Joly left after examining her, it made her extremely uncomfortable how much of her body he must now have seen, and she was alone in the apartment. So I think we can all guess what she did - Éponine Thérnardier is nothing is not proud and stubborn. She flung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling the pain in her ribs but paying it no heed, and forced herself into a standing position, Enjolras shirt fell and brushed against the top of her thighs. Éponine looked down at herself and noticed how clean she was - probably the cleanest she had ever been since she was a child - she ran hers hands through her hair noting the last of tangles and the smoothness of it.
"What the…?" she muttered moving to look into a mirror that she could see on the back of the wardrobe door though by the dust covering it she was sure Enjolras didn't use it.
She did a double take, not recognising her own face, but eventually managed to think about clothing. She blushed as she looked down at Enjolras top but where had her clothes been put. She padded softly around his room but, when finding nothing, out into the main apartment. It wasn't that large. There was a door opposite which Éponine found led to a another bedroom - Combeferre's, we know - that was a lot messier, one direction from their room was a door at the end of the corridor - a bathroom - and the other way was the living area. Her clothes were not in the apartment and she sighed heavily: she couldn't go out in Enjolras top.
She went to sit on the sofa when, to her relief, she saw there was clothing there. Praying it was hiding her stuff she picked it up only to realise they were dresses and her stuff was not there. She held up a dress and studied it. Could she wear such an expensive dress, she didn't deserve to, but then she had to find Gavaroche. She battled between the two sides, a gamine should not be seen in such beautiful clothing, but eventually decided that it was her only option and now she was actually clean enough to pass without too much suspicion. As long as she didn't speak and they noticed that lack of bourgeois accent and vocabulary.
She tried not to look at her body, now littered with more scars than ever, as she dressed quickly, ignoring every stab of pain that shot through her - she could deal with it. She didn't know what to do with her hair so just left in hanging, running her fingers through it in an attempt to brush it, and hoped it wouldn't draw attention to her. Eventually she slipped out of the apartment.
It was midday and she stepped out of the building and looked around. She knew all of Paris quite well but this was an area that was at the lower end of her knowledge because it was near the university. She wondered through the streets for a while until she saw something that she knew and then breathed a sigh of relief.
She went to Gavaroche's elephant to begin with, calling his name into and begging for him to reply but she only got silence from the great structure. She sighed heavily. She was going to go back to Enjolras' eventually and he was going to be absolutely furious at her, she would have liked to have done this without going into the underbelly. She headed in the direction of her family's apartment, trying not to imagine his or Marius' reaction. Instead she focused on the relief on his face when he saw her wake and the way he said her name - it was stupid for her to daydream of this, she thought, because it would only hurt her in the long run. She imagined her was walking beside her as she got closer to the apartment but her image was shattered at a voice.
"Tut, tut, Éponine, did you really come back here?" she froze at the sound of Brujon's, a member of the Patron-Minette, voice. "You must have a death wish."
She turned slowly and looked at them, the Patron-Minette looked murderous and she realised that her father hadn't been drunk enough to forget his threat. It wasn't all of them though, her father, Montparnasse and Babet weren't in the group in front of her.
"What happened to you? Some bourgeois find you?" Claquesous spoke this time, his eyes scanning her figure as they all took a menacing step closer. Éponine raised her chin to show she was not afraid of them.
"You could say that."
"Well, I hope they won't miss you," Gueulemer mocked just before he pounced and grabbed her.
She screamed - the Les Amis were going to be pissed. She struggled against Gueulemer's hold but, Joly had been right, she was weaker than she used to be at the moment, that or he had gotten stronger. The other two laughed at her feeble attempts to free herself. Brujon threw the first punch and Gueulemer had the last kick once he had dropped her to the floor. Éponine knew they would have continued, her father threat had clearly meant he'd kill her, had it not been for the voice that echoed out from the top of the street.
The calm wave washed over Éponine despite the pain she was in - she thinks she has reopened some of her injuries from last week. Enjolras. The Patron-Minette laughed. Éponine could hear his footsteps coming closer and wondered momentarily if he was aware that it was her. She rolled over to look at him and the look of pure fury he gave her told her that yes he was aware.
"Deal with him, Gueulemer," Claquesous growled but Enjolras was too quick for them.
They seemed to forget about Éponine as the Patron-Minette moved onto Enjolras but he was too strong for them - these men were generally conners not fighters whereas Enjolras was planning a revolution, he could fight. Éponine pushed herself up against the wall breathing harshly as she watched terrified but slowly, one by one, the Patron went down, knocked out not dead and Enjolras feel to his knees in front of her.
"Are you alright?" he asked panting and she nodded, her mouth ajar and her eyes slightly wider than usual.
"Are- are you?" she managed to force out.
"Yes but that doesn't matter," he said pulling her up by the tops of her arms. "What were you thinking? Éponine, I -"
Éponine didn't want to listen to another one of his speeches, though was usually all for it, she was hurt and tired and just wanted to leave. I suppose we can say this impaired her judgement a bit because, instead of cutting him off with words, she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips firmly to his. He froze and Éponine slowly pulled back as though his sudden statue impression had reminded her of what she was doing. She could feel her cheeks heating up and there was no dirt to hide that fact this time. He stared down at her with his eyes wide and Éponine opened her mouth to apologise but never got the chance.
His arms slipped around her waist and pulled her against him with a force that almost hurt and made it Éponine's turn to be surprised as he lowered his head to her height and kissed her again. This one lasted longer though it took her a little while to respond but when she did it was with fervour. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself up even closer. Her feet dangled off the ground as she did so and his arms tightened. Their lips were crashed together moving quickly, their tongues clashing. It was a passionate embrace that's for certain and only stopped when Éponine let out a small squeak of pain.
He pulled back and set her back on the ground breathing heavily but just stared down at her in concern. She smirked as she took in his appearance now, his hair and complete mess from where she had pulled on it and ran her hands through, his lips swollen slightly and parted as he breathed heavily, he looked even better than he had when she woke up. She had never imagined Enjolras looking like this - it was the trademark of being thoroughly kissed.
"Come on, let's get you to Joly," it seemed his anger had been put out for the time beginning and he actually smiled at her. Her breath caught in her throat but she managed to smile back. "I will get Gavaroche, Les Amis will get him out, and you will heal."
They were simple statements, orders practically that were not up for discussion and she actually resisted the urge to glare because she didn't want to ruin this by fighting with him. Why had he kissed her anyway? He knew everything now, he should discarding her, he should not be holding her close to him and protecting her. She was a gamine, she was dark, shadows, terror and pain whilst he was like the sun, bright and passionate, burning so brightly it often hurt her eyes. This would not last long she was sure but she took his offered arm and allowed him to lead her back into the direction of the flat, willing to enjoy being with the man we already said she knew she was little in love with while it lasted.
"What's your name?" she grinned up at him as he laughed loudly, a sound she had never heard before, he was always so serious. "Shh!"
She glanced around nervously since they were still in her area of town and she didn't want to draw anyone out. Her 'shh' was shaking as she giggled slightly.
"Antoine," he told her.
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