Those Who Fall in Love. |Enjolras|

18. Why?

Paris, France
April, 1831

"Lorraine?" Enjolras rose a confused eyebrow. He stood in the door frame, confusion etching itself onto his face. Grantaire motioned lazily for him to close the door. Enjolras quietly closed and locked the loft door, before turning his attention back towards the woman in front of him.

Lorraine buried her face in her hands, groaning and muttering every obscene word in her vocabulary. She felt her stomach churn and her body trembled. A sickening feeling buried it's way under her skin like a parasite.

Enjolras took a step forward into the room, taking a cautious step towards Lorraine.

Grantaire blocked his path, handing him the now crumpled up notepad. His gaze was turned towards the floor, but as the notepad hung in the air, he looked up at Enjolras. His sorrowful eyes that were glazed over with watery tears struck fear into Enjolras' soul.

Lorraine took a shaky breath inwards and wiped her face with her hands. She tried to distract herself from exploding again by brushing the wrinkles out of her dress skirts, but she could feel her emotions pooling in her chest.

Grantaire turned away from her in fear of seeing the look of disgust and hatred he had grown used to seeing from others. Lorraine was the one pure soul who didn't view him as worthless, but her earlier explosion had rattled him.

Enjolras' heart hammered in his chest and threatened to leap out of his mouth. He felt like his whole world was spinning, and there was no stopping it. He had tried to keep the two parts of his life separate, in order to spare Lorraine the pain she was feeling now, but he wasn't as lucky as he seemed.

"Lorraine. I'm so sorry." He said almost at an inaudible whisper. "You weren't supposed to find out. Not this way."

"And in what way was I supposed to find out? When the National Guard kills us all? When they burst in and slaughter us all like livestock?" She spat. Her watery eyes stared into  Enjolras'.

Enjolras took a step closer to her, holding his hand out, but she took a step back.

"Get out. Both of you." She whispered, before shaking her head, and pointing at them. "Actually, stay. And tell me something." Her quivering voice was laced with venom and gaining strength.

"Anything." Enjolras said quietly.

"Why?" She whipped around to look at him, and began to walk closer until she was directly in front of him.

"Why?!" She suddenly yelled, grinding her teeth together and pushing her hands against his chest. Tears welled in her eyes again, but she didn't nothing to wipe them away. Her trembling fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt momentarily. "Did you really think me that stupid or untrustworthy that you couldn't tell me?"

Enjolras couldn't bear to look at her face and said nothing. She turned towards Grantaire, her eyes searching his face for answers, but he couldn't find the words to speak.

Lorraine squeezed her eyes shut. "Please, get out."

"Lorraine..." Grantaire said dejectedly. "I'm sorry."

"Please." She said desperately, crossing her arms over her chest.

After a moment of unbearable silence, she heard them shuffle silently out of the door, leaving her alone in the loft.

Lorraine collapsed into one of the many wooden chairs. Her breath was ragged and uneven, and she covered her mouth with her hands to to keep herself from screaming. Tears cascaded like streams down her face, and and her face became blotchy and red.

The door to the loft creaked open, making her stand quickly.

"Lorraine? Are you in here?" Marceau's clam voice called. A small gasp escaped his lips when his eyes saw Lorraine, and he wasted no time enveloping her into a hug.

Lorraine's arms embraced her brother, and she laid her head on his shoulder, letting her tears dampen his shirt.

Rather than pepper her with questions, Marceau patted her back, and whispered reassurances in her ear, like he had done when they were children and she needed him.

"Are you alright?" Marceau asked gently as Lorraine pulled away.

' No,' was trying the escape from Lorraine lips, but she wouldn't let it. She couldn't let him know. One word, and they could all be killed or imprisoned. Herself probably included. As much as Lorraine loathed Enjolras, Grantaire, and all the other friends she had made, she wouldn't, no, she couldn't, let anything happen to them. And if that meant keeping a secret from her brother and pretending to be alright, than she would do it,

"I've been better." Lorraine dryly chuckled, wiping her eyes.

"That much is obvious." Marceau scoffed, awaiting a more thorough answer. "Do I need to track down those friends of yours and speak to them?"

"No!" Lorraine nearly shouted. "No, that won't be necessary."

Marceau rose and eyebrow and looked at her face, unconvinced. "If you don't want to tell me, that's alright, but your my sister. If your in trouble, let me help."

"I understand." Lorraine smiled weakly.

A/N:
Very short and not edited.

Not me waiting like four months to update. I've been struggling with how to write this chapter in a good enough way and how to set up the next chapters.

Also, I will probably be editing and fixing the years/dates at the top of the chapters.