As promised, another chapter!
Disclaimer: you know I don't own anything mentioned, right?
In all the excitement, Enjolras almost forgot about his other commitment entirely. If it hadn't been for Éponine saying she had to take the boys home at twenty-five to twelve, midnight would've come and gone without Enjolras even batting an eyelid. But as it came back to the forefront of his mind, the knot of worry for Éponine's safety returned to his stomach. He wanted desperately to tell her to stay with the group, at least until he was back from meeting the mysterious stranger… but he had no reason for either asking her to stay or going out alone to meet someone at midnight, and he knew she'd ask. So he didn't say anything at all as she ruffled Grantaire's hair and hugged Bahorel and Courfeyrac, then sashayed out the door with a very sleepy Gavroche and Jacques in tow. Once she'd gone, he could barely concentrate on what was going on in front of him; his only thought was how he could leave without it being suspicious.
His pocket vibrated minutes later: a text from Éponine.
Hey smelly, that's us home. Putting the boys to bed now. Don't be too late, I'm bored. Also, remember you don't have to plan EVERYTHING in one night. Exox
He smiled at her text, then he realised the opportunity Éponine had unwittingly provided him with. "Guys, I've got to run" he announced apologetically. "Éponine needs help with the boys."
The response was mainly "whip" sound-effects and cat-calls.
"Shut up" he laughed. "It's not like that."
"I'll go if you want to stay?" Courf offered.
"Nahh, it's ok" Enjolras said. "I think we've made really good progress though. Back here tomorrow night, get down to it again after Ép sings?"
There was general agreement.
"Thanks, everyone. See you all then. Don't be late – Grantaire, that means you. And can someone update Marius? And get him to get his arse in gear?"
"I'll do it" Courfeyrac said. "He might actually listen to me."
"There's always that outside chance" Enjolras replied wryly as he shrugged on his red jacket. It smelt of Éponine, and he hid the smile in his goodbye "Bye then!"
As he walked to the cemetery, he breathed in the lingering scent of her from his collar; she must have borrowed it. Éponine always smelled the same: fresh and clear – like the outdoors: just clear, fresh air, as though she spent all her time walking in the hills or something – but with a slightly fiery hint of ash; the giveaway that she actually spent all her time in the somewhat less clear air of the Paris streets. And then there was the vanilla-scented shampoo, and the ever-present hint of cinnamon which he never understood, but loved best of all. He pulled the collar of his jacket up so he got a whiff of that uniquely Éponine scent every few seconds. It made him feel braver.
He realised as he reached the high green gates of Montparnasse cemetery that he had absolutely no idea how to get in. And the only person he knew would know how to get into a walled, guarded cemetery at night was the very person he had to hide this whole thing from. So he supposed he'd just have to try and get in himself. He took a running jump and launched himself at the cemetery wall, scrabbling at the stone tops frantically before – FUCK – hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes. This was clearly going to be more complicated than he thought.
Ten minutes, several more unceremonious falls to the ground, and a lot of swearing later, he was finally on top of the wall. He dropped to the ground, breathing heavily as he dusted himself off, and looked around him. Empty cemetery at night he thought. Nothing weird about this at all.
He knew as soon as the tall, lean figure emerged from the shadow of a tall tomb who it was he was meeting and his heart sank. As the man loped gracefully over, eventually stopping to lean on a grave a few feet in front of Enjolras, Enjolras inwardly kicked himself for his stupidity.
"In hindsight" he said out loud, laughing to himself slightly in irritation. "This should have been obvious."
The shadow only raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, who else would want to meet in a graveyard at midnight? A vampire!?"
The shadow spoke for the first time. "How do you know I'm not one?" he drawled sarcastically.
"Éponine broke your jaw" Enjolras stated bluntly. "I know her strength as well as the next man, but I'm not sure even she could injure a member of the undead."
Montparnasse laughed. Actually laughed. Enjolras didn't really know what to do, so he just waited for this mildly upsetting turn of events to stop. When it did, he almost wished it hadn't.
"I expect you know her strength better than most" Montparnasse said, inspecting his fingernails.
Enjolras' back stiffened. "I don't know what you mean."
