The Dark of Ages Past-An Enjolras Fanfiction

Chapter 1 Just One Burst of Light

"Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend."

                                        —Sarah Beason, Someone Like You

Chapter 1 Just One Burst of Light

Lissette

"What are you doing?" a small voice asks me from above. I look up. A young boy, probably about my age, looks inquisitively down at me, crouched on the trash-covered street.

"Catching my breath." I reply curtly. It is clear not only from the way the boy is dressed--in a nice red coat and clean, ironed black trousers--but also from the way he carries himself, the way he speaks, that he does not belong here. This boy comes from money. I should know; I was not too young to remember when my Papa died, though I was only eight. I used to dress like that. I think. And walk with pride and speak precisely. The thought fills me with anger. Why does this boy get to grow up never knowing hunger and all the other street urchins and I are left to starve? Why did my Papa have to die?

 I push myself to my feet, brushing the dirt off of my ragged dress and ignoring the hand the boy extends to help me up. I walk a few paces and pick up my empty pouch. Perfect. I think. That was my lunch, you jerks! I yell silently at the bigger kids that ambushed me. I scowl. They're long gone, of course, probably holed up munching on the two rolls I managed to steal from the bakery yesterday. Looks like I'm not eating today. Again. "Grr!" I groan, throwing the empty pouch to the ground.

"What's wrong?" A soft voice asks, close behind me.

If the voice had not been so obviously out of place here I would have whirled around with fists swinging, thinking it was some other street urchin looking to steal my food—though I no longer have anything to steal. Instead I whip around angrily, my face already red before I even start yelling. "What's wrong? A bunch of boys that are bigger and stronger than me just came and stole my food, so now I don't get to eat tonight. I don't expect you to understand this, but starving to death? It's not fun." I snap.

The boy stares at me for a moment and then reaches his hand into the small leather pouch hanging at his hip. I cringe and take a step back, closing my eyes. I cover my face with my arm, afraid that he might pull out a weapon.

I hold that position for a few seconds, expecting some kind of blow, but nothing happens. I open my eyes a crack and lower my arm.

The boy stands there with his arm extended, offering me a roll and a block of cheese wrapped in a clean white cloth. I look into his eyes; there is a cautious expression there, as if he is watching a frightened animal that might flee if he moves too quickly. I suppose that is what I look like. It is definitely how I feel.

"Here." he offers. "You can have it, really." He takes a hesitant step toward me. I watch him like a hawk, still not quite sure that his intentions are harmless, but I don't back away again; there is no malice in his face or his body, and my stomach growls annoyingly, reminding me how long it has been since I last ate.

He pauses a foot away from me. I can see him thinking, probably trying to gage how close he can get without causing me to run. I sigh, eyeing the food, and relax my muscles to let him know that it is okay to approach. He steps forward again, a bit less hesitantly, and gently takes my hand, placing the small packet of food in my palm. I tense just slightly at the unfamiliar touch but remain where I am.

The boy lowers his hand slowly. "I'm Enjolras." he says. "Well, Enjolras is my last name, but you can call me that, most people do; I don't like my first name much." he smiles at me. "What's your name?"

"Lissette." I whisper.

Enjolras bows deeply. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madamoiselle Lissette." He grins at me, and for the first time, I examine him as a person instead of a threat. He is not exceptionally tan, but his skin is darker than mine. He has curly brown hair and dark brown eyes that smile at me warmly.

I return his bow with a curtsy of my own and smile just a little. The happiness on his face is contagious.

"The pleasure is mine, Monsieur Enjolras." I giggle; I think I have found a friend.

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I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! On the side is a picture of a hyacinth and don't forget to check the introduction for a picture of Enjolras (once he is grown up, of course).