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Éponine makes a point of showing up to official Les Amis meetings at least once a month. She’s starting to regret that decision when after forty-five minutes of explaining the logistics of changing traffic and zoning laws, Enjolras is still going strong.
However, Enjolras is interrupted by Marius brashly barging into the room. "Sorry! Ran into some traffic."
Éponine looks up from the napkin she’d been trying to turn to an origami crane. Marius is panting at the front of the room, a girl ducking in behind him.
Subtle blonde curls frame her gorgeous round face. Her outfit is pink and white, very ruffly and coquettish, and filled with so many odd charms and shiny baubles that Éponine can't help but stare.
Well, that might not be the only reason Éponine's staring. The girl is absolutely enticing, but she's also strangely familiar. That, and Éponine's gaydar is going off like a police siren. Bi, maybe, but probably not straight.
The whole effect has Éponine’s stomach swooping and her pupils growing to the size of her .
"And who is this?" Courfeyrac winks, pulling the girl's fingers to his lips. Her tastefully long nails are black and sparkly. Éponine wonders distantly what they taste like, resolving to ask Courf later.
"Lay off it, Courf!" Bossuet shouts from the back. "She's taken."
"Taken?" Courf’s eyebrows rise. "Have you found a fourth?"
"Not by us, idiot. Let Marius finish," Joly rolls his eyes.
"But she's always welcome," Musichetta winks.
Marius leans over to whisper something in her ear, she blushes but nods. He turns back to face them, "Guys, this is my girlfriend, Cosette,"
Éponine’s jaw almost drops open. How did Marius manage to pull such a gorgeous person?
"Welcome to Les Amis de L'ABC," Enjolras offers a charismatic smile and a handshake. His handshakes are disconcertingly firm, Éponine knows, but Cosette seems unfazed.
Cosette blushes further, a soft and lovely pink against her pale skin. “I’m honored.”
"This is Grantaire, Éponine, Bossuet, Joly, Musichetta, Jehan, Feuilly, and Combeferre," Enjolras gestures down the line. "You've already met Courf."
Bahorel coughs from the back.
"Ah, yes, sorry, that's Bahorel."
"Everybody always forgets me," He grumbles.
"We still love you!" Jehan chirps. "Promise."
"I'm Euphrasie, but please call me Cosette," She says, her heart-shaped, glossy lips pulling into a tentative smile.
Euphrasie .
Éponine’s mind is filled with the picture of a small, bony girl with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. The poor serving girl at her parents’ inn. So long ago. Neither of them were more than seven years of age at that point.
A wave of panic crashes into her. Éponine’s fear response of choice has always been to flee, to hide, anything to avoid the wrath and disappointment of others.
Éponine mutters an excuse to R and flees to her dorm, slipping out the side door of the classroom before anyone can notice or comment.
It takes twenty minutes and a set of noise canceling headphones to get ahold of the panic rising in her chest.
Even then, she can’t get Cosette out of her head. The girl is gorgeous and irresistible and thinking of her hurts like pressing on a swollen purple bruise.
…….
Later that evening, Éponine barges into Grantaire's dorm room like a character on a sitcom. As always, the door is unlocked. "R."
"Can't, sorry, I'm busy," He says. His easel is set up, paint tubes lined up in the perfect order. A printed reference image is taped to the top of the canvas. Grantaire is scrolling on his phone, so Éponine knows he has no intention to actually start working anytime soon.
"R," Éponine begs, flopping face down on his bed.
"Fine." He tosses his phone aside. "What's up?"
Éponine just groans.
"I'm gonna need a little more than that."
"It's just---ugh---you ever see someone so pretty that you just wanna rip your organs out?"
"Oh, honey, I invented self-destructive visceral longing." Grantaire gives her a long look. "If you need, I've got a bottle of cheap red in my desk drawer for emergencies."
