Life's Great Happiness (A Les Miserables FanFiction)

A Lovesick Fool and A Fearless Leader

~1 Year Later~

'That could have gone better.' Marguerite said as she and the young students entered the back room of the Musain.

'I got punched in the face by a policeman.' Courfeyrac said far too cheerfully. Combeferre gave his friend a strange look before Lesgle took a look around the room and crossed his arms.

'Where's Joly?' The unlucky man asked.

'He looked pretty distressed at the protest.' Bahorel said.

'He always looks like that.' Marguerite put in. And it was true, Joly had a way of looking permanently distressed at least %99.9 of the time.

'He's a hypochondriac,' Combeferre started. 'He probably thinks he has some deadly disease and is currently trying to scrub off his skin.'

Silence overtook the room until Grantaire clapped and stood up from the chair he had sat himself on.

'He'll be fine.' The drunk said.

No one felt like arguing with him.

'The protest went better than I thought it would.' Enjolras said as he walked over to the group. He stood next to Grantaire whose eyes had locked onto the blonde intensely.

'Dare I ask, how?' Courfeyrac teased as he rubbed his bruised cheek.

'The flame is igniting; we just need something to set it off.' Enjolras told the group.

'What, exactly, would that be?' Marguerite asked dryly.

'I'm not sure yet.'

'Well, this revolution is getting off on a great start.' Grantaire quipped before bringing a bottle of wine to his lips.

Enjolras curled his full lips at glared at the black curly haired man before shaking his head with an amazing amount of disappointment and almost disgust.

Marguerite watched as Grantaire's eyes blurred before he took another go at his wine.

Enjolras walked off, Courfeyrac and Combeferre following behind him, without looking back once. Grantaire stared after him anyway.

'It's hard to watch sometimes.' Marius said quietly.

Marguerite nodded, knowing what he was talking of.

'I wonder if Enjolras knows the pain he's causing.'

'Ah,' Marguerite held up one finger and stuck her nose in the air. 'but France is in pain, what other pain should Enjolras notice? Surely not a cynics. A pity I need to leave or I'd have a drink.'

'Marie,' Marius started, using that nickname he had called her since their second meeting. 'you drink too much.' The concern held in his voice was clear, these two young people had become close over the year since their meeting and concern was often thrown between them.

'I'd like to think I'm keeping hydrated.'

'You would.'

'Sweet Marius I'm taking my leave now, be a good boy and make sure Joly isn't throwing up in the toilet.'

'Fine. Say hello to 'Ponine for me and travel safe, don't get into too many fights with your customers. Your ribs are just starting to heal.'

The young prostitute almost wished Marius would just ignore Eponine, every hello and goodbye made it harder for the young girl to see Marius did not love her as she loved him. Eponine was in love and could see nothing else.

Marguerite waved off Marius and his concern. She walked onto the streets of Paris and her face grew cold. She walked a little differently; her eyes were more welcoming and seductive. Her ribs hurt but she was running low on money.