A Franc or Two - Les Misérables [IN EDITING]

Kiss Me in the Morning - Chapter 50

Waking up in the morning was almost unbearable.

Though, again, you and Enjolras tried to relieve some of the tension by maintaining a less serious atmosphere, it was clear that you were both shaken by the experience with Jehan.

The both of you were seated on the couch. You were resting between Enjolras's legs as he kept his arms wrapped around you, his hands resting on top of yours.

"'Taire drew that?" he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You nodded.

"Yeah... Beautiful, isn't it?" you said, leaning into him the slightest bit more. The sight you were marveling at was, of course, his pristinely-sketched image of a place you knew all too well— Le Café Musain. Though there was a man passed out in the corner, there was something so captivatingly gorgeous about the photo.

You turned the page.

The next image was one of you— it was from much longer ago, as you remembered the moment precisely, and you couldn't help but smile just a little. It was you back when you had a job at Le Café— your hands behind your back, holding the strings of your corset as you grinned.

Goodness, that man was too good for his own sake.

You were snapped back into reality when Enjolras placed a sweet kiss on your jaw, and then let go of your hand to point at the image.

"This one's my favorite," he said with a slight chuckle, resting his chin upon your shoulder.

You felt yourself smile.

"Of course it is," you chuckled. "I'm everyone's favorite."

"Seems like it," Enjolras replied, resting his hand on top of yours again. He let out a soft sigh, that sort of dreary, depressed feeling settling upon the both of you again, and he rested his face gently against your neck.

"You're so beautiful," he muttered. As if all of his energy had been sucked out of him, all he could do was let his thumb caress your arm— and you leaned into him yet again.

"You're not too bad yourself," you replied with a soft smile. You turned around in his lap, just to face him better, it hardly took you a moment to realize how distraught he was.

He thought it was his fault. After all, he was the one leading the revolution— without his talks and rallies, Jehan wouldn't have felt inspired to give his own life for the cause.

You felt yourself holding his face in your hands.

Though the bars of sunlight coming through the air lit the air perfectly, there was hardly anything pristine about the situation.

His sad eyes flicked up to you.

"Can I kiss you, 'Jolras?" you asked, combing a hand through his hair. You didn't want to ask what he was upset about— you just wanted him to feel better.

Though his lips prickled into a smile, it hurt him to do so.

"If you feel so inclined," he said, resting his hand upon your waist again.

You were quick to lock your lips with his.

His only passion seemed to reside with you. Though just moments before he wanted to die, just a kiss from you gave him a sliver of hope back— and for him, ironically, it felt as if he could breathe again. Neither one of you could muster the courage to part...

However, that changed the moment you heard a soft knock on the door.

The both of you leapt away from each other.