I couldn't answer him. I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't think I could really say anything to him. I did not want to face the facts of what had happened, or the consequences I knew were soon to follow. I just wanted to avoid it all. I wanted to deceive the passion that was burning deep inside of me, and simply forget that any of this had ever happened. I wished to pretend that I hadn't slept with Marius, and betrayed Eponine. I wished that it was Enjolras who I truly loved, and wanted to spend the rest of my life with. But I simply couldn't. You can't deceive passion. No matter how much I had wanted to. I couldn't. It was too late. _______________________________________________________ I did not create the characters or settings used within this plotline. That was Victor Hugo. I only claim to own what I have written down here.
21 parts