ADIEU » LES MISÉRABLES | ✓

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ACT THREE.

❝ the price of love is loss,
but still we pay.
we love anyway. ❞

___

Claudine had a way of immersing herself into a place. She fiddled with things, with the shiny knobs of his cabinets, with the tiny decorative owl on the mantelpiece, with the edges of his curtains. Everywhere Enjolras looked, she was there, like she was meant to be. The intimacy of it all bewildered him.

Combeferre had instructed her to rest, but she lay there on his couch, her eyes wide. They held so much wonder, so much wistfulness, that he wondered if she was looking beyond the ceiling, into the night sky.

"Are you feeling better?"

She glanced at him. "Yes."

"Well, I was thinking -" he paused. How could he do this to her? Chase her out of the house like she was no better than a stray dog? 

No. He'd talked to Courfeyrac. He'd found another place for her. He wasn't chasing her out, not really. He wasn't that cruel - or was he?

"I was thinking," he continued, "it would be better if you moved out."

Claudine blinked, confusion settling on her face. She started tapping out an irregular rhythm with her fingers.

If Enjolras watched her for any longer, he would feel regret. So he ploughed on. "Courfeyrac has a decent apartment out for rent near the Musain Café. I understand that you have no money with you, so I will be paying your rent if you decide to move."

There was silence. Raw, thundering silence that lasted for an eternity.

"Why?" Claudine blurted out. "Wait - no, I get it." She blinked rapidly, her eyelashes a delicate flutter against her cheeks. "I get it."

"What?"

"I've suspected it all along. You don't like me at all, do you? You can't stand being in my presence any longer. You hate me."

It was Enjolras's turn to be surprised. "I do not." His felt his mouth curving upwards. "You think too much. You're so theatrical."

"Then why?" 

"The revolution is near. I need more space for my work. You were not a burden in any way." Enjolras's voice softened. He leaned against the wall, letting its coolness seep through his clothes. "It was nice, having you here."

He watched Claudine's face carefully. Her eyes were glittering.

Pretty. So pretty.

"I'll move," she said. "Tomorrow."

"Alright." He felt... strange, like there was glitter in his eyes too. "I'll inform Courfeyrac, and take you there."

The conversation should have ended there. He should have walked away. But he hesitated, and Claudine took that moment to leap onto her feet.

She stood in front of him, so close he had to bend to see her face. He could smell her. He could see every detail of her skin. His brain screamed at him to take it all in, to remember, but it was too much. Remembrance was for lesser things, like the color of her eyes or the shape of her face. Things like the pattern of her breath, the intensity of her gaze, the fear of falling right into the endless blues of her eyes, those he could only feel. 

She stretched out her hands and placed them on either side of his face. The curve of his cheekbones fit into the arch of her palms. Instinctively, he bent down further, as if expecting to meet something.

Kiss me, he thought feverishly. At that instant, it was the only logical thing for her to do. 

Naturally, she wouldn't do it. 

Surprise me, she mouthed, and Enjolras stopped thinking, only knew that there were some moments he could never get back. 

He dipped his head and placed his lips against hers. 

___

The kiss, as fleeting and glorious as it had been, was a mistake.

Now he had a reason to look back. All those years of distancing himself had been for nothing. He'd been ready to die, for there was nothing he had wanted to hold on to. But there she was, small and strong and beautiful, and suddenly he hesitated. 

He would be leaving her behind. Moments before his death, he would remember her kiss and foolishly yearn to live again.

___

It was morning, and Claudine blinked the sun from her eyes. She felt strangely disoriented. Enjolras wouldn't look at her.

"Yours," he said, gesturing towards a valise next to the couch, and disappeared into his room.

Claudine had salvaged nothing from the fire. Curiously, she reached over and lifted the valise. It was heavy.

"Come," Enjolras strode out purposefully, shoving a set of keys into his coat pocket. His voice was frighteningly loud in the stillness of the house, and Claudine flinched a little. The valise tumbled out of her hand and landed on the floor. 

He stopped walking abruptly, but didn't turn around. 

"Forget it," he said, his voice more aloof than ever. "Please."

"The valise?" Claudine asked, trying to sound confused.

"No. Last night." His words were clear and impatient. It was astounding, how he managed to detach himself so cleanly from his emotions. Claudine felt a spark of irritation in her chest - was it really so hard for him to be human?

"Sure," she replied, putting as much drawl into the word as possible. If he was going to be all distant and cold, she was going to feign nonchalance. 

If it annoyed him, he didn't show it - of course he would never give her that satisfaction. He stalked out of the house. "Get your horse and follow me."

___

It was afternoon, and Claudine was gone. She'd closed the door to her new apartment, and Enjolras was left staring at it. One single thought ran through his mind. 

I haven't even said goodbye.

___

[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ]

was trying to delay the kiss but Claudine and Enjolras were like nOPE. So this chapter happened. I'm so sorry for the late update!

Love,
Nat 🍃