beauty and a barricade || enjonine

5: late nights

enjolras groaned and scratched out yet another sentence in his notebook. he typically wasn't one to struggle in preparing speeches. but as the evening progressed, he found his sentences running together. his humor was turning dry and ridiculous. the words he chose weren't matching up correctly and he seemed to have lost all familiarity with proper spelling.

one of the clocks in his home chimed twelve. enjolras's pen fell to the table as he stared at the slowly fading flame of the candle on his desk. it was now midnight, he was tired, the day had been treacherous, he had much to do and very little time to do so, and that explained why his writing was so terrible. he recalled something that joly had told him once after he accidentally fell asleep during a lecture at university.

even the gods slept sometimes, enjolras! he had said. it was playing off of the fact that grantaire had called enjolras 'apollo' various times. if you do not get more sleep, why, i shall have to force you to do so!

enjolras smiled as he reminisced on the memory. if only he had some sort of sorcery that could help him to sleep—but he still had so much to do. there could be sleeping later, but now enjolras had to complete the more significant things.

he stood up, shuffling over to get some water. he poured it in his washbowl and stared at his reflection for a split second before splashing the cold water onto his unruly face. he closed his eyes and allowed the water to drip down his face, his mind reciting the most important things on his agenda currently.

finish the speeches. edit an essay. éponine. pick up fliers. organize les amis. find a spot to give the speech. purchase more ink. tell grantaire—

enjolras's eyes shot open. did he just include éponine in his list of important things?

why was éponine even important, anyway? he had just written to her yesterday. surely he was thinking of the fact that he had to reply to one of her letters.

he dried his face off abruptly, trying to dismiss the thought of éponine.

oh, but there was a white sheet of paper in the reflection, by the door. she must've written. he grabbed the candle and walked down the hall.

when enjolras reached the door, he saw that the object was a folded sheet of paper that had been slid under the door. he leaned down to retrieve it. he smiled when he noticed the origami folding with his name written on the front.

gavroche must have delivered it earlier that night and enjolras was just too busy to notice it. he marveled at the neatly printed name in the candlelight as he retreated back down the hall.

however, rather than responding, he put the letter far from him on the desk and resumed writing his speech. he began to erase the sentences he didn't like, and wrote remarks that seemed somewhat usable in the future— but it was late and he just could not focus. his eyes kept drifting back to the letter.

enjolras scolded himself. why should he care so much about some silly letter?

he sighed, surrendering all of his work. it was much too late at night to try and write a remarkable speech, but not too late to respond to éponine's letter. he relaxed in his chair to read the message.

Monsieur Enjolras,

I certainly am not offended. Your curiosity is natural, as all is. I was taught simple reading and writing from those who came to stay at the inn my parents owned, and when I got a bit older, I taught myself. It wasn't a simple task, of course, but I was eager. I envy your university studies. You must learn so much so quickly.