[The Prompt: This one has to be a scene with Jehan! I’m talking flowers and braids! Why is he such a cutie?]
Going to the ABC café before the meetings were held was a something that Amorette loved to do the most. She spent the rest of the day sewing clothing for the rich, all the while her head was swimming with the images of the boys. To her, they were more gallant and brave than the National Guard, and of course much more friendly. No matter what she was doing while they were having a meeting, just simply being in the atmosphere of the Les Amis was something that was pure bliss to her.
She walked into the café with her head held high; today she had decided that she would try particularly hard to make sure that Enjolras would pay attention to her. Amorette had put on her best dress, it was clean and blue, unstained by the mud of the streets. It was given to her by her late mother, and just now had it began to fit right. Her black hair was hanging down to her chest and was out of its normal bonnet. She hated the way her hair looked, but figured that it would make Enjolras keener to look at her if something was different about her. Amorette whistled a tune while she pushed open the door and took in the beautiful sight of the vacant café. Well vacant, except for one person. “M’sieur Prouvaire?” she said aloud, starling the young romantic that was sitting by himself at a table next to the window.
“Oh, you’ve startled me, young Miss.” Jehan replied, gaining back his breath, his hand over his chest in surprise.
“My apologies, Monsieur, I always come in a bit early to get started on my sewing.” Amorette replied, and gave Jehan a sweet little smile. “Are you working on a new poem?” she asked, and began slowly walking towards the man sitting at the table. She always found Jehan to be a very interesting man, and couldn’t help but wonder why he did not have a lady at home.
“Yes,” laughed Jehan “I suppose I am. Outside the window…that streets look so sad,” he began, beckoning Amorette over with his eyes. She followed his gaze to the windows, and looked out upon the darkening streets. Jehan was correct, they looked so horribly sad. “But there, by the street lamp,” he put his finger up to the window, marking a spot with his hand. “A single flower lye beside a pile of filth. It says that beautiful things can still be in places that are not. That is what my poem is about.”
A smile spread across her pale face. “That sounds beautiful, Monsieur.” Amorette said lightly, and ran her hands through her hair.
Jehan turned around quickly, “Your hair is down today, madam. It is very lovely.” He said sweetly, giving Amore an innocent smile.
“Oh, I rather resent it; I think it’s perfectly awful. But I thought that after having it in a bonnet for so long, it would be nice to finally let it free.” She replied, and stroked her long black locks. There was nothing interesting about the hair; it was simply just black with no texture at all. It was very seldom freshly clean because taking a bath with clean water was something that she could hardly ever do. Tonight she did wash it though, and it was looking splendid, but felt heavy against her shoulders.
“Oh Madam don’t be silly, it’s very lovely.” Jehan encouraged, making Amore’s cheeks glow pink. “But if you really do not like it down, perhaps I could braid it for you.” He continued, and Amore nodded timidly, thinking that Enjolras might find braids to be beautiful. “Here then, take my seat.” Jehan got up, offering for her to sit where he was. Gingerly, she sat down in his spot and threw her hair over her shoulder with the flick of her hand.
She felt his finger weave her hair in and out, creating a beautiful plait on the back of her head. Amorette could tell that it was going to look splendid, and began to relax into the seat as she felt the soft touch of Jehan’s hands on her hair. Amorette reached down and pulled a ribbon off of her dress, and handed it back to Jehan as he quickly finished the braid, and tied it up with the blue ribbon.