"Come on man. Let's not pretend. We both know you've been shagging her. Honestly, I'm amazed it's only you, with that big group of lads hanging around? Still, we've both been there… it's like a special bond."
Enjolras was starting to get really pissed off now, but he wasn't giving Montparnasse the satisfaction of letting him know it. "Maybe if you'd had anything close to what Ép and I have, you wouldn't be surprised it was 'only me'."
"Ooh, is it love, Casanova? That explains the message. She was rather annoyed about that, I think."
"What are you talking about?" Enjolras spat out.
"Last night? This morning? Oh dear… you forgot, didn't you?" Montparnasse looked positively delighted. Suddenly, the memory of the night before hit Enjolras like a train: the message, what he'd said… oh GOD… no wonder she was angry. Shit shit shit… "Ah… I see you've remembered."
"Hang on…" Enjolras said suddenly. "How do you know so much about all this? What are you, some kind of stalker?"
"I have my sources. I'm everywhere in this city." Montparnasse replied evasively.
"Aww" Enjolras mocked. "Finding it a little difficult to let go of Éponine, are you?"
"No."
"I think you are. I think you hate that you lost her, and it was entirely your fault."
"Projecting much?"
"I haven't lost her. And I don't intend to."
Montparnasse laughed again. "Do you remember which grave I asked you to meet me at tonight?"
That was a change of pace… "Évariste Galois. Whoever that is." Enjolras replied.
"I'm surprised you of all people don't know him… he was a mathematician, originally. Good one. Died aged 20 in a duel over a woman…"
"Is this a threat?" Enjolras laughed. "What exactly are you suggesting? A duel?"
"Not so much" Montparnasse smirked "I'm good at killing people, and if you're good at something, never do it for free. So until someone pays me, pretty boy – and trust me, I won't say no if they offer - you're safe. Anyway, Galois had all sorts of trouble during his short lifetime. Got himself all mixed up in politics during the reign of Louis-Philippe. Arrested several times for his radical republicanism… threatened to kill the King, paraded knives and weapons through the streets… anyway, he ended up dying in a duel over a lover aged 20. His death was originally going to be a big rioting point for the republicans but then they got caught up with other stuff… I forget which rebellion that was, there were a lot around then. It was May or June 1832 anyway."
"What's your point?" Enjolras asked, exasperated.
"I heard what you were planning today. You should be careful."
"How are you hearing this?!" he exclaimed, his irritation finally bursting out.
"Never mind. But I did. For what it's worth…" Montparnasse paused, clearly fighting with himself over what to say next. "I think you've got the right idea. And you seem to actually care about this shit, for some reason."
Enjolras was genuinely taken aback. "Erm… thank you."
"I mean it though, you should be careful. If I can hear, other people might be able to, and not just people who'll help. Which brings me to why I'm actually here…"
"I was wondering when that would come up."
"Éponine's in danger."
"She's always in danger. Partly from you."
"Yeah well, partly from you too, Évariste."
He realised Montparnasse was right, and his stomach knotted. But again, he certainly wasn't giving that bloke the satisfaction. "I'm not him."
"Let's hope not. But you easily could be… anyway, this time it's her Pa."
"What? What does he want?"
"Her Ma died a little while back, and it was her dying wish that Éponine came back, or something. To be honest, I think it's mostly that Thénardier's all alone up in that inn since Azelma… left, and he really doesn't like having to run his own inn. Dirty work, you know. So he wants Éponine back."
"You can't be serious."
"Deadly."
"Why can't people just leave her alone…?" Enjolras exclaimed irritably, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "I don't suppose there's any point in asking how you know this?"
"Actually this time there is. He asked me to find her. Her address."
A dead weight of fear suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. "This fucking better not have been a trap" he warned.
Montparnasse laughed. "No. But good thought… we'll make an assassin of you yet."
"You most certainly will not"
"Let me know how you plan to overthrow a government with no violence, again?"
"It's different."
"Sure it is… anyway, no. He asked me at the end of March, and I haven't told him yet, even though I knew at the time. I never lost track of her. And I knew about you two before you did. But the important thing is: I haven't told him, and I'm not going to, but I can't guarantee he won't find out eventually. And you should be ready, that's all."
