I come to fight. Or at least, to listen.

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

~Murky~

A woman in her mid-forties (Joly had called two of his parent's servants earlier) set the table before Joly and Evelyn arrived. Finer china than Evelyn had ever seen in her life sat in abundance before her. Silver utensils and linen napkins framed the plates. She almost didn't want food to touch it. 

Evelyn and Joly waited for Enjolras to come to dinner for 10 minutes. Evelyn offered to go up to his room and get him.

She knocked on Enjolras's door. No response. She knocked again, impatiently. 

No response. At that point, she just opened the door. 

His room was formatted pretty much the same as hers, except the desk that was in place of the vanity. The curtains billowed from an open window. 

Evelyn ran to it and stuck her head out of it, looking down. An indent was in she soil straight below her. "JOLY!" She called out, "Joly we have a runaway!"  

They both flew out the front door. Evelyn suggested they try the bridge first. Might as well look where we don't want to see him. 

Evelyn and Joly speed-walked past the people in the streets. They were trying not to attract attention to themselves, but Evelyn bumped into a few people, forgetting to say sorry. 

............................................................................................................................................................

Enjolras sat on the side of the stone bridge, his legs dangling off.  The Seine swirled twenty feet below. A few people walked behind him. He heard them murmur something about the crazy man on the bridge. Enjolras was fine with that. He swung his feet back and forth, his hands in his lap, looking down into the murky water. 

............................................................................................................................................................

As Evelyn neared the bridge, she saw a figure sitting on the edge. Merde! That stupid idiot is going to be the end of me. She sprinted to it, sub-conscious panic gripping her chest.

............................................................................................................................................................

Enjolras placed his hands on the stony ledge and breathed in. He pushed off.

But he didn't fall. He felt a small hand grab the back of his collar, suspending him for a moment.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Evelyn lunged at him just in time. She tried to grab the ledge with the other hand, but Enjolras was too heavy and her shoulder didn't have enough strength to it yet. Instead, they both crashed into the tepid river.  

Their bodies collided when they hit the water and Evelyn's face hit Enjolras's knee. They both sunk as Evelyn held tight to Enjolras's collar and he made no effort to swim up. Joly must not've been too far behind because they heard another splash in the water and saw a white cloud of bubbles next to them. 

Joly lifted Enjolras up, and Evelyn kicked herself to the surface, gasping for air. Enjolras tried to shove Joly off, but Joly wasn't letting him go anywhere. Luckily, they were close enough to the banks so that it didn't take too much effort to get to them. Evelyn's leg and shoulder protested even the short distance. 

They aimed for a park that met the concrete banks, so they could easily hoist themselves to dry land. Joly almost slammed Enjolras onto the grass, trying to knock some sense into him. He let go of him and gave his hand to Evelyn, who was dragged down by her dress. She laid on her back on the grass, trying to catch her breath. She wanted to ask Enjolras, "What, were trying to get yourself killed?!" But Evelyn already knew the answer. She pitied Enjolras. His friends were dead, and he blamed himself for it. 

Joly, Enjolras, and Evelyn walked back in silence. 

............................................................................................................................................................

It was dusk when the trio made it back to the house. Blood had seeped though the bandages on Evelyn's shoulder, further ruining Cosette's dress. A knot formed on her right cheek where Enjolras's knee had hit it. She tried to keep her teeth from chattering. 

She had another bath, and Joly had to re-sanitize and re-stitch both her's and Enjolras's wounds. Joly did it with a smile, but Evelyn could tell he was starting feel abused. Evelyn descended to the study, picked out a thick leather-bound book, and brought it up to her room. All these books reminded her of her own personal collection. She made a mental note to get those sometime. 

The same maid who set the table brought out a tray with fresh bread and beef stew, a gentle smile on her face. Evelyn thanked her, and the maid left after a quiet "you're welcome. The hot broth warmed her insides. 

........................................................................................................................................................

Joly came in to check on his patient after he finished with Enjolras. "Mademoiselle, still feeling up to tomorrow?" he asked from the open door frame. Evelyn lowered the book from her face. 

"Monsieur, I have hardly looked forward to something more," Evelyn said this sincerely. What girl didn't dream of being outfitted like a bourgeoise?

............................................................................................................................................................

As Joly stitched arm, Enjolras looked at him apologetically, tears rimming his pale, gray eyes. Joly squeezed his hand and left. 

Enjolras was a failure. He hated himself. The maid brought in a plate of food, but Enjolras didn't touch it. He rolled over and cried himself to sleep.