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usergrantaire · 6 years

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Intertwined: Chapter XIX

A/N: i’ve been motivated to update, thank you @thequirksofbeingafangirl for one of the sweetest asks i’ve ever woken up to that motivated me to do so

READ IT HERE ON AO3

previous chapter: xxx

Éponine stood in front of the school building, gazing up at the tall brick walls as she pressed a hand against her bump. It was the last day of school before the students were let out on summer vacation and there was a somewhat bittersweet air about the day—Éponine wouldn’t be seeing her students for two and a half months, and this was to be her last day of teaching before she became a full-time mother in addition to an art teacher. When she came back in the autumn, she would have a baby on her hip and far more sleep deprivation than she had ever had in her life. She had decided to not go on maternity leave after all, figuring that since it was the last day, she should just suck it up and go in for work to bid her beloved students goodbye before school let out for the summer.

She walked into the school building with her new leather jacket from Bahorel in her arms, having carried it in her arms for the past hour due to how hot it was outside. Summer still had yet to officially arrive, but with the increasing heat, it might as well have, and Éponine was glad to finally be in the air-conditioned school building as she made her way to Javert’s office to talk to him for a bit before her first class started in twenty minutes. She could sense a few students eyeing her bump as she walked past them in the hallway, but she ignored the stares, having gotten used to them a few months ago. Holding her head high, she pulled her jacket on and marched towards the principal’s office.

After greeting the secretary and wishing her a happy summer, Éponine walked right past her desk to knock on Javert’s door, rocking back and forth on her feet as she patiently waited for him to call out, “Come in,” a hand resting against her bump as Peanut gave a dull kick. As expected, Javert soon called out for her to come inside his office and she wasted no time in entering, sitting down in the chair before his desk.

“Oh, Éponine.” Javert placed his hands on top of the table as his eyes trailed down to her prominent bump. It had been a little over five months since she informed him of her pregnancy and her pregnancy was glaringly obvious at this point due to it being only a little over a month before her due date. “How have you been?”

“Kind of tired,” Éponine admitted. “I just really want this baby out at this point. I’m not due for a little over another month though, so I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and deal with this pregnancy shit for another month.” She rubbed her stomach, glancing down at it and laughing to herself at the feeling of another kick. “You’ll be at my baby shower, right? I’ve given Jehan’s apartment’s address to Mr. Fauchelevent and I know you’ll be arriving with him.”

“I’ll be there,” Javert assured her, the typically hard look on his face softening just slightly. “Are you going to need to take the first couple of weeks of school off next semester? We can find a substitute for you.”

“Probably just a couple of weeks,” Éponine told him, laughing. “Maybe more if ’Jolras gets all overprotective like he tends to do. Don’t worry, sir, I won’t miss more than a month.”

“You’ll still have a job waiting for you when you come back,” Javert informed her in reassurance. “It’s rare that we get a teacher like you. Those students really love you.”

“I like to think they do,” Éponine joked, laughing once again. Pushing her chair back to get to her feet with some difficulty due to the weight of her bump, she told him, “Well, I should probably get ready. My first class for the last day of school, you know? I’ll see you at my baby shower, sir.”

“I’ve told you, just call me Philippe,” Javert reminded her once she reached the door.

Looking back, Éponine gave him a funny look and snorted. “Yeah, I’m not going to do that.”

Éponine leaned against her desk and toyed with her locket as she watched her junior class milling about, chattering animatedly amongst themselves about their plans for the summer and wishing Sonia good luck with her baby. Éponine smiled just watching them—they all seemed to be so supportive of the pregnant girl and so excited for their last summer before senior year, and Éponine didn’t fail to note how Maddy had an arm around Sebastian as they chatted with Matthew Bonnet. She rubbed her own swollen belly as she patiently waited for them to get into their seats and await her instructions for their last class of the day—and the semester. After some time, they were all seated at their tables, and Éponine made her way to the centre of the front of the room, clapping her hands together.

“Here it is, folks, last class of the semester!” she called out, grinning when she was met by cheers and whoops from the juniors. Once they had quieted down, Éponine added, “And the last class I’ll be teaching before I have a fucking baby on my hip, so cheers to that!”

Their cheers were replaced by laughter, Sebastian’s cackles in particular ringing out through the art studio. Éponine laughed at the sight of them all and glanced down, thinking about how big she had gotten and wondering what parenthood had in store for her. After the students all settled down once more, Éponine asked, “What do you guys want to do for class today?”

“Sleep!” Matthew called out from the back of the room.

Éponine scrunched up her face. “That’s the one thing we’re not going to do in class today,” she told him firmly.

After a few moments of contemplation as she paced back and forth, she finally decided out loud, “You know what? It’s the last day of school. I’ll let you guys do your own thing today, be it chatting, making art, or typing up some… questionable things. No sleeping, though,” she added when Matthew perked up, laughing when he groaned dramatically and buried his face in his table. “It’s your last class of the school year! Have fun! Kick back! But don’t watch porn,” she added quickly when Sebastian began to wiggle his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. “I’d rather not get fired on the last day of school.”

Maddy laughed out loud, replying, “You can count on us, Miss T.”

Éponine grinned at her, noticing how she had switched seats to sit next to Sebastian. “I’ll see you guys in my class next year, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Sebastian hooted, nodding vigorously.

Éponine smiled and felt herself beginning to tear up at the thought of seeing them as seniors next semester, teaching them for one last year before they graduated and went out to meet the world. She reached up to wipe away her tears with the sleeve of her jacket as many of the students got out of their seats to walk around the classroom to chat to each other. Thinking that her work for now was done, she went back to sit down at her desk at the front of the room before she was approached by Sebastian.

Éponine looked up and sighed. “What is it, Sebastian?”

“Just wanted to talk to my favourite teacher and wish her good luck in her parenting endeavours,” Sebastian replied smoothly, a grin on his face. “Will you bring your baby into class when you come back to teach us next semester?”

“I don’t think I’d be able to do that,” Éponine told him, grimacing at the thought of bringing such a tiny baby into a classroom full of rowdy seniors. “I’ll show you guys pictures of them, though.”

“Do you know if they’re a boy or a girl?” Sebastian questioned. “Sonia’s having a boy.”

“No, I want it to be a surprise,” Éponine told him, her grimace slowly morphing into a dimpled grin. “So when the doctor says ‘It’s a boy!’ or ‘It’s a girl!’ it’ll be an actual surprise and I can cry more about it. Enjolras and I’ve decided on two names already, though.”

“If your baby’s a boy, are you naming them after me?” Sebastian enquired, quirking an eyebrow and grinning even wider.

Éponine rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Why the hell would I do that?” she joked, laughing when Sebastian cackled at her words. “No, we’ve decided on Victoire Gabrielle for a girl and Alexandre Hugo for a boy.”

“Nice names,” Sebastian commented, still with that grin on his face. “I forget your boyfriend has an actual name sometimes.”

Éponine furrowed her brow, a perplexed look on her face. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve just always referred to him as ‘Miss T’s hot boyfriend’, that’s all,” Sebastian explained, sniggering when Éponine gave him a look. “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing these pictures of your baby when we come back next semester.”

“I might be missing the first couple of weeks of school, though,” Éponine told him. “Maybe three weeks or more than that. I won’t be gone for more than a month, though, don’t worry.”

“Well, good luck with your baby,” Sebastian told her, actually sincere for once as he winked. “I’ll still be here next semester for you to yell at, don’t worry!”

Éponine laughed and rolled her eyes when Sebastian made his way back to his table to slide into the seat beside Maddy and immediately begin to converse with her, Matthew, Désirée, and Sonia. Éponine chuckled to herself and took the Moleskine sketchbook Grantaire had given her out of her bag, beginning to flip through it and losing herself in the artwork, zoning out and zoning in on the elaborate watercolours Grantaire had done for her birthday as she lost track of everything else, inspecting the intricate artwork in fascination and awe.

When the class approached its end, everyone sat back at their tables as Éponine stood up once again, walking to the centre of the front of the room and twisting a lock of hair around her finger absent-mindedly as the students all settled down, awaiting her next words. After letting out an exhausted yawn, Éponine worked up the energy to shout out, “This is it, folks, five minutes until you’re officially on summer vacation! Can I get a hell yeah?!”

“Hell yeah!” many of the students yelled in response, some going so far as to pump their fists into the air.

Éponine began to tear up at how enthusiastic they all were and recalled her own high school days, remembering how she and Grantaire had been counting down the seconds until the bell rang every last day of school. This time, though, she didn’t attempt to hide her tears, laughing and letting a tear slide down her cheek as she gazed at her students, a bittersweet feeling beginning to overtake her. “Next year you’ll be seniors,” she said, letting out a watery laugh. “Before you know it, you’ll be graduating and going out into the real world. I’m really going to miss you guys.”

“We’re going to miss you too, Miss T,” Désirée called out, smiling at her.

“Thanks, Désirée,” Éponine replied, a grateful, tearful smile on her face. “Fuck, these pregnancy hormones are really getting to me. Forgive me for being a blubbering mess.” The corners of her mouth ticked up at the laughter that ensued and she continued, “It feels weird, you know? When I come back to teach you guys next semester, I’ll be a mom to an actual baby, a tiny little human, and it’s just—” She let out a surprised laugh at the feeling of a kick from Peanut. “It feels so surreal. You guys have been so supportive and so great and I’m really looking forward to seeing you again next semester.” She stole a glance at the clock and saw that it was less than a minute before the bell would ring, and so she called out, “Happy summer, everyone!”

As if on cue, the bell rang and the students were out of their seats in an instant, pouring out of the classroom and into the hallway to celebrate the beginning of summer. Éponine leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms across her chest, able to hear their whoops and cheers of celebration from the classroom, not noticing how Sonia had remained in her seat. After some time, she noticed the girl sitting there and beckoned her over.

“What’s up, Sonia?” Éponine asked as the girl got out of her seat and walked over to Éponine. The student was a good four inches taller than Éponine and she tried not to let that get to her, instead looking at Sonia’s bump. “You excited?”

“More like terrified,” Sonia replied truthfully, giving a sheepish smile as she fluffed her curls. “How do you do this parenthood thing?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Éponine confessed, rubbing her own bump and feeling another kick from Peanut. “This is the first time I’m doing this kind of thing as well. Sebastian told me you’re having a boy, by the way.”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun picking out a name,” Sonia told Éponine happily, looking down at her bump. “Seb and Mads helped me. So did Desi. I think that was my favourite bit, picking out the name.”

“Sure beats all the nausea and fatigue,” Éponine joked, absently toying about with her little heart-shaped locket and occasionally stealing glances at it. “What name did you choose?”

“Jacob Anthony Abel,” Sonia told her, bouncing on her feet in excitement. “I can’t wait for him to get here.”

“I can’t wait for my Peanut to get here, either.” Éponine looked down at her massive bump, rubbing it tenderly and evoking a few more kicks from Peanut. “I’m really just sick of pregnancy at this point, to be honest. I want this baby out, but I still have a little over a month to go before my goddamn due date.” Looking back up at Sonia, Éponine asked, “When are you due?”

“The twenty-eighth of July,” Sonia told her. “Are you having a boy or a girl, Miss T?”

“I decided to keep it a surprise,” Éponine said, shrugging her shoulders. “I think it would be more fun that way. Enjolras—my boyfriend, you remember him?”

“Yeah, Seb and Maddy won’t shut up about him,” Sonia responded, laughing.

“He and I’ve decided on two different names,” Éponine told Sonia. “Victoire Gabrielle for a girl and Alexandre Hugo for a boy. We’ll just have to wait and see which one it’ll be.” Looking down at her bump for a few moments before meeting Sonia’s green eyes again, Éponine told the girl sincerely, “Good luck with Jacob, Sonia. I know you’ll be a great mom. And just know that you don’t have to give up on any plans to go to college; you have a support system and I’m sure they’d be more than happy to help you with your baby.”

