beauty and a barricade || enjonine

3: éponine

enjolras felt a sudden, sharp poking on his arm. he slowly blinked his eyes open to catch a sight of gavroche, the young street urchin who bravely took part in les amis.

"gavroche?" he asked.

"do you live here?" the boy asked right away, cocking his head to the side.

enjolras ran a hand through his curls, still half-asleep. "no. i suppose that i just fell asleep as i was working last night." his eyes glanced over the many maps, books, and jars of ink spread over the table. "what brings you here, to me?"

gavroche dug his hand into his pocket before grabbing a slip of paper. the dirt on the gamin's hands smeared onto the letter. "a lil' note. from a girl! éponine!" there was a giddiness in gavroche's voice that conveyed the fact he didn't know the truth.

enjolras was stoic as he accepted the letter. "thank you, gavroche."

"what does it say?" he grinned. "can i read it? oh, please, enjolras? courfeyrac has been teaching me!"

the leader shook his head. "sorry, gav. it's a personal affair."

disappointment and understanding prevailed on gavroche's dirty face. "a'ight. good day, monsieur enjolras." he hopped about as he traveled down the staircase.

enjolras marveled at the letter he had receive— particularly the folding. it was folded as though it was origami, delicately and without flaw. he partially didn't want to unfold it, but the other half or so of enjolras knew reading it was a necessity.

the hand writing wasn't very neat, however, and more scrawly that anything else, but it was legible.

Dear Monsieur Enjolras,

Lately I have been used to deliver letters to others. It feels quite good to be delivering a letter I have written myself.

I understand your concern with my presence at the Cafe- but I guarantee that it is harmless. These days, I know it is important to take extra care with strangers, which I am to almost everyone. But I do not approve of any insults you have towards Marius. He is my dear, loyal friend, and maybe you should get to know him. Apparently you do not.

I would also like to add that other than a few days of starvation, I assume I am in good health as far as I am aware.

Returning to your main interest, I believe that joining your revolution would be a thing I should do. To consider my life at home (what I seem to have of it), I suppose I shall stand for something good rather than....

the ink began to blur as enjolras read the final part of her statement, as though she had tried to erase it somehow.

My name is Éponine, by the way.

P.S. What a strange thing it is to ask someone, of their physical health. I am excited to meet Monsieur Joly.

P.S.S. Also, do not ask my last name. I would rather not be associated with my parents.

enjolras folded the letter back, blinking in surprise. he didn't expect a response so quick— in fact, he didn't expect a reply at all.

there were certain remarks that seemed to glow brighter than the other statements. 'It feels quite good delivering a letter I have written myself', 'I do not approve of your insults toward Marius', and 'To consider my life at home (what I seem to have of it)...' were what he continued replaying in his mind.

but he didn't question any further. instead, he began cleaning off the table, questions on his mind about éponine. her name was quite beautiful, and very unique. an uncommon name, definitely. he grabbed one of the maps he had, and asked himself, "i wonder what color eyes éponine may have..." though he quickly stopped. he could never approach a woman even if patria depended on it.

he grabbed the container of ink and twisted the cap back on. a drop of the black liquid dripped onto his wrist, and dried to his misfortune, though he found he didn't mind. at least his coat hadn't been stained. that was what's important.

at last, he grabbed his leather messenger bag and began down the stairs. he had a letter to write.