10It was about 9 PM, and Eponine had all but given up hope of seeing Marius. He had promised to come by tonight to celebrate her birthday with her, but Eponine should have known that wouldn't happen.
She supposed that she sort of did know. After all, her roommate, Cosette, had mentioned something about a date with Marius tonight, but Eponine hadn't really been listening. Or maybe she didn't want to listen.
"The problem with me," Eponine muttered under her breath as she threw open the refrigerator door, "is that I can't get my stupid heart to cooperate." No matter how much she tried to suppress it, there'd always be part of Eponine that hoped for a smile or touch, despite knowing Marius could never be hers.
There was nothing in the fridge. Of course there wouldn't be, Eponine thought in annoyance, slamming the door shut. Cosette was usually in charge of the food because Eponine was hopeless at cooking. But Cosette was out with Marius and had no reason to cook today. Now that she thought about it, Eponine seemed to remember promising Cosette to go grocery shopping...well, so much for that.
Sighing, she leaned her head against the fridge door. She felt utterly alone...again.
At that moment, two sharp knocks at the door sent her heart racing. The bitterness was instantly replaced with soaring hope. Could it be — ? Eponine hated herself for wishing, knowing her hopes were likely to be crushed, but she just couldn't help it.
Hesitantly, holding her breath, Eponine opened the door. Oh. There stood a blonde-haired boy with blue eyes, who Eponine recognized as one of Marius' friends. She couldn't quite remember his name, but it didn't matter. Not Marius. Feeling deflated, Eponine eyed the boy irritably.
"What is it?" Her eyes traveled down to the white box he held. "If you're selling something, I don't want it."
The boy blinked slowly, his lips curled up slightly in a smirk. Enjolras. That was his name. "Do you usually greet people in this way, Eponine?" She glared back at him, and his smirk grew. "No, I'm not selling something. This is from Marius." Eponine perked up at the mention of his name, happiness flooding through her. "It's your birthday cake," Enjolras explained as he handed it to her. "He's out with Cosette tonight, and Courfeyrac's off at some party or other, so Marius asked me to give you this."
Eponine stared down at the cake, the happiness slowly trickling out of her at the mention of the date and Marius' roommate's party. Everyone was off having fun except for her, it seemed, despite it being her birthday. She was hit by an overwhelming wave of loneliness and frustration. This was tiring — chasing after a boy who would never notice her, always allowing herself to dream and then have having her hopes crushed. All Eponine really wanted was a true friend; somebody she could talk to, somebody who genuinely wanted her company.
"Well, happy birthday, I guess." Enjolras' blue eyes met Eponine's brown ones, and her heart wrenched at the thought of being left by herself once again.
Before realizing what she was doing, Eponine blurted out, "Stay." Surprise flashed across Enjolras' eyes, breaking his usual cool marble exterior. Eponine cursed inwardly. What on earth had she been thinking?! She hardly even knew Enjolras. There was no way she could back out now, though. Taking a deep breath, she tried to compose herself and appear calm and collected.
"I, uh," Enjolras stammered, "I don't — I don't know if I can." Eponine had recovered enough by now to raise an eyebrow. Enjolras, known for his smooth way with words, stuttering? Unheard of. "I have a book report to write, and some reading to catch up on..."
He was obviously making excuses, and not quite meeting Eponine's eyes. "What's the matter, Enjolras?" Eponine teased, hoping he wouldn't notice the way her cheeks were slightly flushed. "Never spent much time in the company of a girl before?"
His lips tightened, and she realized that was probably true. The few times she had hung out with Marius and his friends, she'd never heard of Enjolras having a girlfriend. While the others teased each other about girls, Enjolras sat off to the side with his nose buried in some book or debating some political issue with Combeferre. He seemed far too immersed in his studies and politics to think of much else.
Perhaps Enjolras was as lonely as she was.
"It's my birthday," Eponine reminded him softly. He blinked slowly, then nodded. A grin broke across Eponine's face, showing her dimples and lighting up her whole face. Enjolras smiled back warily as she let him inside.
"Have you eaten dinner yet?" Eponine asked as she set the cake on the kitchen table. Raising the lid, she frowned a little as she peered inside. The cake was vanilla. Eponine was certain that she'd mentioned to Marius before that she preferred chocolate. Sighing, she closed the lid again.
"Well, yeah," Enjolras replied. "It is nine, after all." He seemed to have recovered and was back to being the cool, distant Enjolras that Eponine knew — however, a glance showed her the way he kept his hands in his pockets, shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. He looked about as awkward as she felt.
"Well, care for some dessert?" Eponine nodded towards the cake. "I can't finish this all by myself."
Enjolras shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He headed over as Eponine got out the plates, forks, and a knife, trying to ignore the heavy awkwardness between them. Before she could begin cutting the cake, however, Enjolras stopped her. "Wait." She glanced up, surprised. "Don't you have candles, or something?"
Eponine shook her head. "Then at least make a wish," Enjolras said, his lips curled up slightly. Eponine smirked, but despite how foolish she felt, she closed her eyes. Out of instinct, Eponine began to wish about Marius, but this time she stopped herself. It was stupid to keep wishing for something that would never happen, and she kept telling herself that, but this time she needed to actually accept it.
The room was silent enough that Eponine could hear Enjolras' soft breathing across from her. Maybe Marius could never happen, but Enjolras did. He was here with her, and he was real. Perhaps Eponine could finally find a friend who genuinely cared about her.
When she opened her eyes, Eponine was surprised to see Enjolras staring at her. His blue eyes were strangely soft and caused her to suddenly feel uncomfortable. Heat rose to her cheeks and Eponine looked down, trying to focus on cutting the cake rather than the golden-haired boy in front of her.