“I really do want to go to college, Miss T,” Sonia admitted. “I’m just not sure if I can, what with Jacob.”

“Sure you can,” Éponine assured her. “Like I said, you have a support system. I’m sure Désirée’s parents would be more than happy to help take care of your baby while you and Désirée are at classes.”

“Yeah, I guess they would be,” Sonia said, a little smile on her face. “I’ll seriously think about applying for college, then. I really want to become a journalist.”

“There’s no reason for you to give up on those dreams,” Éponine told her, an encouraging, dimpled smile gracing her lips as she looked at Sonia. “Have a great summer, okay? Good luck.”

“Good luck to you too, Miss T.” Sonia slung her backpack over her shoulder and began to walk back towards the door before stopping just as she was about to exit the room, looking back. “Oh, by the way, I thought you might be interested in knowing what happened two days ago.”

“What happened?” Éponine asked, perking up.

Sonia grinned, bringing out the colour in her emerald eyes. “Sebastian and Maddy got caught making out under the bleachers.”

Cosette was absolutely infatuated with this baby shower, forcing Éponine to just sit down and relax on the sofa despite the brunette’s protests as she flew about Jehan’s loft, adding finishing touches to the decorations she had managed to string up around the apartment with only an alarmingly large stepladder and Feuilly’s assistance—and Marius’ occasional help—in under two hours. It was still nine in the morning, two hours before the baby shower would actually start, and many of the Amis haven’t actually arrived, the only people in Jehan’s loft being Éponine, Enjolras, Cosette, Marius, Feuilly, and Jehan himself. The entire loft was absolutely covered in soft pastel colours, Cosette having gone all out in the planning of the baby shower, with a long snack table lined up underneath a few windows and a table reserved specifically for gifts near the front door.

Éponine was dressed in a simple long-sleeved, crimson knee-length floral-patterned sundress Cosette had bought for her and insisted that she wear and a pair of worn-out black Converse sneakers, her locket resting against her chest. She had been coddled all morning by Cosette and Jehan, and quite frankly, she was growing sick of just sitting there and watching everyone else do all the work. She wanted to contribute, damn it, she wanted to feel like she had helped make this all come together.

“Can I get up now?” Éponine whined petulantly from her place on the sofa, pouting as Cosette turned her head at the sound of her voice.

“No! We’re almost done, it’s fine!” Cosette called back, teetering dangerously at the top of the stepladder as she attempted to string up the last of the fairy lights, Jehan and Marius attempting to keep the stepladder steady at the foot of it. Éponine groaned and buried her face in her hands, not noticing how Enjolras went to sit down next to her until she felt his arm hesitantly slide around her. Almost immediately, she leaned into him, a childish pout on her face.

“Why won’t they let me help out?” she whined, turning her head to look up into Enjolras’ blue eyes after looking up and down at his outfit—he was wearing a plaid button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top three buttons undone (probably not on purpose, knowing Enjolras—he often legitimately forgot to do up the top three buttons), red Converse sneakers to match her black, and blue jeans. She decided she liked his attire, only wishing she could be wearing something similar although she liked her dress just fine.

“I’m sure they’re just concerned about you overexerting yourself with your condition, ’Ponine,” Enjolras told her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Éponine rolled her eyes, remembering how he had said something along those lines all those months ago during Christmas. “I’m fine, Enjolras. I’ve been taking my meds and I’ve been seeing Dr. Bourrienne every two and a half weeks. I’m fine.”

“You better be,” Enjolras said half-jokingly as Éponine laid her head on his shoulder. “I just got off the phone with my parents,” he told her quietly, rubbing up and down her arm. “They’re really excited to meet you, Éponine.”

“Despite the fact that I’ve got Thénardier blood running through my veins?” Éponine quipped, looking up and mustering a smile. His parents were driving in from upstate just for her baby shower; she hoped it would be worth it.

“You’re nothing like your parents,” Enjolras reassured her. “My parents know that.”

“Sure hope they do.” Éponine reached over to grab her mug of tea off the coffee table and bring it to her mouth, gulping the rest of it down. “Are you sure they’ll like me?”

“I’m positive, ’Ponine,” Enjolras affirmed, kissing her forehead once again. “They’ll love you.”

Éponine smiled and placed her empty mug back on the coffee table, looking around to see if anyone was watching and leaning in for a kiss when she saw that nobody was. Enjolras couldn’t help but smile the moment he felt her lips brush his, kissing her back and bringing his hand up to cup her face before they broke apart, just gazing into each other’s eyes with tiny smiles on their faces. Éponine broke eye contact to glance down at her bump, thinking about how they would have Peanut with them in less than a month and realising that holy shit, she was becoming a mother in less than a month.

“We’re going to be parents, ’Jolras,” she murmured, only now beginning to fully come to terms with that. “We’re going to be parents in less than a fucking month.” Her breathing grew erratic just from thinking about it. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”

“Éponine, breathe.” Enjolras rubbed circles into her back as she slowly calmed down, taking in deep breaths before loudly exhaling, rubbing her bump out of sheer nerves. “I know it’s a lot, but I promise you, we’ll do this parenting thing together.” The corners of his mouth quirked up in the smallest of smiles as he said lightly, “It’s you and me forever now.”

“I don’t think I mind that,” Éponine murmured, lips slowly curving into a smile as she leaned in for a kiss, bringing her hands up to cradle his face and, for once, ignoring the possibility of the others seeing them in such a way, sighing and deepening the kiss when Enjolras readily kissed her back, his arms snaking around her waist and pulling her close to him, her bump between them. After several blissful moments, they broke apart, their faces mere inches from each other and a giddy smile on Éponine’s face.

“I see you’re wearing the locket I gave you,” Enjolras murmured, looking down at the silver against the dark fabric with a contented little smile on his face.

“Why wouldn’t I?” One of Éponine’s hands went to gently grasp the little silver heart as she gazed down at it, opening it to look at the tiny photograph and the words inscribed inside. “It’s just so beautiful, Enjolras. Thank you. Are you sure you’re not starting to regret being stuck with me for the rest of our lives?”

Enjolras smiled and kissed her forehead. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Éponine felt her cheeks turn pink and looked down at the photograph again, recalling how she had coaxed him into taking the picture with her. “Remember when we took this?” she asked quietly, a smile playing at her lips at the thought. “I told you your future children would appreciate having photos of you smiling.” She looked down at her bump, laughing. “Now here we are.”

Enjolras bit back a laugh and stood up instead, holding his hand out to her. “Want to get a drink?” he asked as she took his hand with a playfully questioning look on her face.

Éponine let him pull her to her feet, wiggling her toes in her loose Converse sneakers. “Lead the way.”

As Éponine and Enjolras made their way to the kitchen to grab some iced tea, Éponine couldn’t help but marvel at how Cosette and Feuilly had managed to decorate the entire massive loft with minimal help in the span of two hours for the baby shower. The decorations were nothing elaborate; on the contrary, it was pretty simplistic, soft pastel colours against the red brick walls, and Éponine absolutely loved it that way. Everything that had to do with the baby shower was in some pastel colour, Cosette having gone for a pastel theme; after grabbing a glass of iced tea, Éponine walked over to the lengthy snack table and looked at the numerous cupcakes tastefully arranged, all with frosting in pale pastel colours. Cosette seemed quite pleased with herself at how she had turned Jehan’s loft into the perfect setting for a baby shower, going over to put an arm around Éponine as they looked around at the decorations together.

“Do you like it, Eppy?” Cosette asked softly, lightly kissing Éponine’s cheek.

Éponine grinned. “I love it, Cosette. Thank you so much.”

A little over an hour later around ten fifteen, the guests began to arrive, Jehan’s loft steadily growing more crowded with each guest that arrived. Éponine and Enjolras hadn’t invited many people—just the Amis, Grantaire’s sister Rachelle, Toby the Yorkie, Javert, Mr. Fauchelevent, Enjolras’ parents, and a few other people they knew from their workplaces. Éponine watched as the presents on the gift table piled high, wondering what could possibly be in each one as almost all the guests filled the room, leaving only Enjolras’ parents who still had yet to arrive. As Éponine looked around at the room, watching the guests all chatting over their drinks and observing how Feuilly was taking pictures with her Polaroid camera, she went over to Enjolras, biting her lip.

“Are your parents going to make it?” she asked, trying not to let her anxiety show through, although traces of her apprehension crept into her dark eyes. Enjolras took her hand and squeezed it in reassurance.

“My mother just texted me,” Enjolras told her quietly. “They got caught in some traffic on the way here, but they’re getting close. Don’t worry, ’Ponine, they’ll be here soon.”

Éponine wasn’t sure if she should be worrying or not, still insanely nervous about meeting Enjolras’ parents. What if they ended up hating her after all? What if they thought she wasn’t good enough for their son? What if, what if, what if?

Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest when she heard the sound of the doorbell fifteen minutes later. Surely it had to be Enjolras’ parents this time; all the other guests were already milling about in the loft, not seeming to have heard the doorbell and continuing to chat over red Solo cups full of punch that Éponine had made sure wasn’t spiked. She looked up at Enjolras, whose blue eyes lit up as he started walking towards the door, and Éponine had no choice but to follow him, bracing herself for what was to come.

She gripped Enjolras’ hand like a lifeline when he opened the door to find his parents standing there, quite a few presents in his father’s arms and a massive smile on his mother’s face. Reluctantly, Éponine let go of Enjolras’ hand so he could embrace his mother, a close-lipped smile on his face as he pulled back to look at his parents.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” he told them with a smile, eyeing the presents in his father’s arms rather warily, wondering why on earth his parents felt so compelled to bring so many gifts. Putting an arm around Éponine, he pulled her close to her side as she plastered a smile on her face, telling his parents with pride creeping into his tone, “Mother, Father, I want you to meet Éponine.”

“That’s me,” Éponine added without thinking, managing a smile as she screamed internally at herself for acting like a fucking moron. She knew all about how first impressions mattered and she did not want to make a terrible first impression, especially with her boyfriend’s parents, no less.

Enjolras’ mother smiled at her and pulled her into an unexpected embrace, telling her, “It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Éponine! We’ve heard so much about you.” She pulled back and gave Éponine a smile, her eyes trailing down to the curve of Éponine’s stomach, and Éponine could immediately see that Enjolras had inherited his smile from his mother and instinctively pressed a hand against her abdomen, somewhat insecure about how big she was at this point.

Éponine’s eyes widened in astonishment at the older woman’s words. “You—you have?”

“Yes, our Gabriel is very fond of you,” Enjolras’ mother told her, giving her son a knowing smile as Éponine glanced up at him with an incredulous look on her face, seeing how his cheeks reddened. “By all means, it’s nice to finally meet the mother of our first grandchild. Call me Angela.”

“O-okay.” Éponine was somewhat thrown off by how kind Enjolras’ mother was, having expected an uptight woman to turn her nose up at the sight of her. “It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am. I mean, Angela.” It was weird to be on a first-name basis with her boyfriend’s parents, but Éponine was willing to attempt to get used to it.

Her eyes trailed to the presents in Enjolras’ father’s arms, trying not to look too shocked at the amount of gifts Enjolras’ parents had brought for them. Enjolras’ father cleared his throat and told her affably, “It’s nice to meet you, Éponine. Like Angela said, we’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Antoine.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Éponine caught her little slip and immediately corrected herself. “Antoine.”

Angela looked around at the room, perking up at the sight of the gift table. “Is that where we should leave the presents we brought?” she asked.

Enjolras nodded. “Yes, just leave them there.”

