRAS!" yelled Jacques. Shit, forgot they were here.
"WHAT?!" Gavroche cried out, outraged. He paused the movie and stood up facing them, hands on hips. "Why'd you kiss Enjolras for!?"
"I… it was just a thank you kiss, I give them to everyone! I kiss you all the time, anyway!"
"Yes but I get mad because I don't like it! Enjolras didn't and that means he DID like it!"
"Oh no, it was horrible for me, too." Enjolras reassured him, face deadpan. Éponine poked him in the ribs in outrage.
Thankfully, Combeferre appeared at that moment to save them, with -
"Short hair?!" Enjolras spluttered. As long as he'd known him, Combeferre's dirty blonde curtains had tickled the top of the philosopher's eyebrows. But now it was shaved closely to his head, so that just a few centimetres of hair remained. He also hadn't shaved that day, so a day's stubble growth covered his chin and lower cheeks.
"…bad?" Combferre fretted, stroking a hand over his head.
"No! No, just… completely different!"
"In a good way!" Éponine reassured him. "You look hot, Ferre."
"HOT?! ARE YOU KISSING HIM TOO!?" roared Gavroche in a bewildered and adorably protective manner. Éponine burst out laughing and bent over to give him a hug and a kiss on top his head.
"Pipe down, you. Behave yourself tonight, both of you, ok?"
"Ok!" the boys chorused, returning to their film; the lure of the popcorn was too strong.
Éponine, Combeferre and Enjolras left them, chuckling amongst themselves at the boys' reactions all the way to Cosette's father's house.
The taxi arrived at 55 Rue Plumet, with the occupants stopping for a second to take in the impressive building that stood before them. It was tall and unwelcoming, with imposing gates, and yet the warmth from the people inside the building beckoned them inside with open arms.
Enjolras noticed Éponine tensing beside him as Combeferre climbed out the cab.
"Are you ok?"
"Yeah, it's just weird, you know? Being here…"
The memory of Éponine collapsed in a heap on the pavement flashed across his mind and he internally kicked himself for being so stupid. Of COURSE this would be hard for her; she wouldn't have been back since!
Unsure of what else to do, he took her hand and squeezed it. It wasn't much, but the smile he got in return told him that she understood.
They followed Combeferre into the house, towards the laughter and music they could hear from outside. As they entered the kitchen to be greeted by hugs and welcomes from all sides, the pair made eye contact through the melee and shared a grin.
This was going to be a really good party.
By the time Grantaire arrived at Marius and Cosette's engagement party, it was in full swing; most people were up and dancing, laughing madly at each other, or just knocking back copious amounts of the free alcohol generously provided by Cosette's father. Irritatingly sober, Grantaire stood in the doorway to the living room - where a dance floor had been cleared - and observed, swigging his beer as he did so.
Marius and Cosette were working the room, chatting to anybody and everybody, but still managing to find time to smile at each other like they were the only people in the room. Those two were so fucking cute, even Grantaire found it hard to be cynical about them. Who knew, maybe theirs would be the one love story in a million that worked out. He hoped so.
He hoped for the same for Feuilly and Sylvie, who were drunkenly dancing together with Bahorel and Courfeyrac in the corner by the stereo; their dance moves overshadowed by the eccentric arm-waving of the two men, but their enjoyment of the evening and the company clear for all to see.
Joly, Jehan and Bossuet were in the kitchen, throwing grapes at each other. God, they must be hammered Grantaire thought to himself with a laugh.
An unexpectedly short-haired Combeferre (I like it. Looks kind of badass. Way hotter.) and Musichetta stood in the doorway on the other side of the room, whispering to each other conspiratorially, giant grins on their faces as they watched something in the centre of the room. That's weird…
Not as weird as THAT, though he realised with a start as he searched the room for what the unlikely pair were whispering about. In a turn of events Grantaire could never have predicted, Éponine and Enjolras were dancing together in the middle of the dance floor; swinging each other around, falling into each other's arms, laughing hysterically at each other before he twirled her under his arm and they'd start again, all while singing happily along to Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison. Even Enjolras! Enjolras, the famous marble man who didn't dance unless you threatened him with some form of disfigurement; who didn't really mess around… ever, was throwing his tiny best friend around the room, singing along with her to cheesy songs and smiling like he'd just freed France or something. They'd tried to get him drunk a few times, obviously, but never had the results been anything like this!
What?!
What the hell is this?!
Grantaire was genuinely flabbergasted.
And then there was the look in his eyes. Those unfathomable orbs of icy blue he knew so well were darker than he'd ever seen them - almost midnight blue! – as he looked at Éponine. He was looking at her like…
Well, like how he looked at Enjolras.
Like the whole world was right in front of him.
And Éponine was looking the same way at him.
Seriously. What the hell is going on!?
He thought back over the last few months, since Éponine had moved in with Enjolras. He'd noticed them growing closer; talking to each other more, laughing together. Enjolras certainly seemed to loosen up a lot more when Éponine was around these days. Tonight's dancing alone proved that.
Maybe something's going on there he thought, his gut twisting with uncomfortable shock and disbelief.
No, that's stupid, Enjolras doesn't do that stuff.
Does he?
No. No he doesn't.
The sha-la-las started, and Courfeyrac joined the pair, bringing a grateful Enjolras another beer, and then singing along at the top of his voice into Éponine's face. Enjolras held a hand out to Jehan, who had flowers in his hair and sparkles on his grape-covered face, and took it with a grin. The leader and the poet danced similarly enthusiastically, singing along and dancing wildly with huge smiles on their faces.
He was being stupid. Enjolras was just drunk and Éponine was just happy. That was all. Nothing more to it than that. Right?
Right. Nothing more to it than that.
Later on, when the music slowed and all the couples took to the floor for a spot of socially acceptable public groping, Grantaire noticed that neither Éponine nor Enjolras was anywhere to be seen. Frowning, he was about to go and look for him, but Musichetta whistled to him, calling him over for another beer and a chat, and he never got the chance. But he could have sworn he saw a couple kissing in the corridor on his way to the kitchen…
An hour later, as the room cleared and the Amis stumbled their way towards taxis, he hugged his best friend – who, oddly, was wearing Enjolras' jacket – goodbye, before climbing into a cab. As he pulled away, he looked back towards his friends on the pavement.
If he didn't know better, he'd have thought they were holding hands.
Weird.
I know it seems like a lot of words with not much happening, but actual plot development is coming soon, I swear.
I do love writing from R's perspective. No idea why.
Please review!