Once the cake had been cut and served, Eponine found the courage to look back up again. The softness in Enjolras' eyes was gone, and Eponine wondered if she had imagined it. Probably.
The next half hour was filled with awkward small talk in between bites of cake. Eponine learned that Enjolras, too, preferred chocolate. Once they'd eaten until they were both too full for another bite, Eponine glanced up at Enjolras. What now? Her eyes traveled around the room and fell on a stack of board games in the corner of the living room. She'd always wondered why they were even there to begin with - it wasn't like anyone was using them. Oh well; they came in handy now. "You like chess?"
He replied that yes, he indeed liked chess. When Eponine asked how good he was at it, Enjolras shrugged. "I'm not bad."
As it turned out, that was a huge understatement. Eponine was no match for Enjolras' battle tactics. She was too impulsive, and took too many risks. He won the game in under ten minutes, and Eponine was too proud for a rematch, knowing she would probably only lose again.
"I still think you cheated," Eponine complained. She was curled up on one side of the couch, arms wrapped around her legs, and Enjolras was seated comfortably on the other side. He smirked and shook his head. The atmosphere between them was less tense and awkward, now that they had warmed up to each other, and Eponine could feel herself relaxing.
"No, Eponine, I didn't cheat. That was pure skill." She scowled at him, only causing his smirk to grow.
Enjolras was definitely opening up more, Eponine realized as his eyes wandered around the room. The cold marble shell he always seemed to have about him was beginning to crack.
"What's your favorite book?" Enjolras asked, cutting through Eponine's thoughts. His eyes were fixed on the full bookshelf resting against the wall. "I'm assuming those books are yours and not your roommates," he added.
Eponine smiled. "They're mine. My favorite is probably Pride and Prejudice." She remembered reading it when she was younger and wishing for her own Mr. Darcy. She'd always thought that it would be Marius, but here she was at 18 years of age and that was far from happening.
Enjolras nodded. "I read that once." They were silent for a couple of seconds.
"What's your favorite color?" Eponine asked impulsively, not wanting the conversation to stop.
Enjolras' lips twitched upwards. "Red." His eyes crinkled when he smiled.
They spent the next hour or so asking each other questions. Birthdays, pets, favorite subjects, hobbies — anything. The questions ranged from deep to extremely random, and with each passing minute, Eponine found herself appreciating Enjolras more and more. For once, Marius was in the back of her mind, and even if she could — Eponine found this somewhat hard to admit, even to herself — she wouldn't replace Enjolras with Marius this evening.
Because never had Marius looked at her the way Enjolras did, like she was special and worth talking to. Never had Marius listened the way Enjolras did — intently, quietly, like he genuinely cared about what she had to say. And when Marius talked, he never strung his words together with the grace Enjolras had, and it never felt like the world around them stopped to listen to him speak.
No, Enjolras was not Marius, but tonight, Eponine was glad to have Enjolras.
These were the thoughts swirling around in her mind when he asked her, "What are your parents like?" Eponine tensed, the smile on her face disappearing. Enjolras noticed and added hastily, "If you don't want to talk about it, I understand. It's fine, I'll ask a different question." He paused, searching for a question to ask, then opened his mouth, but Eponine cut in before he could start.
"No, I want to talk about it," she said decisively. She'd never told anyone about her family because of two reasons: one, nobody had ever asked before and she knew they probably didn't care; two, she was worried that it would make her seem weak. However, Enjolras was different. He had asked, and Eponine felt like he genuinely did care — furthermore, she had the feeling that Enjolras wouldn't judge her. With him, she felt safe and able to be herself.
And so Eponine told Enjolras her story. She told him with a wistful smile how she used to adore her parents, how they used to pamper her and give her everything she wanted. He listened attentively as she told him about the day she found out that they were illegal drug dealers, and how her father had threatened her with unspeakable things to make sure she kept the secret. She told him how her relationship with her parents was never the same after that, and how they nearly didn't let her skip seventh grade because they believed she wasn't worth it.
Here Eponine's voice broke, and without knowing completely what he was doing, Enjolras slid across the couch to her and hugged her close.
She didn't stop, though her voice began to be choked with tears, continuing to tell him of the many blows she would receive daily. She told him of her younger brother, Gavroche, who did what she was too cowardly to do and ran away from home. She told him of her little sister, Azelma, whom she just wanted to keep safe, away from the life Eponine knew.
"Azelma lives with her friend, Rose, now," Eponine murmured as Enjolras stroked her hair softly. "I don't know where Gavroche is, but I hope he's safe. Safe and happy."
"It's not fair, Eponine," Enjolras said, rage barely contained in his voice. Surprised, Eponine glanced up at him. His blue eyes were bright with fury.
Eponine sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. "The world isn't fair, Enjolras," she said with a shrug.
"Why? Why do people like you have to suffer like this? While others live a perfect life, always content, always happy... Why can't everyone's lives be like that?"
Eponine couldn't help but smile at his unrealistic ideals. "Enjolras... you are a truly wonderful person."
Enjolras hesitated, then glanced down at her. His blue eyes were softer than ever, and Eponine felt her heart leap in her chest. He smiled, and said quietly, "'In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.'"
Eponine was speechless for a few seconds before managing to stutter out, "I thought you said you only read it once!" Enjolras grinned, but before he could reply, Eponine — impulsive as always — was pressing her lips onto his.
She pulled back after a few seconds and wrapped her arms around him tightly, resting her face against his chest. She could feel his heart pounding as quickly as hers was, and she smiled. "Thank you, Enjolras. For everything."
He pressed his lips lightly to the top of her head. "Happy birthday, Eponine."