When his parents went off, Éponine exhaled, feeling all the tension leave her body as she turned to look up at Enjolras with a smirk on her face. “So they’ve heard a lot about me.” She poked him in the chest, a laugh escaping her lips. “I thought you only mentioned me to them last week in a phone call.”

“I may have mentioned you a few times over the past couple of years,” Enjolras muttered in slight embarrassment, feeling his cheeks flame red at Éponine’s playful stare. After some time, he relented, admitting, “Okay, it was more than a few times, but I couldn’t help myself. You make me happy, ’Ponine. There’s no reason my parents shouldn’t know that. Besides, I’ve established that I’ve had feelings for you for years. Is this really anything new?”

Now it was Éponine’s turn to blush. In her loss for words, she lightly smacked him in the arm to make up for her speechlessness. “Stop, you’re being a sap,” she hissed, although she couldn’t restrain the good-natured grin playing at her lips. Enjolras smiled down at her and leaned in, managing to sneak in a quick kiss before Cosette called for everyone to gather at the centre of the enormous room.

The next hour was a bit of a blur for Éponine—Cosette was a perfect hostess, leading the guests in light-hearted games and just being the ray of sunshine that she was. At some point when the guests were all placing bets on whether the baby would be a boy or a girl, Éponine noticed the buttons Cosette had pinned onto Azelma’s and Gavroche’s shirts—Azelma had received an “aunt-to-be” button while Gavroche had presumably been talked into wearing an “uncle-to-be” button and Éponine couldn’t help but laugh and force them into taking a picture with her, having Feuilly take the picture for them. She hadn’t failed to pick up on the fact that Azelma and Courfeyrac were still ignoring each other, but some time ago, she had resolved not to meddle anymore, so she was just going to leave them alone to sort out their bullshit.

At around fifteen minutes to twelve as everyone else around them ate the lunches Cosette had provided, Éponine found herself having a heart-to-heart with Angela on the sofa, much to her own surprise. She could see that Enjolras had inherited his blue eyes as well as his smile from his mother, though her blonde hair was more yellow than golden like her son’s. Éponine was just glad to have a chance to get to know the grandmother of her child.

“You’ve really raised him well,” Éponine told Angela, glancing over at Enjolras, who was conversing with his father and Combeferre. “I’ve never met a man as kind as he is. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Éponine,” Angela replied gently, a smile on her face. “He’s never been this happy before. You’re a good influence on him. I guess I never really expected to see him in an actual relationship, you know?” She let out a pretty laugh, going on, “Back when he first moved to the city for college, he told me about how he had a crush on Feuilly over there.” Éponine glanced over to where Angela was pointing, seeing Feuilly chatting with Jehan and Musichetta. “It was adorable to hear the way he talked about Feuilly, but that only lasted, what, one, two years? And then he fell for you, and now look at where we are.” Angela gestured towards Éponine’s bump, laughing when the young woman blushed scarlet. “You’re good for each other, Éponine. It’s obvious that you make him happy, and that’s all I want—for my son to be happy.”

“Thank you, Angela.” Éponine looked down at her bump and smiled to herself, rubbing her bump and jumping slightly at the feeling of an unexpected kick from Peanut. They had been subdued for the past forty-five minutes or so and she hadn’t been expecting movement for another hour at least, having been somewhat keeping track of Peanut’s movements. “Oh, shit,” she squeaked out, bringing a hand to cover her mouth at her slip of the tongue.

“What is it?” Angela asked, concern beginning to fill her blue eyes.

“It’s nothing,” Éponine reassured her. “The baby just kicked.”

Angela’s eyes lit up and she scooted closer to Éponine, asking tentatively, “Can I feel it?”

“Be my guest.” Éponine felt Angela place a hand on top of her bump, watching the older woman’s face for that expression people always got whenever they felt Peanut kicking, and sure enough, soon Angela’s entire face lit up at the feeling of her grandchild kicking for her, blue eyes filling up with tears. Éponine tried not to let her concern for the older woman show, wondering if this was how grandparents-to-be typically reacted when feeling their grandchild kick. She assumed it was.

After some time, Éponine found herself being whisked to the centre of the loft by Cosette, who declared it was time to open the presents everyone had brought. Bahorel, Feuilly, Grantaire, Marius, and Enjolras were tasked with carrying the entire fucking gift table to where Cosette had placed Éponine in a plush little armchair at the centre of the loft, surrounded by the guests. They could have just carried the presents over, but no, they had to bring the actual table along. After making a slight face at it, Éponine decided that in the end, it didn’t matter—she wasn’t the one carrying the table and she got to sit in a sweet, bouncy little armchair.

Éponine felt weird with all the attention being on her as she took the first present off the pile, tearing off the wrapping paper to reveal an adorable little unicorn plushie, and so it began.

Getting through all the presents took much longer than Éponine expected, a pile of torn wrapping paper steadily beginning to pile up next to the armchair she was seated in. To her chagrin, she found herself tearing up more than once at the various presents, letting herself cry freely upon receiving a gorgeous foil-stamped book to document Peanut’s milestones in from Musichetta and an enormous photo album filled with pictures of her, Azelma, and Gavroche from the past several years with the latter half of the album empty to make way for future family photographs from her siblings. Jehan had bought Peanut several copies of BabyLit books in complete earnest, much to Éponine’s amusement, and she nearly gasped out loud when she found Grantaire had bought her gift certificates for a newborn photoshoot. Éponine was still surprised at the giant presents she received—an infant car seat from Joly, a baby bean bag from Javert, and a stroller from Mr. Fauchelevent. She was astounded at the sheer amount of onesies and diapers she received from the guests but throughout it all, she reminded herself that the more presents she received, the less she and Enjolras would have to actually buy. She was slightly confused when she received two near-identical monogrammed blankies from Combeferre, both of them impossibly soft and in a deep crimson hue with small black embroidery at the bottom right corner of each blanket which, upon inspection, were the names Éponine and Enjolras had picked out for Peanut—Victoire embroidered on one blanket, Alexandre on the other.

“’Ferre, you do realise we’re going to end up not using one of these, right?” Éponine reminded him, biting her lip. The little blankets seemed pricey and she didn’t want anyone to spend more money than they needed to on her baby.

Combeferre shrugged, giving her a little smile. “It doesn’t matter. I thought it would be cute for Peanut. I don’t mind spending a little extra money.”

Éponine felt tears pooling in her eyes once again and silently berated herself for being so goddamn emotional, giving a watery smile when Combeferre placed a hand on her shoulder and murmuring, “Thanks, ’Ferre.”

Combeferre smiled back at her. “Anytime, Ep.”

Enjolras stood by Éponine’s side for the opening of the last few presents—it seemed that his parents had gone all out to spoil their grandchild, much to the couple’s mild embarrassment. Combeferre had pulled up a chair for Enjolras to sit in towards the end so he wouldn’t have to be standing the whole time and they soon came to the last present.

It was nothing particularly large—the package was soft, and Éponine was curious to see what was inside. Ripping off the purple wrapping paper carelessly and discarding it in the pile of torn wrapping paper by her armchair, she furrowed her brow at the sight of a bright red Elmo plushie.

Éponine examined the stuffed doll, turning it over in her hands in fascination. It seemed to be somewhat old—some parts of the plushie looked like it had been chewed on and the red colour was just a tad bit faded, but other than that, it looked almost new. Éponine was confused as to why Enjolras’ parents had given it to them, turning to look at Enjolras and trying not to let her surprise show when she saw that his blue eyes looked just the slightest bit glassy.

“’Jolras?” she whispered softly, just loud enough for him to hear. He startled, seeming to snap out of his trance as he reached for the doll. Bewildered, Éponine handed the plushie to him, watching intently as he turned it over in his hands.

“Mother…” Enjolras looked up, his blue eyes finding Angela’s as he bit down on his lip, attempting to will away his tears as best as he could, not wishing to make a scene in front of everyone. “I thought I lost this.”

Éponine could barely contain her surprise, about to open her mouth to say something before Angela started to speak.

“I was looking through your old bedroom for things I thought I would bring back for you,” Angela explained, approaching her son as he got up from his chair. “I found your old Elmo inside a box and I thought I would give it to you again. It was your first toy; we gave it to you a couple of weeks after you were born and you never went anywhere without it for the next few years until you lost it when you were five. I thought you might want to give it to your own child. Who knows? Maybe your Peanut will have children of their own and maybe they’ll pass Elmo down to their children too.”

Enjolras was rendered speechless, vaguely recalling how he had dragged this stupid little Elmo doll around with him everywhere, remembering how much he had loved it and how upset he had been when he lost it. The thought of giving it to Peanut as their first toy as his parents had done for him stirred up some overly sentimental feelings in him. Letting his instincts take over for once, he impulsively pulled his mother into a hug, still clutching the Elmo plushie in one hand, feeling tears pricking at his eyes before blinking them away as she hugged him back. Éponine watched with a little smile on her face, feeling a few tears escaping the corners of her eyes at the touching sight. The Amis and the other guests had all fallen silent, rather awed by the sight—Enjolras rarely showed such strong emotions, so they knew this was a big deal to him.

When Enjolras pulled away, he mustered a feeble smile, reaching up to wipe away the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. “Thank you, Mother,” he told her quietly, biting down on his lip as Angela smiled back at him.

“Anytime, sweet pea,” Angela replied, laughing when Enjolras made a slight face at the affectionate pet name.

Éponine waited for Enjolras to sit back down next to her before placing a hand on his back, a little smile on her face. “That was really sweet of her,” she whispered to him as he smiled down at the old doll in his hands, hardly able to believe he hadn’t lost it after all. Enjolras nodded, still rather dazed.

“Yeah,” he murmured, running his fingers over the bright red fur of the plushie. “Yeah, it was.”

After some time, Éponine looked up and told everyone, “Well, I guess that’s it for the presents, then!”

“No, wait!” Cosette shrieked, looking as if she had just remembered something. She gestured wildly towards the rest of the Amis as if trying to communicate something to them specifically through wild gesticulations, much to Éponine’s bewilderment, and the next thing she knew, Enjolras was handing the Elmo plushie to her and getting up to join the others, who had gathered near the stairs and seemed to be discussing something before they all darted upstairs, only succeeding in confusing Éponine even further. Gavroche, Azelma, and Bossuet had stayed in the room while the others went upstairs, Bossuet going over to her and telling her to close her eyes. Still confused, Éponine did as she was told, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the others to return, a hand on her bump. It seemed Peanut was impatient as well, judging by the way they were kicking her insides to pieces.

After some time, she heard Bossuet tell her excitedly, “Okay, now open!”

Éponine opened her eyes and nearly choked on her own spit.

Much of the Amis had massive grins on their faces, standing around a box that Éponine instantly knew to be the crib, and from the little picture on the sticker at the top left corner, it was that gorgeous golden-brown crib she had so desperately wanted back when she and Enjolras went to look at cribs in that shop. She had been seriously considering going out and buying a cheaper crib for Peanut but Enjolras had prevented her from doing so every time she spoke aloud of her plans to do so, and though she had been irritated at him for stopping her from doing it each time, it all made sense now.

“Surprise!” Jehan exclaimed happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Éponine tried to speak, but no words came out. Instead, much to her mortification, she burst into silent tears, a tearful little smile on her face as she reached up to wipe away her flood of tears with the sleeve of her dress.

“It was all Enjy’s idea,” Grantaire told her, an enormous grin absolutely dominating his face. “He told us about how you really wanted this crib, so he got us all to put in some money towards buying it.”

“We wanted to surprise you,” Joly chimed in. “So… surprise!”

