When Tomorrow Comes {Les Misérables}

Chapter Four

"Great," Grantaire cheered as he wrapped his arm around Andra's shoulders and hugged her close to him. "And you can thank me."

"I'm not going to thank you," Andra pushed him away, which Enjolras was pleased with. He would never admit it, but he didn't like watching Grantaire touch Andra.

"Why not?" Grantaire asked her, pouting.

"Cause you dragged me down an alley," Andra crossed her arms.

"Don't worry. We'll be great friends soon," Grantaire smiled at her before walking over to the large table and grabbing a glass along with some wine, filling it and gulping down the drink.

"I wouldn't mind getting to know her," a man smiled as he left the table and walked over to Andra. "I'm Courfeyac," the man reintroduced himself. He put his hand out for Andraste to shake. Andra hesitated but shook his hand.

"I'm Marius," a good looking man popped out from behind Courfeyac. Marius smiled at Andra the way a friend would. Andra shook his hand without hesitation, seeing that he was a kind man.

"Okay, Okay," Enjolras stopped all the men who wanted to come up and introduce themselves to Andra. "That's enough. We don't need to overwhelm the girl."

"He just doesn't want one of us to steal her away from him," Grantaire mumbled to Courfeyac, although neither Enjolras or Andra heard them.

"You really think Enjolras cares for something other than the revolution?" Courfeyac asked Grantaire.

"Didn't you see the way they were staring at each other?" Grantaire asked. Courfeyac just scoffed, turning his attention back to Enjolras.

"Do you need a place to stay?" Enjolras asked Andra, turning to look at her. He asked quietly, but everyone in the room could still hear.

"No, Merci," Andra told him. "I live at the Paris Opera House."

"You are Andra Dubois?" One of the men who hadn't been able to introduce himself asked.

Andra nodded her head.

Small gasps of surprise echoed through the room. This young girl was an opera singer turned revolutionary.

"I must be getting back. We have an early rehearsal in the morning for our performance in a couple of days," Andra told them. When is your next meeting?"

"Tomorrow night," Grantaire told her. "So are you in?"

"I will try to attend the meeting and then I shall decide," she smiled at them. Andra wanted to make sure this was real. She wanted to help the revolution, but these were a bunch of boys. Was this what the revolution was? Boys who grew up too soon? "Thank you for this strange yet wonderful introduction." Andra then nodded a farewell to them and turned to exit the room.

She made it out the door of the café when she was join by the blonde that looked like Apollo.

"Allow me to walk you home," Enjolras spoke.

"That is not necessary," Andra shook her head, crossing the street back towards the alley way which would be a short cut home.

"It is dangerous for a beautiful woman such as yourself to walk home alone at night," Enjolras told her, following at her side. Andra felt heat creeping up to her cheeks as she blushed. She was suddenly glad that the darkness of night had fallen and Enjolras could not see her face.

Andra knew, of course, the Enjolras was just being a gentleman. The words he spoke meant nothing but the fact that he was a kind man that complimented a woman. But that did, in fact, mean he thought she was beautiful.

Andra's mother had been a pretty woman, hidden beneath dirt and scrappy clothing. But that's what made her good at her job.

"How do I know that this is real?" Andra asked Enjolras. He looked over at her. "You are a group of men and you tell me you represent a revolution."

"Yes, we do," he smiled at the way Andra had worded that. "I guess that is precisely what should convince you that this is real." Enjolras stopped Andra in the middle of the alley and held onto her arms, staring taught into her eyes. "Andraste..." Andra liked the way he said her name. "If you want to join us, then I must stress the constant danger that will follow."

"Do you think a woman can do it?" Andra asked him, skeptical. Andra wanted to know that she would be taken seriously. "If I asked, would you hand me a gun?"

"Yes," Enjolras told her, letting go of her arms. "So long as I can trust you."

"Grantaire is the one that found me," she laughed, continuing to walk. Enjolras liked her laugh. "If anything I need to trust you."

"Then I suppose that is our first mission," Enjolras smiled. "To trust each other."

A comfortable silence passed between them as they exited the alley. The silence was mostly due to the fact that they weren't sure who was on the other side of the alley and wanted to be quiet incase it was a threat. Once they exited the alley and were walking down the street to the Opera House, Andra began talking again.

"Maybe trust could start with calling me Andra instead of Andraste," Andra told him. He looked at her, curious.

"What's the meaning behind your name?" Enjolras asked. Andra took in a sharp breath.

"A story for another time," Andra told him. Enjolras believed that trusting each other means telling each other things, but he knew by the chance in her demeanor that he should not push the subject.

"How did a brave woman like you come to be an Opera Singer?" Enjolras asked. Andra took in another breath and let out a small laugh, which told Enjolras she didn't want to tell that story either.

"This trust thing is proving to be harder than I thought it'd be," she laughed. Enjolras smiled, knowing that if it was the other way around he would feel the same way.

"I suppose that is also for a different time," she told him as they came upon the Opera House.

"I suppose," Enjolras spoke in disappointment.

Once they were standing in front of the large doors, Andra turned to Enjolras with a smile.

"Thank you for walking me back," Andra spoke. Enjolras nodded and took Andra's right hand, laying a kiss on the top of it.

"I shall see you tomorrow," Enjolras smiled, excited for the next day. Andra nodded, walking up to the doors of the Opera House. She opened one of the doors, looking back to see Enjolras make sure she got in safely.

In that moment, she saw her life split in two. The Opera House and singing, or Enjolras and the revolution.

Andra walked inside, closing the door behind her.