ADIEU » LES MISÉRABLES | ✓

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

It seemed almost fitting that their last conversation would be held in the dark. Enjolras's fierce glory faded with the sun, while Claudine somehow appeared brighter at night. They met each other in the middle, and it was perfect. Sun and moon, gold and silver, in one combined.

Enjolras was so tempted to feel. So close to abandoning all semblance of logical thought, so close to kissing her. The night was cool and the wind nipped at his skin, heightening his every sensation, compelling him to give in. 

But he kept himself in check. It was painful, but he'd long since accustomed himself to it.

"We have been preparing our whole lives for this," he began.

"Fighting?" Claudine's voice was small. 

"Yes. But also death. Each and every one of the Les Amis - we are ready to give up our lives for the fatherland."

"Death," she repeated, sounding as if she was trying hard to grasp the concept. 

Enjolras let the word hang in the air for a little longer. "I understand that you may not have realized it would come to this. I apologize for not making it clear from the beginning. But it is what it is, Claudine."

"No. Do not apologize. I should have seen it coming. I attend all the meetings after all." She whipped her face upwards, and there it was, the familiar wild flash of her eyes. Her words spilled into each other, becoming an angry, jumbled mess. 

"I shouldn't have joined your society. I shouldn't have taken Combeferre's words to heart. He told me that the Les Amis could be family, and I believed him. Now I'm about to lose another family for the second time. And as for you-"

Her gaze had flitted everywhere; the sky, his cravat, the pavement, his lips. But as she said those words, she looked right into his eyes, and he was trapped once again. Immobilized, caught in the exquisite, inexplicable intimacy of the moment. 

"I shouldn't have fallen in love with you." It was nearly inaudible, but he heard it nonetheless. 

At once, something hot coursed through his veins. His breath couldn't leave his lungs, and the world dipped and soared and spun into a blur. He could feel his heartbeat in his head, pounding against his skull.

He racked his half-delirious brain for something, anything. The most reasonable excuse.

"You must be drunk," he said.

The light behind her eyes vanished. 

"Enjolras, I had one drink. One. I am perfectly sober. I mean everything I say. And even if I were drunk, it wouldn't change anything." Her gypsy accent was slipping through, and her voice became nearly unrecognizable. Enjolras closed his eyes and tried to pretend she was someone else - another woman he had to brush off, another door he had to close.

"Claudine, I can't accept that."

"You absolute fathead. Those are my feelings. It's not a gift. You can't choose to not accept it."

Enjolras swallowed, attempted to reason. "Do you understand what you just did? You're giving me something to live for. And that holds me back from giving my all to the revolution. I cannot afford to do that."

"You and your stupid little revolution," Claudine snapped. He'd never seen her this furious before. "Do you honestly think it'd work? That you and your little band of schoolboys could bring down the entire monarchy? Dying for the country might sound very grand to you, but in reality, nothing changes - nothing ever does. You become a warning to others, or at best, a distant memory. People will forget you, Enjolras. It doesn't matter."

His heart turned cold, and the world suddenly came to a standstill. The Republic, the revolution, it was his everything. He'd relinquished everything for it. And to hear someone speak of it that way-

"Did you mean that?" He asked, his voice soft. It was meant to sound dangerous, but it came out more vulnerable than anything else. 

Claudine must have sensed that. Her jaw slackened, the rage dissipating out of her. 

"Not all of it."

Enjolras stared. How was it possible to hate, admire, adore and respect a person so much at the same time?

"I'm sorry," she finally said, after the silence between them had dragged on for too long. 

Shoving aside his emotions, Enjolras returned to the speech he had hastily put together and rehearsed in his head. 

"Ultimately, the decision is still yours. You have the right to choose if you want to accompany us to the very end. You are part of us after all."

Claudine frowned. "I think I've already decided."

He waited.

"But I'm not going to tell you what it is." She looked up at him, her mouth curving into an endearing half-smile, and the tension between them eased a little. 

"Whatever it is, I trust that you have thought it through," he said, and a small flinch crossed her face. He didn't know why, but he'd noticed that she would always react to the word 'trust'. 

"I have," she assured him.

And then she barreled into him. He let out a short, breathless sound upon the impact. 

He wanted to protest, to pry her away from him, to do anything, really, but he just stood there as her arms tightened around his waist.

He could stand there forever, soaking in her embrace; her head pressed into his chest, her palms firm against his back. In her arms, everything felt like it should be. 

He tilted his head back and let bliss envelop his body.

And then he realized - he already knew what her decision was. She didn't need to tell him - Claudine always spoke through her actions. And despite the fact that it was exactly what he had hoped for, some selfish, irrational part of him still withered. 

This was final. This was the end. 

This was her adieu. 

He breathed out the hurt slowly, methodically, and looped his fingers through her hair.

___

[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ]

 there's still a few more chapters to go! I can't believe we're finally nearing the end. Hope you guys are excited, and please stay safe!

Love,
Nat 🍃