Enjolras was bursting with questions, and simply eyed the elegant assassin in front of him warily as he weighed up which was the most important. "Why didn't you tell her this?"
"You honestly think she'd have met up with me? And she's known me too long to have to think about who it would be asking her to meet in Montparnasse cemetery at midnight. I mean, Jesus, I should have just SAID who it was."
"I didn't know where Évariste Galois' grave was…"
"Nobody does. It's somewhere in here, but nobody knows where. Because he was just some idiot who tried to overthrow a regime, and ended up getting himself killed over a girl. Curious tale…"
"I'm not falling for that – and why are you doing this? Why didn't you just tell her father where she was? He'll be paying you, I'm sure. What are you wanting, more money?"
"No" Montparnasse retorted, before his carefully constructed bad-boy mask slipped, and he added "Look… I owe her, ok? The Azelma thing… I really fucked that up." He ran a hand through his dirty-blonde hair, clearly uncomfortable. "Actually, even before that, when we… never mind. I just owe her one, ok? Like the Avengers: I've got red in my ledger."
"What?"
"You haven't seen that movie?! It's on Netflix, you'd love it. All heroes and conquering evil… it's right up your alley, seriously. Anyway, I owe her and… I don't want to see her hurt. So I'll stall it as long as I can. Just be prepared. Don't let her do anything stupid and reckless, because she will try. Fuck, she's probably doing something now" Montparnasse finished with a laugh, his body still hunched slightly, visibly smaller, as though the tiny outpouring of emotion had somehow deflated him, removing his haughty sarcastic front.
Enjolras regarded the man for a second. He was surprised by him, he admitted it. He clearly wasn't the out-and-out, emotionless rebel without a cause he pretended he was; the mask was good, but it wasn't fool-proof. Enjolras supposed it was rather like his own; the one only his closest friends could see through and Éponine alone could remove completely. Montparnasse had also clearly been affected by Azelma's death a lot more than he cared to admit: to not only become disenchanted with his whole criminal world, but to skate over it, call it her "leaving" or "the Azelma thing", when he was usually so comfortable with death, and even with causing it himself… Enjolras realised with a jolt that Montparnasse must care for Éponine. Very deeply. No matter how much he denied it. That's why he's risking this much to protect her. That's why it bothers him so much that he hurt her.
And that, above all else, Enjolras could respect, even if it irritated the jealous corner of his brain a little. If Montparnasse cared about Éponine and wanted to protect her… that made him ok in Enjolras' book. Despite the assassin thing. God, what has my life become… he wondered to himself momentarily.
Enjolras decided the best course of action was the simplest one. "Thank you" he said.
"It's… whatever. Anyway, I'll let you get back to her. I'll keep an eye, but I'll only be in touch if I need to be."
"Thanks. I erm... won't tell her."
Montparnasse looked at the floor, rubbing his lips together, before looking up. "Thanks"
"No problem. Goodbye, Montparnasse." He turned to go.
"Hey, erm… Enjolras?" Enjolras spun back around to face Montparnasse, who looked almost like a young boy in the pale moonlight, pain splashed across his features: even the ice-cold eyes were fogging over a little.
"You should tell her, you know… what you already kind of told her? If you know for certain, tell her. She deserves that much at least. God knows I wish I did."
Enjolras had no idea what to say, so he just nodded. Montparnasse raised his arms to lazily cross them across his chest again: the mask was back in place. "See you later, Pretty Boy" he drawled.
Enjolras turned back around again, his heart sinking as he gazed at the prospect of scaling the wall again… why couldn't he just have met me in a café or something?! he grumbled internally.
"It's easier if you use the ivy, by the way" he heard from behind him. He wheeled around again, but the graveyard seemed empty. Dick.
As he landed on the other side of the wall a few minutes later, he begrudgingly admitted that maybe it was a little easier if you used the ivy. But Montparnasse was still a dick.
Éponine was sat up in Enjolras' bed, and she was getting frustrated. Surely he wouldn't be much longer… it was gone 1am and she was sure that text would have been enough to stop him pulling one of his 3 am Musain sessions.