Éponine’s dark eyes found Enjolras’ blue and she saw that he had that soft smile meant just for her on his face, and she felt herself beginning to tear up all over again at the mere thought that he had gotten all the Amis to contribute money towards buying the crib for her. Had it been just the two of them, she would have wrapped him up in a tight hug with no intention of letting go.

“Guys, I—” Éponine sniffled, reaching up to wipe away her tears as the corners of her mouth ticked up in a little dimpled smile. “I don’t know what to say.”

“A simple thank you would suffice,” Courfeyrac supplied teasingly, laughing when Éponine gave him a look.

To Éponine’s slight chagrin, many guests exchanged little “aww’s” of delight at the touching scene unfolding before them and she felt her cheeks redden. Thankfully, Cosette soon took the reins once again and Éponine didn’t have to worry about all the attention being on her. Soon enough, the guests were leaving and Éponine found herself embracing Angela and Antoine before they left for their long drive back upstate.

“Good luck, Éponine,” Angela told her sincerely once she let go of the young woman. “We’re not sure if we’ll be able to make it for the baby’s birth, but we’ll try to make time for it. Our schedule for the next couple of months is tight.”

“That’s okay,” Éponine replied, stiffening slightly when the older woman’s gaze travelled down to her bump once again.

“Make sure our Gabriel takes care of you, okay?” Angela gave Enjolras a look and he nodded dutifully in response. Éponine laughed and nodded along.

“Of course, Mother,” Enjolras replied, feeling his cheeks growing warm.

After exchanging a few more words, Enjolras’ parents went on their way and soon it was just Les Amis left in Jehan’s apartment, surrounded by countless presents that needed to be loaded into the back of Enjolras’ car. After much discussion, everyone else all grabbed something from the mound of presents to make their way downstairs and outside onto the pavement to begin loading the presents into Enjolras’ car, leaving him and Éponine alone in the loft for some time. Without warning, she pulled him into a tight embrace, beginning to tear up again upon thinking about the crib and how he had managed to talk everyone into contributing money towards it.

Enjolras stiffened up when Éponine pulled him into an unexpected hug, her enormous bump getting in the way somewhat; he quickly recovered and embraced her in return, feeling himself smile softly at how she let out a little sob-laugh into his shirt. “Thank you so much, ’Jolras,” she murmured, giggling through her tears. “Thank you…”

Enjolras pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head, stroking her hair as he felt a faint kick from Peanut. When she drew back, gazing up into his shining blue eyes, she pulled him down into a kiss, her lips finding his. He melted at the feeling of one of her hands sliding up into his curls, kissing her eagerly, his blood rushing in his ears when she sighed against his lips. He still couldn’t quite believe that she had fallen for him as he had for her, still hardly able to believe that this wasn’t just some insane dream he could be waking up from at any moment. The raw passion and love present in the kiss felt too real for it to be just another dream. By the time they broke apart, their breathing rather shallow, Enjolras reached to cup Éponine’s cheek in one hand, tenderly running his thumb over her dimple as he gazed into her eyes. After some time, he spoke.

“Do you want to get going now?” he asked quietly, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

Éponine nodded, grinning up at him. “Come on. Let’s blow this taco stand.”

In her state of exhilaration, all caught up from the events of that day, Éponine forgot about the next few days’ worth of medication awaiting her in the bathroom cabinet back at home.

A/N: we’re nearing the end of this little fic; there are only a few chapters left after this. maybe five or six, give or take.

thank you so much to those who have been following this little passion project of mine! writing this has been a journey; what started out as a dare from @kugirocks turned into what might very well be the most epic thing i’ve ever written, so thank you thank you thank you ray for that dare you gave me all those months ago. you lovely readers mean so much to me; thank you so much!! stay tuned for more! 😘

next chapter: xxx

#kei writes #intertwined #enjonine #enjoninepride #•otp: you are my revolution•#les mis #fanfic #modern au #pregregnert verse #pls reblog

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eirenical · 6 years

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F, I and N, I love h/c and I'm looking for some new writing ideas so I might try out something that you want ❤️💛💚💙💜

F: Care to share a favorite hurt/comfort fic?

OK, so this is becoming harder than I expected, so instead of a comprehensive list, I will just pull out a few favorites. I know I’m leaving things out, but my brain is not quite up to the monumental task of listing all my favorite hurt/comfort fic tonight. O_o;;;

then burn the ashes by @kvothes

Maybe they differ the most in their dispositions, in the way they react to injustice. Where Feuilly bruises, Enjolras bleeds.(Enjolras x Feuilly)

The writing and characterizations on this are just flat out gorgeous. Enjolras texts Feuilly to ask him to look after his plant for the night. Feuilly does so and finds himself still there when Enjolras returns in the morning, a bit shook up and bruised, but still somehow relieved to find Feuilly there. Comfort and adorableness ensues. ^_^

OK, I could probably just add: EVERYTHING EVER BY @takethewatch to this list and not be lying. ;D But a couple of specifics…

Carry On and the ensuing “fix-its/follow-ups”

Feuilly moves to a new city to start over. He plans to keep his head down this time, to work an 8 to 5 job and keep to himself and settle for getting by. His hopes are modest, reasonable: He hopes to keep up on his loan payments, to get along with his coworkers, to get through another Christmas alone.

He doesn’t plan on getting sucked into a group of literacy activists who care way too much, on getting involved in trying to fix the world again, on stumbling into people who actually seem to care about him. He doesn’t plan on being happy.

I really, really need to do a re-read of this series. It’s one of my favorite Feuilly stories EVER and a part of why is because of all the glorious hurt/comfort. ^_^ But seriously, this is my favorite ever Amis Origin Story. *_*

the best medicine

Five times Joly took care of his friends, and one time they took care of him.

I am weak, ABSOLUTELY WEAK for competent!joly fic. And here we have him taking care of everyone and then getting taken care of and just GOSH I LOVE JOLY. *_*

A Passion for the Absoluteby @amarguerite

Courfeyrac gets severely injured and turns to Enjolras, high priest of the ideal that he is, for a little illumination. Courfeyrac enlightens Enjolras in return. Featuring terrible puns, romantic and Romantic excesses, and the Battle of Hernani.

Holy, oh my goodness, THIS FIC. *falls over* This is possibly my favorite ever canon era fic. I don’t even have WORDS for how much flail I’m still in over this fic, even years later. This is the fic that made me utterly and completely fall in love with Enjolras and Courfeyrac, as friends, as lovers, as EVERYTHING. And there’s just SO. MUCH. BEAUTIFUL. HURT/COMFORT. TT^TT I LOVE IT SO.

The Peace of Wild Thingsby @ariadneslostthread

Series of vignettes featuring the Chief, the Guide and the Centre. And an obscene amount of h/c.

1. “Good.” Enjolras says with finality. “Now, if you will all excuse me, I’m going to lock myself in a darkened room for a few hours.”

2. Combeferre sighs as he looks from Courfeyrac to Enjolras and back, “I don’t feel entirely myself tonight, to be honest.” He smiles weakly.

3. It is a quiet, reserved sort of concern and love which entirely suits Enjolras so he is happy to share the sofa and pile of blankets with Courfeyrac, their legs tangled together like some sort of two headed, phlegm-ridden blanket monster, coughing and sniffling to his heart’s content without feeling self-conscious.

4. Courfeyrac. It isn’t until he’s retrieved his toothbrush from inside the bathroom cabinet that he catches sight of himself in the mirror, and lets out a horrified scream.

This is honestly one of my most self-indulgent favorite h/c fic. It’s one of the ones I come back to over and over and over, especially if I’m in need of comfort, myself. I just love these three so much and I love how deeply they care for each other in this fic and just EVERYTHING. *_*

All I Have Known by @whimsical-in-the-brainpan

Grantaire’s motto has always been “it only hurts if you care.” Of course, Éponine knows that secretly he’s always cared. But it’s just easier for him to play the strawman than to actually let himself believe. It’s safer.

This is an epically long series of slow-burn e/R that focuses on Eponine and Grantaire’s amazingly co-dependent friendship and JFC, it’s still one of my favorites even though I’m not really on the e/R bandwagon anymore. It just packs SUCH an emotional punch throughout the entire thing and I love it SO MUCH. I really need to re-read it, too. ;D (Side note: I especially love the characterization of Cosette in this fic. It’s one of my favorites, to this day. ^_^)

I Know How to Love Only When You’re Holding Meby @kingesstropolis

Courfeyrac and Enjolras grew up next door to each other, with their families so close they might as well be related at this point. So when Enjolras’s older sister gets engaged, Courfeyrac knows he’ll be attending the wedding–which isn’t a problem until it becomes clear he’s supposed to bring a significant other to the wedding. Not having dated anyone in the years since his last disastrous relationship and unable to tell his mother why he’s given up on romance, Courfeyrac does the only logical thing–he brings along his new fake boyfriend, Combeferre.

OK, so this one may not TECHNICALLY be h/c, but it involves a lot of angst and emotional h/c, so I SAY IT COUNTS. Featuring an ace!Courfeyrac who has put himself through hell and back to get to that conclusion and faces an even steeper uphill battle to accept that he’s still worthy of love and that someone could love him. And it’s just so lovely and painful and ^__________^.

@thecoffeetragedy always writes really good hurt/comfort, mostly on tumblr, like this really lovely little Combeferre & Courfeyrac ficlet she wrote for me, but you can find a bunch of them here on AO3, too.

I also have a ton of other h/c recs, like I’m sure I’m going to think of a million more that just HAVE TO BE on this list as soon as I post this, but THIS IS A GOOD START, HOPEFULLY, Y/Y? I also have a ton of others in other fandoms, but I think you are Love, Simon AU nonny, so hopefully these were all relevant to your interests. ^_^

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

I don’t really believe in guilty pleasures. I thoroughly enjoy all my pleasures, no shame attached. ^_~ I absolutely love H/C and sick!fic of every flavor and variety, but I feel absolutely no guilt or shame about that whatsoever. BRING IT ON. *_*

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

And I just answered this one in the last ask, so a little c/p wouldn’t hurt…

Pfft. There’s a part of me that really wishes someone would finish FYFM for me at this point, but not too seriously. I’m too much of a control freak for that. -.-;;;

As for stories I wish someone would WRITE for me? *evil grin* Anything in any of these tags:

dear yuletide author

dear miserable holidays author

dear not for primetime author

dear pr femslash ficathon writer

dear rare pair fest writer

dear trick or treat writer

HAVE AT. SERIOUSLY. *chinhands* ^___________^

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, NONNY. Hopefully you see this. ^_^

(Anyone else want to send some? ^_^)

#long post #fic recs #other people's fic #ask meme answers #Anonymous #conversations through replies

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eglantinian · 7 years

Text

well goodnight moon, i want the sun (e/é modern AU)

For @hihiyas and @decembersiris

Title: well goodnight moon, i want the sun Summary: Enjolras and Éponine are locked out in the balcony one summer evening as their best friends Combeferre and Grantaire fuck in their apartment. What's the worst that could happen? Pairing(s): Éponine/Enjolras (e/é), Grantaire/Combeferre Read below, or find it at AO3 | FFNET

"It's just a fling, I'm telling you."

The tightness in his voice made her look at him. His lips were set in a fine line, as he skimmed through some academic treatise listlessly. Raising a brow, she peered at what he was reading and saw that the paper was entitled Rebel Governance and the Politics of Civil War by Didier Péclard and Delphine Mechoulan from the Swiss Peace Foundation. Crinkling her nose and turning away from him, she shrugged, letting the comfort of the soft beanie bag warm her and take her mind away from hearing Combeferre and Grantaire going at it. They were going to be stuck in the balcony for quite a while until those two stopped fucking.

"You sound as if you're jealous, hmm," Éponine commented lazily, looking at some dormitory pegs she saw posted at Pinterest. "Conscience bugging you this time, Enjolras? Since you turned R down?"

