Les Miserables Imagines

Bahorel x Reader: Of Wet Jackets and Brown Shawls

You gently closed the door of your one room apartment and walked down the front steps. You opened the main door to be greeted by a familiar face. "Oh!" You exclaimed in surprise.

"Didn't scare you, did I?" Bahorel asked cheekily. You shook your head with a small smile.

"No, no," You laughed. "What are you doing here?"

"What, I can't walk a pretty girl to a café?" He offered his arm. You slipped your book under your arm and linked your other arm with his. He reached over and grabbed your book, ignoring your protests.

"Bahorel, I can carry my book myself."

"Yes, and I can carry it for you too." He cut off your protests and began walking. You made small talk until you walked through the doors of the café. You released his arm and he handed you back your book.

"Well, thank you for walking me," He nodded and smiled, and you walked off to your usual seat. You went to pull out a chair, but were stopped by another pair of hands. You looked up as Bahorel pulled your seat out for you. You raised an eyebrow. He shrugged and motioned for you to sit. You slowly sat down as he pushed in the chair. "...Thanks." You said.

"Don't mention it," He smiled, before walking off to meet his other friends. That was...odd. Sure, you and Bahorel knew each other, but you had only spoken a handful of times. He had been acting like this for a few days now, and you couldn't find a single reason as to why. You shrugged and opened your book. You only made it a few pages before you heard someone sit down. You looked up as Bahorel pushed a plate with a roll and a cup of water over. "You haven't eaten today, right?" You closed your book and looked at him.

"Okay, spill it." He looked at you. "It's been a few days. Why are you being so nice to me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You and I almost never talk, and now all of a sudden you talk to me a billion times in two days! So what is it? Did your friends put you up to it? A bet, perhaps?" He looked shocked.

"How could you think that?" He asked quietly. You shrugged.

"How many people do you see going out of their way to talk to me?"

"Are you serious? Y/N, everyone here talks to you!" You shrugged again.

"Yeah, but not you." He watched you as you continued. "Why the habit change?"

"You want the truth?"

"Preferably." He sighed.

"I talk to you because...well, because I like you. And I wanted to get to know you better," He looked away. You felt heat rise to your cheeks.

"Well...what do you want to know?" He looked up at you, before a genuine smile spread across his features. You returned his smile as you slid your book out of the way.

"Everything." You laughed.

"Well, everything is a lot for one day, so how about we start with the basics?"

"That sounds great." You talked for hours, about anything and everything. Your favourite colour, your favourite book, where you were born, everything. You didn't notice the sun had set until the café owner told you he was locking up. You reluctantly gathered your things as you both made your way to the front door. "Can I walk you home?" You nodded, and like the morning had begun, he took your book, slipped it under his arms, and grabbed your hand with the other. You continued to talk on your way home, and you made it half-way before it began to rain. Hard. You let out a shriek of surprise as you were hit by the cold water. Bahorel immediately handed you your book and shrugged out of his coat. He held it over the two of you like an umbrella as you ran back to your home. Your sides were stinging from laughter by the time you got home. You opened your front door and you both stepped inside. You were both dry for the most part, but Bahorel's jacket was soaked. "...Can we meet again tomorrow?" You nodded with a grin, and he smiled in relief. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow." He turned to go, but you grabbed his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Your jacket's soaked. Wait here!" You told him and ran up to you room. You came down a few minutes later, holding a dark brown shawl. "Use this." You took his jacket and shoved the shawl into his hands. "I'll dry this and we can trade tomorrow. He nodded dumbly, and you smiled again. You heard a clap of thunder.

"I should probably go, before it gets worse." You nodded. "Goodnight, Y/N." Before you stopped yourself, you leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"Night, Bahorel!" You scurried up the stairs and into your apartment before you could see his reaction.

But you looked out your window just in time to see him thrust his fist in the air, let out a loud whoop, and run off into the night, holding your shawl over his head.