young hearts (les mis au)

|| seventeen

pov: enjolras

i dread when school lets out. i just do. it's not because i love school or anything- i do, but that's not why.

my life just frustrates me.

most nights, i meet up with my friends at a local coffee shop. it's a great way to catch up with each other and do our homework, along with free internet access. it's pretty sweet.

well, if some of my friends would stop being so annoying. that'd be the icing on the cake and the cherry on top. but all i have is a vanilla sheet cake life- nothing special or extravagant, nope. just boring.

i close my car door and walk down the driveway to my house- well, my parent's house, more so. they only allow me to live here if i pay a fraction of the bill; therefore, i've had no choice but to pick up a few jobs lately.

i remove my shoes before walking inside as our cat rubs up against my jeans. he digs his little pink nose into my leg and i fight the urge to step on him. his name is ange, which is angel in french. ange has his sweet moments, but i'm just not a cat person. i'm not a fan of white fur on all of my clothes, either.

the door squeals as it closes behind me, and i hear my mom shout, "he's home!" something strange is occurring at the enjolras household.

wait, did they remember this year?

my parents emerge from the kitchen. my mom is holding a cake with lit candles, and my dad is trailing behind her.

"happy birthday!" they exclaim in unison.

i could be pleased- i could be crying tears of joy because my parents remembered that my birthday is today- but i'm not. they've forgotten since i was twelve, or would happen to be few days early or late. their jobs or their status have always overpowered the day i was born. i eventually reached a point where i stopped caring.

i mumbled, "oh thanks, you guys. you didn't have to do this."

"of course we did!" my mom exclaims. her grin is larger than her ego.

i roll my eyes, not expecting them to notice.

they look at me expectantly, but i don't know what to do. i wait patiently for them to tell me.

"blow out the candles," my dad says.

"make a wish!" chimes my mom.

i raise my eyebrows in surprise and do as they say. i hate birthday wishes too. i can recall birthdays, wishing on multiple occasions for my parents to come home from business trips or parties, only for my grandma to remind me that everything will be okay, they're just a little busy right now.

i give them a brief thumbs-up and hurry to my room. it's downstairs, down the short hallway and across from the kitchen. it's a cozy house- cozy for rich people, i suppose. it's still a decent size; however, i'm subjected to a downstairs room when there's three unused bedrooms upstairs.

my parents appear appalled as they watch me from behind.

"wouldn't you like some cake?" my mom asked.

"no thank you, i'm going to cafe musain with my friends."

i hear my dad whisper, "didn't we raise him better?" nothing more.

i toss my school things by my bed and grab my knapsack, heading out the back door. i slide on a pair of sneakers i keep on the back patio where ange greets me once more. i hate how much he loves me. does he not understand my feelings towards him?

thankfully, the musain isn't too far off. i have to walk down a steep hill of houses belonging to cranky old people, which is not a walk in the park by the slightest. they all have angry dogs and for some reason, they're always outside... but i don't catch any of them today, thankfully.

i cut the corner on the sidewalk and start down the street, walking past the library and a few houses before reaching the nice little cafe. it's a small brick building with decorative green gutters and a grey roof. the windows are large and you can easily peer through them.

i open the heavy metal door that's loaded with advertisements and make my way to the back corner. that's where all of my friends are. grantaire, courfeyrac... even marius showed up.

but there's something unusual- someone new is at the table. and it's a girl. she has dark, dark, very dark hair tied up in a messy chignon sort of style- which is very appealing.

i set my bag down on one of the chairs and grab my english binder. i have a book report due in a week that i wants to get out of the way.

i grabbed my favorite pen and begin working.

"thanks, courf, i appreciate the help," the girl says. she has a familiar voice: gentle with a hint of darkness. "maybe i-" she begins, but is quickly cut off when she trips over my chair leg.

she drops all of her things, so i scramble to help her. "here you go, ma'am- éponine?"

"enjolras?"

-

I'M ALIVE I'M ALIVE I AM SOOOOOO ALIVE

I haven't died! sorry y'all, I've been so gone recently :P I promise many more updates soon, I PROMISE!

-anna