She swore she could feel his blue eyes narrowing at her before it happened, and when it did, the satisfaction of seeing his irritated face made her look at him. True enough, the scowl was apparent in the deep curve of his lips as he breathed through his nose. He appeared to be trying not to let her get to him, but was failing spectacularly.

Oh, he is so easy to annoy, she thought, a smirk already present on her mocking visage.

5...

4...

3...

2...

1...

"I just think that Combeferre is wasting his time with that drunkard, and no amount of 'Change, but with Compassion' arguments by my best friend will change my mind about the propensity of that person to err and use alcohol - a less than stellar way of coping with the fact that I can never return his feelings. So he tried to get it on with my best friend," he retorted, his blue eyes flaring. Gritting his teeth, he moved farther away from Éponine and held his phone more tightly.

She gasped loudly, and smacked his forearm. "What the actual fuck? I really wonder what exactly it is that R saw in you. You must think the sun shines out of your derrière!" Crossing her arms, she couldn't help the venom in her voice as she snarled, "Is that what you think this relationship for him is? You think he's that shallow? Ha! Fucking ha! I pity you, and I pity Combeferre that he has a best friend like you who thinks that way!"

Enjolras stood, putting his phone in his pocket, as he glared at her. "You just don't get it, do you? He drunk-texts me sometimes! I already blocked his number, but for some reason Bahorel thinks it's all right to let him continue doing that!"

The fury Éponine felt for her best friend made her gasp inaudibly as she stared at this fair-haired connard, vitriol making her ball her hands into fists.

"Our best friends are dating for about a year now! I thought you would've changed! But no! You're still the spawn of satan!" she spat tersely as she rose up to meet him, throwing her phone to the beanie bag. A certain spark of electricity crackled in the air, but she ignored it as she matched his fierce stare with one of her own vindictive glares. The kind that says, Bitch, I'm so going to ruin you.

He drew nearer to her, until she could almost feel the wrath that emanated from him with the way he looked at her. "Huh, that's rich coming from you." The usual silkiness of his voice grew raspy as he hissed at her. "You used Montparnasse to get over that booby Marius Pontmercy who chose Cosette Fauchelevent over you. I? Shallow? Look in the mirror, Éponine. Look." The way he said her name made it seem as if he dragged it on a muddy patch of earth and repeatedly stomped on it with gusto.

Her breath shook with anger, and she struggled to compose herself. She stabbed a finger to his white polo-covered chest, and advanced towards him. She ignored, once more, how it was unbuttoned slightly and that if her eyes dropped to that particular area, she would be able to perceive a bit of his skin. That was not the focus, however, and she treaded nearer to him as the hostility in her adenoidal voice became apparent when she harshly retorted, "How dare you bring that up again? I thought we could be friends, but no, monsieur, you fucked us up again. We agreed to have a truce for them, and in that agreement, if I may so remind you, we decided not to bring that up! What's the matter with you? Why are you doing this?!"

"You're such a connard!" she growled, stabbing another finger to his chest.

Enjolras walked towards her rapidly, forcing her to back up to the ledge of the balcony. Éponine swallowed, willing herself not to be afraid of the ferocity of his strides and to stop certain traumatic events from clouding her vision. Brows raising, she taunted him with a laugh. "What's this, huh? Resorting to this level of persuasion?"

"I don't even know why I bother explaining," he responded, and the sudden deadness of his voice alarmed her. He neared her again, and this time, she felt some sweat prickling at the back of her neck as his lips almost touched hers. "I am a demisexual. I know you understand what that means, but I also am biromantic. Grantaire knew these, and he has tried to interact with me a lot of times. But it was all just surface-level conversations. I was too busy and focused with my work to form any sort of bond with him, or anyone else for that matter. In the end, when he confessed, I just could not return it. After that, he drunk more. I tried to talk to him about that. But no - the man is a sceptic to a fault. So I asked Combeferre to help, being the reasonable man that he was, and what did R do? He kissed Combeferre, who was too kind of a person to push him away! So do forgive me for thinking that their relationship will end badly and shortly."

Éponine grabbed his collar, and saw his eyes flash with something undecipherable to her at the moment. Heat. She filed it away for later, as she shot back, "Let them try! For fuck's sake, Enjolras! Didn't it ever occur to you that maybe it started as a rebound, but evolved to something real? Huh? Is that not something to check out first? Shouldn't you not judge them for trying to heal together?"

Enjolras neared her again, and a certain swooping sensation in her stomach almost weakened her knees as her eyes suddenly drifted to his lips. She briefly noted how plumped it was, until she realised where her thoughts were going, and it made her stand erect immediately. What the actual fuck? she thought, her grip tightening on his collars.

"I'll have you know that I have," he scoffed, and he turned his head away for a bit as he put his hands on the railings beside her arms. She stilled for a bit, but shrugged it away as his fair curls caressed her cheeks. He didn't appear to realise how Éponine released a deep breath as she eased her hold on him, and she noticed the way his shoulders stooped lowly.

Fighting with Enjolras drained a lot out of her. It frustrated her a lot because she really wanted to keep trying to befriend him. He was difficult, but his honesty and sincerity always managed to level her tenacious personality. She also treasured the way he held her sometimes when she cried, especially when her brother died. On that doleful day, he had looked at the way shadows were present below her eyes and simply put a hand to her waist to lightly beckon her to him. A sob whimpered out of her lips, and he took her in his arms, embracing her fully. He was quiet, even as he tried to pretend that he didn't drop a kiss to her hair. But she felt its warmth, and it was enough to lessen the weight in her chest.

In the end, they made quite a pair of friends, and she treasured his friendship, so having this kind of discussion with him stung.

Nonetheless, she agreed that even she herself found Combeferre and Grantaire's relationship odd at first, but when she saw the gradual change and desire for redemption in her best friend, she relented. It finally made sense. Combeferre was always so understanding and caring towards him, and she guessed that was why they worked so well.

If only Enjolras would stop being so stubborn, he would see this kind of reasoning, but it would probably take more time. It was nice that he was incorruptible, but sometimes, this made him dogmatic when it came to people whom he perceived were not as steadfast as he was towards their goals in life.

Eyeing him from the corner of her lids, she saw how firm the curve was forming on his lips. Mirroring his frown, she felt her eyes tear up a bit. It always sucked when they fought. She bowed her head in exhaustion, feeling the argument deflate within her.

"I just wish that people would understand -" he began again, facing her as she was raising her head, and accidentally met her lips in a kiss.

The silence in the night grew more immense, and the two found themselves stuck in the position as they stared at each other in interest. His blue eyes flickered as she felt her eyes widen at the contact.

A certain lightness thrummed within her heart as a rather peculiar feeling of serenity filled her whole being.

Éponine blinked, and was about to move her mouth away to scream at him when he jolted away from her, his hands grasping her waist in an attempt to break his fall. But that was not to be, and so they began the quick descent towards the ground in the balcony.

Quite clumsily, she would say, as he fell to the floor and dragged her with him in a PLOP, his back meeting the beanie bags. Her head lay on his chest, and Enjolras grunted from the slight ache. She felt a bit winded, but she continued to stay still so she would not make it worse before looking up at him. His eyes were focused towards the night-time sky, and she noted that his cheeks were incarnadine from embarrassment.

"It really had to come to this," Enjolras muttered to himself, his voice low, and she became aware of his hands on her waist once more. A line of warmth spread itself across her visage as she processed what his statement probably meant. Maybe it would finally clarify the reasons she has been making up in her head to avoid fighting with him.

There was a reason why she was known for her veracity, as well, though, so she rose up a bit by putting her hands by the sides of his head. She bit her lip and tried to resist the urge to slide her fingers through his curls. It was just so near to touch, and she found herself aching with the desire to do it.

I want to finish that kiss, her traitorous mind whispered, and she mentally nodded in agreement. She just wants to know something first.

"Are you saying that you're in love with me, Enjolras? Or something, hmm?" she challenged, eyeing him as he closed his lids before opening them to meet her gaze.

She felt his hands curl at the small of her back, and it was a while before he responded clearly. "I suspected it already, and I'm not ashamed of it, really. But I don't know about you. You are so hard to read sometimes."

Éponine rolled her eyes, sliding her fingers to his blonde curls and watching his eyes flutter at her touch. "Say it," she demanded, straddling him suddenly, not at all minding that her emerald dress drew up and showed him a bit of a peek of what's down there. If he did, that is. Well, she's not wearing anything. She's in their apartment, so to hell with social conventions. It was freer that way.

A low moan escaped his lips, the raw desire present in the hoarseness of his voice. All the same, it did not deter him from quipping, "What do you want? For me to quote Victor Hugo's love letter for Adele Foucher in 1821?"

She moved her hips above his denims, and smirked as she felt something rise beneath her. "No, I want you," she teased, "but tell me, anyway."

Rolling his eyes, Enjolras decided that they could play this game together and cupped her arse before squeezing it. She hummed with approval.

Do that again, please, she found herself wishing, and it must have shown on her face as a smirk found its way on his lips. He regarded her with heavily lidded eyes before he relented.

"Fine," he said, amused as he watched her sigh happily when he caressed her buttocks through her dress before gripping it tightly. "He wrote to her: 'This union is love – genuine, complete love, such as few men can imagine. It is a love which is a religion, since the object of love is regarded as a divinity, with all the devotion and affection which turn the greatest sacrifices into the sublimest joys. Such a love you inspire in me, and such a love you will someday feel for me, although to my sorrow you do not feel it now. Your soul is incapable of an angelic love. It may be, therefore, that only an angel can inspire such a love'."

Éponine knew it was romantic, so it turned her on a bit. Words just sounded so good when it came from his lips. It was just so fucking hot. Fucking. That was it. They need to fuck.

Stretching her body a bit, she raised a brow, a fond curl forming on her lips. "Cool. I'm on the pill. Wanna fuck?"

Under the moonlight, his blue eyes darkened with pleasure. He placed a finger beneath her breast, tracing its path gently. The thinness on her dress made the gesture satisfyingly sweet and arousing, and she shivered as he asked, "Already, Éponine?"

"Well, in case, you're blind, I have been rather in love with you, too. We could talk about feelings later, though," she said in a blasé tone, a fond curl on her lips. The way her heart swelled, however, told her that it was the opposite of that. Nothing about Enjolras was. But she did not want to be eloquent right now because the heat starting pool in her stomach was making her sweat with anticipation.

"So yeah, wanna fuck or just dry hump?" No one ever did say that she wasn't shy from blurting out what she wants. "I firmly believe that you and I will find the former more... enjoyable."

"Why do I find your crassness appealing?" The playful lilt in his tone made her smile unabashedly as she gazed at him.

But of course, she has to balance the floating feeling with her candidness. "You're supposedly in love with me, so yeah, naturally, you would find everything I do appealing."

His chuckle widened into an all-out smile, as he murmured her name softly and stroked her arm tenderly.

Grinning at his ministrations, Éponine moved away from him for a bit before she unbuckled his belt, put his fly down, and released his cock from the tightness of his underpants. Stroking the length of it, she gripped it and put the whole damn thing in her mouth. She did this while he stared, his surprise giving way to excited and satisfied moans.

"Éponine," he whispered lowly, his fingers slipping through the ends of her hair.

Convinced that his dick was wet enough, she stood up a bit and lifted her skirt up, letting his eyes see underneath her dress.

"Y-you're not wearing anything beneath that?" he spluttered, his voice cracking a bit as his hands caressed her thighs.

"How astute of you, Enjolras," she sassed, placing herself above him until his pole was just a hair's breath away from her throbbing centre.