Just then, she heard the click of the lock on the front door, and she pricked her ears. Combeferre or Enjolras…? She definitely didn't want to get them mixed up. Not after last time…
The soft rustle of a coat hitting the sofa confirmed it: Enjolras. She grinned wickedly, then frantically got herself in position: lip-gloss on, pillows plumped, leaning elegantly against them (probably… she felt kind of elegant, anyway), silk robe arranged just so (Cosette gave her an old one… it was like wearing a goddamn waterfall), hair falling as nicely as could be expected, boobs shoved up enough by this stupid bra to make it look like she actually had some, matching underwear (fancy lacy ones as well… she'd treated herself with this months' wages and had been waiting for an excuse to use them ever since), legs stretched out… it'd do. Grabbing her handwritten Peter Pan off the dresser, she pretended to be demurely reading, just as she heard a soft knock, then her bedroom door opening.
The familiar mess of blonde curls rounded the door, followed by those aggressively blue eyes… which widened somewhat when they caught sight of her. Bingo she thought. As Enjolras just about fell into her room, pushing the door shut behind him, she smiled innocently at him.
"Hey Enj. How'd the rest of the meeting go?"
"It… well… what are you?!" he was so flustered, she almost burst out laughing.
"Oh me? Just doing a spot of light reading. Peter Pan… heard of it?"
He narrowed his rapidly darkening blue eyes at her with a barely contained smile.
"And it was just so hot in here… must be all those passionate speeches…"
She actually got a surprise, as one second he was stood by the door laughing to himself under his breath and the next he was on top of her, kissing her smiling mouth as passionately as that first time in the Musain. Her breath left her almost immediately and she threw Peter Pan onto the nightstand so she could wrap her arms around his next and laugh into his mouth as he whispered "God, you're killing me" into hers.
"Well," she gasped out, "don't make big passionate speeches if you don't want me all hot and bothered because… WOW… because it was really sexy."
He lifted his head up, leaning up on his arms to look her in the eyes. "If this is the result" he grinned, "I'm making them every damn day."
Éponine grinned, leaning up to capture his lips in hers again, hungry for the feel of his skin on hers. As she pulled off his shirt, he mumbled "where'd you get the robe?"
"Cosette."
"EW, take it off" he almost shouted, sliding it gently but quickly down her arms.
"What?" she laughed back.
"I feel like Pontmercy. It's weird. That's your lingerie, right?"
She spluttered out a "yes!" through her laughter as he kissed his way down her throat.
"Oh thank God."
Later, Enjolras lay snoring quietly beside her with his arms around her waist, but Éponine was wide awake, her brain working in overdrive.
She could have sworn she heard him say it again; heard it fall off his lips into hers with a sigh. Had his lips even moved? Was she imagining it? Was it just a breath, warped by their mouths? Just an exhalation of ecstasy?
It wasn't like she could ask, either. "Oh hey, Enj? You know last night, mid-sex, did you tell me you loved me? Because that's a big deal." …she'd sound like an idiot. A desperate idiot. What if he hadn't said it, but felt like he HAD to because she brought it up, but he didn't really feel it…?!
Or what if he HAD said it but he didn't really and it was just in the heat of the moment but he felt like he had to say it again because she called him out?!
Or worse, what if he didn't say it again and she had to pretend like it wasn't a big deal?!
No, she couldn't say anything.
She also couldn't sleep.
Éponine sighed, settling herself in for a night of restless internal fighting. Oh good she thought irritably. I'd missed these…
He was pretty sure she was asleep, but kept up the fake snores anyway.
WHAT THE HELL?!
WHY DID I SAY THAT?!
I NEED TO STOP LETTING THIS SPILL OUT AT TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE MOMENTS!
YOU DON'T TELL YOUR GIRLFRIEND YOU LOVE HER FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE MIDDLE OF SEX FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
OR WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK!
ENJOLRAS, YOU ARE THE WORST BOYFRIEND EVER!
Did she notice?
GOD, I hope she didn't notice.
If she did, she didn't say it back…
I'm a MESS!
After inwardly beating himself up for a little longer, he realised he wasn't going to get any sleep that night, not while he wondered whether she'd heard, or if she'd say anything… God, he was such an idiot.
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