The Darkest Night Will End

The Enjolras-Coste Flat, Paris, April 16th, 1832

The Enjolras-Coste Flat, Paris, April 16th, 1832

Jacquelyn sighed, staring up at the ceiling, studying the way that the moonlight that slipped through the window danced across the smooth surface.

Slowly they sat up, pulling on a dressing gown and slipping over to their desk, quietly fumbling to light a candle.

It hadn't been more than an hour since Enjolras had bid them good night and slipped away into his room, leaving them to pretend to head to bed as well.

But now they could no longer lay in their bed awake, and so they continue to work on an essay that they had started writing a few days before, rubbing at their eyes with one hand, using the other to begin writing a new paragraph.

Halfway through a sentence, they were interrupted by a soft knock on their door.

Opening it they winced, seeing a tired looking Enjolras, arms crossed over his chest. It was one of the few times they'd ever seen him past 11 while they were at home, and his wearing a nightgown still seemed ever unexplained.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you? I couldn't sleep and I figured I could get some work done and-"

Enjolras sighed, "Jacquelyn, dearest, darling, light of my life, this is the fourth time this week that you've been writing instead of sleeping."

They glanced at their work before looking back at him, "I- don't sleep well anymore. Staying up through the night is- a habit, born from what was once necessary."

"Never mind that-" He shook his head, long hair falling messily about his face as he bit his lip, "I wanted to talk to you. Tell you something."

"Well what is it then?" They asked, reaching up out of habit to tuck some of the hair behind his ear.

He shifted uncomfortably, "Well, you see, I- Perhaps it is better to just show you."

They nodded, and he shifted again for a moment, before he slowly pulled his nightgown over his head, letting the body he was stuck in speak for him. Enjolras searched Jacquelyn's somewhat shocked face, looking for a response.

After a moment they said quietly, "You're- like me."

"I am not a woman." He spat, hastily pulling the nightgown back over his head.

"Not what you were told you were when you were young. But you have a way to be that is you," They explained, "I am a man of the world Enjolras, I have seen and know things beyond the silly question of gender."

"You are- also a man like me?" He asked cautiously.

"No. But I am not quite a woman either. I have not found a correct word for myself," Jacquelyn shook their head sadly, "But no matter. If you were worried that this would change my feelings for you, I can assure you, it doesn't."

Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief, leaning in to press a tiny kiss to their forehead, "Thank you, darling. I was worried about telling you, because I couldn't seem to find an appropriate time to say it and-"

Jacquelyn cut off his rambling with a quick peck to his lips, and a mumbled, "Oh hush," before leaning back in to kiss him again.