Enjolras grabbed her suddenly and entered her smoothly in her stupefaction. He pounded on her rapidly until she was panting and feeling herself slowly being taken apart. She gasped as he squeezed her breasts through the thinness of her garment.

A fond curl formed on his lips as he put a finger to play with her clitoris. Upon circling it, she shivered, and he laughed as he continued to thrust within her. He repeated all these ministrations until he felt her quiver and collapse on him. He dropped a kiss on her head, and slid a finger by her spine. He heard her sigh in contentment. It did not matter that he was not able to release. Yet.

"You are so terrible," she muttered fondly, exhausted but still not moving away from their position. She fingered the buttons on his polo, admiring the way it set his blonde curls to focus.

"I am," he acquiesced, threading her hair with his fingers. "Wanna keep fucking? Or do you want to talk more about this?"

"Neither. I just want to lay down here for a bit with you," she responded, finally releasing his dick from within her. He let her help him dress himself silently, and when they were done, he took her to his arms and let her lips stay on his neck.

"How long do you think have they been fucking?" he asked, tracing a line on her collarbone.

Éponine hummed, greatly satisfied with his affectionate gesture. "Ugh. I don't give a fuck anymore. It's been so long."

"It's good that it's still summer, then. If it's winter, fucking outdoors is a bad idea."

"I'm of half a mind to try that."

Enjolras laughed into the night, and pressed his lips upon hers once more.

#enjonine #e/e #grantaire/combeferre #enjolras #eponine #grantaire #combeferre #Les Misérables

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usergrantaire · 6 years

Text

Intertwined: Chapter XIII

A/N: ya gal is officially on spring break! since i’ll be cooped up at home all week because my parents suck, i’ll be writing an awful lot and so here’s an update!

for those of you reading my fake dating au: i haven’t abandoned it, i promise!! chapter four is a beast to write so i’ll just see how that goes. as soon as i finish chapter four, i’ll have it up!

anyway, here’s chapter thirteen, hope you enjoy!

READ IT HERE ON AO3

previous chapter: xxx

“Eppy, I’m not trying to sound too cliché or anything, but I swear, you’re glowing,” Cosette gushed as Éponine, Musichetta, and Azelma took a seat on one of the plush sofas in the boutique while the consultant, Natasha, patiently stood aside, waiting for Cosette to finish conversing with the other women. “You look stunning.”

Éponine grinned back at Cosette, rubbing her bump and laughing when Peanut kicked. “Thanks, Cosette, but how the hell am I supposed to fit into a bridesmaid dress now?”

“If you don’t mind me interrupting, ma’am, I think a dress with an empire waist would be perfect for her,” Natasha piped up from beside Cosette. The blonde’s blue eyes lit up at the consultant’s suggestion, and she began to bounce on the balls of her feet, nodding in agreement.

“Yes! That sounds perfect,” Cosette squealed, sidling over to take Éponine’s hands in hers and pull her to her feet. “Chetta, Zelma, how do you feel about empire dresses?”

Azelma shrugged. “I’m cool with anything, really, as long as it looks good.”

“Same here,” Musichetta agreed, grinning at Cosette from her spot on the sofa.

“Would you like to look for bridesmaid dresses first or do you want to look for your wedding dress first?” Natasha questioned as Cosette turned to her, a look of utter happiness and excitement on her heart-shaped face.

“I suppose we could go look for bridesmaid dresses first,” Cosette told Natasha brightly. “I was thinking of something pastel pink, and of course with empire waistlines to accommodate Eppy’s little one,” Cosette added, her voice lowering to a whisper as she put an arm around Éponine’s waist and pulled her close. Éponine turned pink when Natasha gave her a warm smile, her chocolate brown eyes travelling down to her bump in interest.

“Congratulations,” Natasha told her sincerely. “How far along are you?”

“I’m almost at twenty-three weeks,” Éponine replied, smiling back at Natasha and trying not to seem too flustered by the consultant’s unexpected words. She felt an odd sort of relief when Natasha turned her attention back to Cosette, going back to sit by Azelma and Musichetta as Cosette and Natasha discussed the exact kind of dress Cosette wanted, Natasha adding her own two cents every now and then. Resting a hand against her bump, Éponine let out a tiny groan when Peanut gave a particularly hard kick, catching Azelma and Musichetta’s attention.

“You okay there?” Musichetta questioned curiously, giving Éponine a look as Azelma did the same.

“Peanut kicks hard,” Éponine replied, laughing softly to herself when Peanut kicked once again as if to prove their mother’s point. “’Jolras was able to feel it last appointment, actually. Do you want to feel?”

“Hell yeah!” Azelma immediately pressed a hand to her sister’s bump, hazel eyes widening in awe when she felt something hit her hand. “Holy shit,” she murmured softly, hardly able to believe what she was feeling. There was a little baby growing inside of her sister, a baby who shared her blood, and Azelma questioned, “What’s the gender-neutral term for niece or nephew?”

“I believe the proper term is ‘nibling’,” Éponine replied, snorting at the way the word sounded. She decided that she liked how it sounded, smiling when Azelma laughed at the new information.

“I want to feel them kick too,” Musichetta interjected, placing a hand on Éponine’s bump and letting out a little gasp of surprise when she felt Peanut kick. “Oh, wow,” she murmured in surprise, unaccustomed the the strange feeling. “That’s new.”

Éponine grinned, telling Musichetta and Azelma, “At this rate, I’m going to have to put them on a soccer team one day. They’re kicking me to pieces.”

“Oh!” The three women looked up at the sound of Cosette’s silvery voice. The blonde had a hopeful look in her big blue eyes, asking, “Can I feel it?”

“Go right ahead,” Éponine replied, gesturing to her bump as Azelma and Musichetta pulled their hands away to give Cosette some space. The blonde knelt down before Éponine, her eyes widening when she felt Peanut kicking, a hysterical-sounding giggle escaping her plump lips.

“Oh, wow,” Cosette murmured softly, awed by the strange sensation. Éponine smiled at the look of wonder on Cosette’s face, feeling her cheeks flush from the feeling of all the other women’s eyes on her bump.

After some time, Natasha cleared her throat behind Cosette, asking Éponine, Azelma, and Musichetta, “Would you like to try on your dresses now?”

Standing up, Éponine saw about a dozen dresses laid out neatly on another of the sofas, all in varying shades of pastel pink. Tentatively making her way over to them, her eyes raked over the different dresses, mild interest in her dark eyes as she picked out the ones she liked best. When they had arrived, all four of the women had given Natasha their sizes so she wouldn’t have to measure each of them separately before searching for dresses.

“Cosette decided on four different styles of dresses,” Natasha explained as Azelma delicately picked one of the dresses up, looking at it in interest. “I laid them out for the three of you. Which ones would you like to try on first?”

Éponine, Azelma, and Musichetta immediately pointed towards three identical pale pink dresses, evoking a laugh from Natasha. “Well, go on, try them on.”

Natasha led the three of them to a row of dressing rooms, each of them finding separate vacant stalls, and soon enough, Éponine was alone in a little dressing room, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Stripping down to her underwear, she stood there for several moments after putting her hair up in a messy bun, just staring at herself in the mirror and getting a good look at her bump. Over the course of the past few weeks, it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to bend over, and she just stood there, looking curiously at the faint line beneath her belly button, just a few shades darker than her olive skin. The fact that she was pregnant was glaringly obvious now, and she stood there, her brow furrowed as she looked herself up and down in the mirror, unsure of what to think.

Trying not to overthink it as she tended to do with other things, she managed to get the dress on, somehow managing to zip it up herself and inspecting herself in the mirror.

It was a strapless floor-length gown, with a flowing chiffon skirt, a beaded bodice, and a sweetheart neckline, a thin silver belt around the waistline, which rested comfortably above Éponine’s bump. Surprisingly, she liked the pastel pink colour, doing a complete 360 and trying to see what it looked like from the back. After some time, she just stood there for several more moments, frowning at how her breasts seemed to be bursting out of the dress before exiting the dressing room to find that Azelma and Musichetta had come out in their dresses as well, seeming as if they had mixed feelings about the dresses. Natasha stood up once the three of them had approached her and Cosette, questioning anxiously, “Do you like these ones?”

Azelma pursed her lips, finding that the dress wasn’t quite her style. Cosette seemed to agree, furrowing her brow as a saddened look flitted across her face for a mere millisecond before she regained her composure.

“I think one of the other ones would be better,” Musichetta finally replied, her tone gentle. Natasha nodded in understanding, handing another of the dresses to Musichetta before doing the same with Azelma and Éponine.

Éponine found that she liked this dress much better—it was an empire gown in a slightly different shade of pastel pink, paler and much simpler than the last dress, and she loved the cap sleeves of the dress; she gathered a portion of the floor-length chiffon skirt in her hand, swishing the skirt about, and she immediately fell in love with the dress. Leaving the dressing room, her clothes gathered in her arms, she did another 360 for Cosette, a hopeful look in her dark eyes as they found Cosette’s blue. Cosette nodded approvingly as Musichetta exited her dressing room, soon followed by Azelma making a reappearance, and Cosette stood up to walk over to them, sizing them up and clapping her hands together.

“Yes!” she cried out happily, bouncing up and down in excitement as she gave an approving nod. “We’ll take these dresses.”

“Absolutely,” Natasha replied warmly, taking the other dresses to put them back up on display.

Cosette pulled her phone out, asking the three women, “Would you mind if I took a picture? Just to show Marius. Can all three of you stand together, please?”

Éponine, Azelma, and Musichetta did as they were told, grinning at the camera; Cosette managed to capture the moment Éponine laughed when Peanut kicked, barely able to resist a squeal of excitement once she had placed her phone back in her purse, turning to Natasha once the consultant returned. The both of them exchanged a few words, seeming to discuss what kind of dress Cosette had in mind, before they went off, presumably on a hunt for the perfect dress as Éponine, Azelma, and Musichetta sat back down, waiting patiently for them to return.

Time seemed to drag on as Cosette tried on a dress, rather unsatisfied by how it looked and immediately going off on a search for another one, and Éponine felt as if she was dozing off when she felt vibrations coming from her purse. Curious, Éponine opened her purse to find her phone screen lighting up, reaching in to fish it out, shocked to find that Gavroche was calling her. Immediately picking up, she held the phone up to her ear. “Gavroche?”

“Éponine, thank fuck!” Gavroche cursed at the other end of the line. Éponine could hear the faint sounds of other, unfamiliar voices in the background, her heart beginning to pound in her chest at the anguish in Gavroche’s voice. “I’ve tried to call you four times now!”

“Gav, what happened?” she asked urgently, trying to calm her racing heart. “Where are you?”

“I’m in an ambulance, we’re just arriving at the hospital,” Gavroche replied. “Enjolras—he got hurt—something happened and he got hit by a car—”

“What?!” Éponine shot up to her feet, feeling as if her lungs were constricting. Musichetta and Azelma looked up in alarm, their eyes wide as Éponine began to pace back and forth, breathing heavily. Finding it difficult to breathe all of a sudden, Éponine desperately tried to calm her frantically beating heart, wishing she could assure herself that everything would be okay, her hand resting on her bump. Feeling that frighteningly familiar sting of tears in her eyes, she asked shakily, “Gavroche, what happened?”

“I was arguing with these boys after they called you a whore when Enjolras showed up to pick me up and I was about to punch one of those boys in the face when he jumped in to stop me and then they pushed him and I guess he slipped on some ice because the next thing I knew, he was in the middle of the street and he had just gotten up when a car hit him,” Gavroche responded rapidly all in one breath as if he was fearful that Éponine would get angry at him for being in a fight in the first place. “I guess the road was icy. The paramedics told me he broke his leg. They say he’s going to be all right, but he’s in bad shape right now. I’ve called Combeferre and he said he’s going to call the others and we’re all going to meet at the hospital. Éponine, hurry,” Gavroche pleaded, seeming to grow more frantic by the moment. “One of the last things Enjolras asked me to do before he passed out was to call you. He needs you there with him, Éponine.”

