A Stolen Heart

Chapter 8

Chapter 8 -

The darkness loomed, invading the room as Eponine scrambled to her feet. There was a dark laugh from the door. Brujon. Maybe she could escape him. No. More cruel mocking laughter from the doorway. Babet. Claqusous. The three men cornered her where she fell against an icy stone wall. Their malicious grins promised impending agony. They sneered down upon her and then it began. Eponine screamed into the dark.

Eponine was screaming. It woke Enjolras with a start. He sat up in horror, searching the room for any sign of danger. There was nothing. He stared incredulously at the girl, shaking and crying.

"Eponine?" He muttered, still foggy from sleep. Her eyes were still closed, the clock read 5.30am. She began hyperventilating and then another guttural shriek ripped from her throat.

"Eponine! Eponine wake up!" Enjolras cried out in alarm, shaking the girl, desperately trying to wake her from we nightmare. Her eyes shot open, wide with panic. She stared at him, her breathing still quick and shallow. Then she burst into tears, overwhelmed from the realisation that it was not real, she was not there anymore.

"Hey, don't cry." Enjolras crooned, slipping his hand back into hers and pulling her up into his arms. They sat together in a tangle of limbs atop the bed, Eponine cried into his shoulder, clinging to him as if letting go of him would send her back into her nightmare.

"Shh, it was just a dream. I'm here, you're safe." He rocked her gently, somehow knowing what to do to calm her, having never comforted a crying girl before. Her sobs did start to subside and she murmured something darkly into his shirt.

"You shouldn't have saved me."

Enjolras pulled away to look at her.

"What do you mean?" His eyes creased with worry.

"I'm not worth it. What if he'd seen you, what if you got hurt because of me? I'm not worth you risking your well-being." She mumbled, unable to make eye contact with the man who had been so kind to her. His hand tilted her chin up.

"Look at me, Eponine." He spoke softly, brushing back her hair as he slid his hands onto her cheeks to hold her face. She nervously looked up to see his fiery ashen eyes locked onto hers. In the murky light of the morning they appeared indigo in colour.

"I'm not afraid of anything. You are most definitely worth it. You are kind and beautiful, and funny and clever. Don't you ever think that way about yourself." His voice was strong but in juxtaposition his words were tender and sweet. Enjolras watched as her eyes were relieved of her sadness and took on a wondrous, doe-eyed quality.

No one had ever called Eponine beautiful before.

She was suddenly very aware of how close he was. She felt his hands heavy on her face and her legs intertwined with his. She could feel his hot breath on her neck; she could even smell his musky scent that clung to his skin. She narrowed the gap between them, leaning in close, his presence was hypnotizing. She waited, giving him time to pull away, and then ever so slightly nudged her lips to his. Again she waited. Enjolras seemed to have frozen. Then, his breathing hitched and he pushed into her lips, kissing her back with a sudden urgency of passion. Eponine gasped and moved her lips with his, she had not imagined his marmoreal lips to be so soft. Marble was, after all, notoriously unyielding.