Her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a sob, Éponine replied in a trembling voice, “I’ll get there as soon as I can. I’ll leave right now.”

“Hurry, Ep,” Gavroche told her, giving her the hospital address before he hung up, leaving Éponine to stand there in the middle of the boutique in shock, placing her phone back in her purse as she turned around, her eyes wildly searching for Cosette, who had just exited a dressing room back in her regular clothes.

“Cosette, I’m sorry, but we have to leave,” Éponine told her, her tone urgent as she rushed over to the blonde. “Like, right now.”

Cosette’s brow furrowed in confusion, asking, “Eppy, what happened?”

“’Jolras is hurt,” Éponine replied, feeling tears beginning to run down her face and reaching up to wipe them away with the sleeve of her sweater. “Gav just called me. He got hit by a car and he broke his leg, and maybe worse. Cosette, I’m so sorry, but we have to go. Right now.”

Cosette nodded in understanding, biting down on her lip out of worry as she went over to Natasha, telling her apologetically, “I’m so sorry, Natasha, but I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule. Something came up and it’s urgent.”

Natasha looked back at Cosette in bewilderment, asking her rather timidly, “What happened?”

“Éponine’s boyfriend—the father of her baby—he was in a car accident,” Cosette explained, looking back to find that Musichetta and Azelma were hastily gathering their things as Éponine stood there, already in her coat and trying to fight back tears. Natasha’s eyes widened in horror and she nodded, sympathetic.

“Well, then, go,” the consultant told Cosette, handing the blonde her purse once she had pulled on her coat. “When you can, just text me later so we can reschedule.”

“Thank you so much, Natasha,” Cosette told her gratefully, reaching for the consultant’s hand and squeezing it. “Again, I’m so, so, so sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It’s okay, really,” Natasha assured Cosette. “Go with Éponine. She looks like she’s going to faint.”

Whirling around, Cosette saw that Natasha was right, her blue eyes widening as Éponine pressed a hand to her chest, seeming as if she was struggling to breathe. Without further ado, Cosette marched over to the brunette and ushered her out of the boutique, Azelma and Musichetta on their heels as they nearly broke into a run on their way to the subway station.

“Éponine, please calm down!” Cosette cried out tearfully as Éponine burst into hysterical tears, and attracting odd looks from passersby as they went down the stairs and onto the platform. The train couldn’t come soon enough. “All this stress can’t be good for the baby!”

Cosette flinched when Éponine looked up to glare at her through red-rimmed eyes, snapping back, “I’m sorry, but you weren’t the one whose boyfriend got hit by a fucking car, so with all due respect, Cosette, shut the fuck up.”

As the train finally came, Cosette told herself that Éponine was simply in shock and was lashing out, knowing that she wouldn’t normally say such biting words. Cosette, Musichetta, and Azelma dragged Éponine into the train, finding her a seat and forcing her into it. Éponine pressed a hand against her racing heart, unable to keep all the terrible thoughts from running through her head as she immediately jumped to conclusions, imagining the worst-case scenario and crying even harder at the thought of losing Enjolras. At this point, she couldn’t give less fucks about whether or not people were staring at her, letting herself shake with uncontrollable sobs as she caressed her bump, looking to Peanut for reassurance and feeling the slightest bit of comfort when they kicked.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time the train finally screeched to a stop at their stop, Éponine immediately getting to her feet and ignoring how light-headed she felt because of it as she, Cosette, Azelma, and Musichetta exited the train, Éponine taking the steps two at a time despite the other women’s warnings, breaking into a jog once she was on the pavement and ignoring the others’ worried shouts as they chased after her. Everything around her felt too bright, too cheerful for her liking—the sun was shining down upon the city, people happily conversing and the smell of hot dogs wafting through the air as pigeons flew about from tree to tree, almost as if they were all mocking Éponine in her state of panic. She felt as if her senses had been heightened, feeling the stinging cold and bright sunshine on her skin, sighting all the colours and faces around her and growing overwhelmed, smelling the putrid smells from an alleyway she rushed by and immediately feeling as if she was about to hurl, tasting vomit in her mouth as she rushed over to the nearest trash can and gripped the edges, finally throwing up.

“Éponine!” Azelma shrieked as she rushed over to her sister, pulling her dark hair back as Éponine vomited into the trash can, tears leaking out of her eyes at the sharp, rancid smell that hit her nose. She choked on a sob as she threw up, wondering what the hell she had done in her life to deserve all this shit that had happened and was happening to her, vaguely feeling Musichetta’s hand rubbing her back as she emptied her stomach of that afternoon’s lunch. When she was standing up straight once again, she continued to jog towards the hospital until Azelma forced her into a walk, not wanting anything to happen to her sister and Peanut.

Once the hospital finally came into view, Éponine wrestled her arm out of Azelma’s iron grip and took off running, nearly crashing into Combeferre outside of the entrance to the emergency room. “Combeferre!” she exclaimed in surprise, looking up at him through wide, frightened brown eyes to find that he was near tears. “What’s going on?” she asked urgently, tears brimming in her eyes as she grabbed his arms, clinging to them for dear life as she shook him slightly. “Where’s everybody?”

“Everyone else is inside, they’re in the waiting room. They sent me outside to wait for you four,” Combeferre replied, placing his hands on Éponine’s shoulders and trying desperately to subdue her. “Éponine, please calm down. Stressing yourself out like this isn’t good for Peanut. I know Enjolras wouldn’t want you to get this worked up.” Taking her arm, he guided her inside to the waiting room, the other three women closely behind them.

Everyone looked up upon seeing Éponine enter, Cosette immediately rushing into Marius’ arms as Musichetta went over to occupy the vacant seat Bossuet and Joly had left between them. Azelma went over to stand by Gavroche’s seat rather awkwardly as Éponine looked around through wild dark eyes, looking as if she was about to faint and feeling light-headed. Pressing a hand to her bump, she began to pace back and forth, ignoring her increasing dizziness and having an internal meltdown.

“Eppy, I think you should sit down,” Jehan called out rather timidly, causing Éponine to stop in her tracks and glare at him. She was just about to shoot back with a cutting retort when she felt her knees buckle, nearly losing her footing from how faint she felt, and she begrudgingly did as Jehan suggested, taking a seat in the vacant chair next to Grantaire. Unable to hold back the tears she felt pricking her eyes, she let herself sob, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle her sobs, not wishing to earn looks of pity from the others. Beside her, Grantaire scooted closer and pulled her into a hug, letting her sob her eyes out into his shoulder as she flung her arms around him, clinging to him for dear life as jumbled thoughts raced through her head.

“Is he—is ’Jolras—is he going to be okay?” she managed to choke out, pulling back to look at Grantaire through red-rimmed eyes.

“I don’t know,” Grantaire replied quietly, unusually subdued, making her cry even harder as she buried her face in his shoulder once again, shaking with sobs.

Whenever she was in her highest spirits, life always seemed to find a way to bring her down, serving as a painful reminder of the fact that despite her newfound happiness, the struggles and difficulties she had faced in the past would come back to haunt her whenever she least expected it. She was still rather shaken from her encounter with her mother from five days ago, wishing she could just hate her mother like she had always done, but of course it could never be that easy. Of course her mother had to change as a person while behind bars, of course she had to change only after Éponine decided that she was as good as dead to her and cut her out of her life; words couldn’t describe how much she loathed the idea of her mother becoming a part of her life again, regardless of whether she had changed for the better or not. If her mother had been able to change, what would her father be like when she almost inevitably encountered him again?

Combeferre noticed how a doctor seemed to be beckoning him over and went over to her, exchanging a few words with her and letting out a sigh of relief when she told him the news. “He’s going to be okay,” he repeated after the doctor, giving her a watery smile when she nodded.

“He’s a little banged up,” she told him. “He broke his leg and suffered a bit of bleeding from the head, but he doesn’t seem to have suffered anything too severe and won’t be requiring surgery. He’ll need to take it easy for the next several weeks, though, to let his leg heal. It was only a minor fracture; it shouldn’t take any longer than six or seven weeks for his leg to heal.” The doctor gave Combeferre a smile, telling him, “You’ll be able to see him soon.”

“How soon is that?” Combeferre questioned, looking back at Éponine, who was still crying in Grantaire’s arms. “His girlfriend’s in hysterics. She’ll want to see him as soon as she can.”

The doctor’s eyes followed Combeferre’s gaze and widened slightly as her mouth formed a small ‘O’ upon catching sight of Éponine’s bump. “Is she…?”

Combeferre gave the doctor a wan smile. “Yes, she is,” he confirmed softly. “It’s his baby.”

“We’ll try to get him all patched up as quickly as we can,” the doctor told him. “You’ll be able to see him in an hour or so, maybe a little over an hour, two hours at the most.”

Combeferre breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the weight being lifted off his shoulders. “Thank you so much, Doctor,” he told her gratefully, going back to lightly tap Éponine on the shoulder. She looked up, tears streaking her cheeks as her eyes found Combeferre’s.

“Enjolras is going to be okay,” he told her, his voice soft. “The doctor said he’s going to be okay. She said you’ll be able to see him in an hour or so.”

Éponine’s face lit up and she smiled through the tears, letting out a choked laugh garbled by a sob as she got to her feet to throw her arms around Combeferre, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug and nearly knocking the wind out of him. For someone so small, she was surprisingly strong, almost squeezing the breath out of him as he hugged her back. Once she had pulled back after mumbling incomprehensible words into his coat, she grinned up at him, her eyes still rather glassy as she looked around at the others, her brow furrowing in suspicion when she saw that Courfeyrac and Azelma were absent from the waiting room. Combeferre went over to them to tell them the relieving news, Éponine standing in place and stealing glances over her shoulder at the doctors speaking in hushed voices in front of the door to the room she assumed Enjolras was in. Feeling that same burst of dizziness once again, she went over to sit back down beside Grantaire, a hand resting against her bump.

“He’s okay,” she whispered to Peanut, her voice practically inaudible to anyone besides Grantaire. He stole a sideways glance at her, seeing how she let out a quiet, hysterical laugh as she rubbed her stomach, whispering, “Your daddy’s okay, Peanut. Everything’s going to be okay. Your daddy will be fine.” She let out a relieved sigh, sniffling slightly and feeling a single tear run down her cheek as she eagerly waited for when she would be able to see Enjolras again.

Two hours felt like a lifetime to Éponine, passing her time by fidgeting with anything tiny she could get her hands on and talking to Peanut under her breath, but then a doctor was approaching her with a kind smile on her face and telling her gently, “You can see him now, if you want to. He’s asleep; we expect he’ll be waking up soon.”

Éponine immediately got to her feet, following the doctor into the room they had placed Enjolras in as everyone else stared after her. Combeferre had been considering going in with her before stopping himself, thinking that she needed some space and time to be alone with Enjolras.

Éponine’s breath caught in her throat when she saw Enjolras lying asleep on the hospital bed, his lower left leg in a cast, a fairly nasty scratch on one side of his forehead partially obscured by his golden curls. Despite it all, she was thankful to see that he didn’t look like he was in pain, his face looking less lined as it usually was as he peacefully slept. A brief glance to the side showed her that the doctors had placed his coat and suit jacket on the back of a chair in the corner leaving him dressed in those stupid tailored pants of his and a white button-up shirt, his shoulder stained with the tiniest bit of blood.

Tentatively sitting down at the edge of the bed near his hip, she took his large hand in her small one, lacing her fingers through his and smiling through the tears when she felt him stir just slightly, his fingers curling around her palm as hers did the same with his, and she brought his hand to her lips to press a soft kiss to his knuckles just as his exhausted blue eyes slowly blinked open.

The first thing Enjolras saw was a teary-eyed Éponine sitting on the edge of the bed, and once he had made sense of his surroundings and concluded that he was in a hospital, he attempted to prop himself up against the headboard before he abruptly stopped, wincing at the sharp pain that went shooting through his left leg and looking down to find that his leg was in a cast. He barely remembered anything after he had been pushed out onto the street by those boys Gavroche had been fighting with, vaguely recalling Gavroche’s face above him and a car and blood on his fingers.

“You’re here” were the first words that came spilling out of his mouth as he gazed up at Éponine through clouded, mildly disoriented blue eyes, evoking a strangled, teary laugh from her. Forgetting about the pain in his leg, all he could focus on was the fact that she was here with him, and for a fleeting, wonderful moment, nothing else mattered as she pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, tears brimming in her eyes as she smiled at the sight of him awake.

“I was so scared, ’Jolras,” she murmured quietly, looking down at their intertwined hands. “I thought—I thought you were—” Her voice broke on the last word and silent tears began to stream down her face as Enjolras managed to prop himself up against the headboard, disregarding the pain in his leg. As she scooted closer to him, he reached out with his other hand to tenderly cup her jaw, softly caressing her cheek. She looked down into her lap and laughed rather hysterically to herself, thinking about how ridiculous it seemed now that she had been tearing herself up over this.

“What happened?” Enjolras asked her, his voice rather raspy. The last thing he remembered was losing consciousness when someone he assumed had been a paramedic suddenly appeared at Gavroche’s side, presumably to take him to the hospital he seemed to be in right now.

“You were in an accident,” Éponine told him softly, her thumb rubbing circles into his palm as his had done with hers so many times before. “Gavroche said you slipped on the curb and fell onto the street, and then a car hit you. He said the road must have been icy, maybe the driver slipped on a patch of ice and ended up hitting you. As you can see, you broke your leg,” she informed him, gesturing to the cast on his left leg and giggling at the mildly amused look he gave her.

Her lips curving into a soft smile that melted Enjolras’ heart, she whispered, “It’s okay now. You’re safe and alive and God, I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you.” Her voice came out strangled towards the end of her sentence and she began to silently cry again at the thought of how lost she would be if she had lost him, the man she loved, prompting Enjolras to gently stroke her cheek and quietly shush her. Cracking a smile through her tears, she murmured, “It’s my fault. I should’ve gone to pick up Gav like I usually do instead of making you do it.”

“’Ponine, it’s not your fault,” Enjolras told her, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s nobody’s fault, not really. Life just happens sometimes.” Looking down at his leg once again, he made a face and asked, “When do you think my leg will be better?”

“’Ferre told me that the doctor said it should be healed in six to eight weeks or so, maybe a bit longer than that,” Éponine replied. Managing a watery laugh, she told him playfully, “We better not find ourselves in a hospital again until it’s time for Peanut here to arrive.”

Enjolras smiled and pulled her face closer to his, his thumb tracing her jawline as their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, just the two of them alone in the hospital room. Éponine felt fire coursing through her veins as he kissed her, gentle and certain and promising that more was to come, and she shivered at the goosebumps that erupted along her skin as his lips moved against hers, parting her own lips to allow his tongue to delve deeper. She was beginning to slip away, losing herself in the kiss when they heard the creak of an opening door and abruptly broke apart, seeing that another of the doctors, a red-faced young thing, had entered the room.

“Oh!” She seemed flustered upon catching them in such a way, blushing fiercely in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I was interrupting a moment, I’ll just—I’ll show myself out now—” She hurried out the door, nearly crashing into the doorframe on her way out, and behind her, Éponine raised her free hand to her lips to stifle a giggle. Looking down at her bump, she smiled to herself as Peanut kicked once again, apparently also glad that their daddy was okay.

“You want to feel them kick?” Éponine asked softly, smiling at how Enjolras’ blue eyes lit up and he nodded, reaching out to press his hand against her bump and unable to resist a smile at the feeling of Peanut kicking. He still found it absolutely amazing that Éponine had a tiny life inside of her, a tiny human that shared his traits as well as hers, and once again he found his mind drifting off to thoughts of what their Peanut would look like.

“I hope they look like you,” he heard Éponine say, prompting him to look up. “I hope they’ll be like you.”

“No, I hope they’ll be more like you,” Enjolras contradicted gently, practically able to feel himself falling even more in love with her as she gave him a shy little dimpled smile.

“And why is that?” Éponine questioned, reaching out to boop his nose and laughing at the look on his face.

“Because you’re perfect, ’Ponine,” Enjolras replied, earnest as ever, smiling at how her olive skin turned a bright shade of red. She looked down, trying hard not to smile at his words.

“Damn, you know just how to make me blush, don’t you?” she muttered rather snarkily, looking up to grin at him and leaning in for another kiss, the world around them melting away as her lips found his. Enjolras readily kissed her back, sighing contentedly against her lips and momentarily forgetting about the fact that he had a broken leg as he kissed her, tender and loving and just grateful for the fact that she was there with him.

Once they had broken apart, he looked down and frowned at his cast, asking, “When do you think I’ll be able to leave the hospital?”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to soon,” Éponine assured him, rubbing his palm with her thumb. “You’ll probably have to use crutches for some time, though. I can only imagine how much of a nightmare that will be.” It was going to prove to be extremely difficult to navigate New York City with a pair of crutches, and Éponine hoped she would never have to go through that herself.

Enjolras winced at the thought, making a face as he looked at his cast once again before resisting the sudden urge to groan when he thought about how Courfeyrac was most definitely going to be drawing a dick on his cast with a Sharpie soon enough. He only hoped it wouldn’t be too noticeable; it certainly wouldn’t stand well with his boss. Those thoughts exiting his mind, he turned back to Éponine, simply smiling as he gazed at her with a thoughtful look in his blue eyes, his hand resting on her bump and feeling Peanut’s soft kicks.

Éponine reached down with much difficulty to unzip her boots, kicking them off to swing her legs up onto the bed as Enjolras scooted over with a curious look on his face. “‘Ponine, might I remind you that we’re in a hospital,” he reminded her quietly as she snuggled up to him, resting one hand on her stomach.

“So? I’m tired,” she replied, letting out a yawn. “It’s been a—been a crazy day. Growing a baby is exhausting, you know,” she told him, flicking him in the arm. “I just… I just want a nap…” And then she was out, snoring softly, her head against Enjolras’ shoulder. All he could do was look between her and the door before resigning himself to it, looking rather helpless by the time the doctor Combeferre had spoken to earlier came in about twenty minutes later. She furrowed her brow in bewilderment at the sight of Éponine asleep on Enjolras’ shoulder, one hand resting against her stomach and the other intertwined with Enjolras’.

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras apologised on Éponine’s behalf. “She’s just—she’s been through a lot today. She’s just tired, what with being pregnant and all…” He trailed off, rather flustered as the doctor’s eyes raked over the both of them, observing them together on the bed.

“You two will have a beautiful baby,” the doctor told him, her tone sincere as she walked over with a pair of crutches in her arms. “Do you want to get used to them before you go home?”

“I might as well,” Enjolras replied, gently nudging Éponine awake. She stirred with a soft moan of mild inconvenience, her brown eyes blinking open and her bottom lip jutting out slightly as she looked up at him with a pout. He leaned in to kiss her forehead in an attempt to make her feel more awake than she currently was, and judging by how her pout transformed into the smallest of smiles, he succeeded. Taking her chin into his hand to lift her head up so he’d be gazing into her eyes, he whispered to her, “We’ll be able to go home soon and then you can sleep all you want. I just need to get used to using those crutches first. How does that sound?”

Éponine gave a slight nod as Enjolras straightened up, looking over at the doctor standing at the edge of the bed. “Can you try to swing your legs over the edge?” she asked, patiently watching Enjolras slowly do so and await her next instructions.

She handed the pair of crutches to him, instructing him on how to properly support himself and not put weight on his broken leg as Éponine watched them, spacing out and beginning to block out sound as she simply watched them, caressing her bump while watching Enjolras hobble around the room on his crutches, attempting to get used to them. She didn’t notice how he had been calling her name for some time about ten minutes later until he went over to her and gently nudged her once again, breaking her out of her trance.

“What is it?” she mumbled, completely tuckered out.

“We’ll be able to go home soon,” he told her quietly, helping her to her feet and waiting as she pulled her boots on. “I just need to talk some things over with the doctors. Why don’t you go out to the waiting room? I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay, then.” Éponine went over to him to stand on tiptoe and press a kiss to his cheek before leaving the room, making her way back to the waiting room and feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She didn’t fail to pick up on the fact that Courfeyrac and Azelma were back in the waiting room, looking visibly dishevelled and rather red in the face as they stood at opposite ends of the room, avoiding eye contact. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing, going back to sit by Grantaire, who had drool trickling out of the corner of his mouth after he had fallen asleep. Pulling out her phone, she stared at her lockscreen for some time—she had recently changed it from that picture of her and Enjolras at the Broadhurst Theatre from last summer to a candid photo Feuilly had taken of them from merely two days ago, when all the Amis hung out in Central Park just for the sake of being together—before she decided to go through her photos, finding that she had nothing better to do as she patiently waited for Enjolras to be discharged from the hospital.

She particularly liked that picture that was now her lockscreen, the candid Feuilly had taken of her and Enjolras together, unbeknownst to the two of them—snow had been falling when Feuilly took the photograph and she and Enjolras had had snow in their hair, the powder white of the snow contrasting sharply against Éponine’s dark brown hair. The two of them had been sitting at the edge of Bethesda Fountain, Enjolras’ hand resting against Éponine’s bump, evidently feeling Peanut kick; she had been laughing at one of her own terrible puns as Enjolras gazed at her with a look that could only be described as complete adoration and unconditional love in his blue eyes, and she caught herself smiling at the memory of that day. All of them had just gotten together to unwind and have fun, to relax after a long week of work or classes, or in some cases, both.

She lost track of time as she scrolled through her photographs, which consisted mostly of candids of Enjolras that she took whenever she didn’t have the camera he had given her with her, with pictures of her and photos of their friends interspersed throughout. Soon enough, it was ten o’clock at night and Enjolras was allowed to leave after making a follow-up appointment at a fracture clinic the doctors recommended scheduled for two weeks after that day. After the doctors finally told Enjolras he could leave, all the Amis dispersed, bidding each other goodbye and going off in twos and threes, leaving Éponine and Enjolras alone on the pavement together among the crowds, standing underneath a streetlamp.

“You want some help?” she questioned softly, taking his arm and gazing up at him with a gentle smile on her face. Enjolras nodded, leaning on her slightly as she helped him walk down the pavement on their way to the subway. Not looking where he was going, he ended up colliding with a strange man who had been smoking on the street corner, nearly losing his balance and falling over, the man dropped his cigarette in surprise.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Enjolras apologised, avoiding eye contact as he and Éponine walked on, not wishing to stay out for longer than they wanted to.

The man, having caught a glimpse of Éponine’s face, stared after them with an unreadable expression, somewhat unable to believe what he just saw. Unable to get the young woman’s face out of his head, he crushed the remainders of his cigarette with the heel of his shoe before he started to walk into the crowds, dead set on following the couple to see if that young woman was who he thought she was.

A/N: seems like some trouble is brewing......

likes/reblogs/comments appreciated!!

next chapter: xxx

#kei writes #intertwined #enjonine #enjoninepride #•otp: you are my revolution•#les mis #fanfic #modern au #pregregnert verse #pls reblog

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