She shakes her head. While the thought of getting obscenely drunk with R does appeal to her, she needs to sort this shit out while sober. "I have an itsy bitsy crush. On the worst possible person. That's the problem."
"Who?"
"Cosette."
Grantaire’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. "Seriously? That's what all the fuss is about? She's awesome. Girlboss. Woman in STEM. Just ask her out."
"I would, but we have...history."
"Like, one night stand? Or like, you killed her mom?"
"Closer to the latter."
R only looks remarkably blasé considering this new development. "Mmk I might need the wine for this."
"No, it's just—hrngh. You know how my parents used to own an inn before dad got, uh—"
"Sentenced to life for being a dickbag."
Éponine snorts, “Yeah. That. So anyway, Cosette used to work as a serving girl, lost her mother early on and her father was never in the picture. And they—my parents, I mean—were awful to her. Who am I kidding, all of us were awful. Me included. That’s the problem.”
“You were only about twelve when they lost the tavern, yeah?”
“She was gone way before that. She was six or seven when some guy came by and adopted her. He’s good to her, I think.”
“Six or seven?” R hums. “That’s pretty young. Nobody can be held seriously responsible for anything they do before the age of like, twelve.”
Éponine frowns. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”
“Most likely scenario: she either doesn’t remember or doesn’t care. Besides, Éponine isn’t that rare of a name. You’re probably fine to keep pining—from a respectful distance, mind you—until you can figure it out.”
“Figure out what?”
“All of it. You’ve got some figuring to do, Ep,” Grantaire paused, tapping his fingers together as he always did when deep in thought. “Also—doesn’t Cosette have a boyfriend? A boyfriend who happens to be your ex?”
“She’ll realize sooner or later that she can’t fix him.” Éponine sighs. Her relationship with Marius had been only a few months, but she had been crushing on him for years beforehand. It was just as well it hadn’t lasted long, he was kind of clueless and immature. She was only able to realize that after the thrill wore off.
R gives her a look. “And she could fix you?”
“...maybe? Worth a shot, right?”
“I hope so, Ep. I really hope so.
...
Éponine starts regularly attending Les Amis meetings. Every meeting, both Monday and Thursday, Éponine is there early and often with snacks. Enjolras is thrilled that she's so committed to the cause.
Éponine is indeed committed to a cause. That cause is showing up to watch Cosette eat fruit.
It sounds creepy. Maybe it is, just a little.
But Cosette is mesmerizing. Last week, she brought a pomegranate. She broke the thing open by digging her long, sparkling pink nails into the skin and tearing it apart. Dark red juice dripped from her fingers, her succulent lips closing around ruby pods of sweetness.
The whole time, Éponine was pathetically jealous of the pomegranate.
Watching Cosette eat an apple is a whole new experience. She bites into it with reckless abandon, taking chunks out of the flesh with sharp and precise teeth. Like an owl devouring its prey, reverent but efficient. Cosette is usually so gentle, it's like a whole different side of her is revealed through the consumption of the apple's juicy flesh.
Gods, Éponine needs a new hobby.
"What do you think, Éponine?" Éponine blinks back to the present, where Courfeyrac is looking at her expectantly. "You seem so deep in thought. Have any good ideas?"
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck she's been staring, hasn't she? Éponine panics and says the most neutral thing she can think of. "I think...uh...it's all about finding the balance, really."
Combeferre nods, impressed. "Couldn't have said it better myself."
Cosette's eyes brighten suddenly, "Starting a completely new charity event is a huge hassle and way out of our price range, right? What if we didn't have to find a venue, or arrange a date, or anything?"
"Go on."
"This might be a dumb idea, but I was thinking maybe we could partner with the university for the homecoming dance. We could work the event or arrange some entertainment, contribute in some way, and put our share of ticket proceeds towards the cause."
"That...might actually work," Enjolras smiles a rare toothy smile.
"Genius!" Bossuet cries. He throws his hands in the air in celebration.
Unfortunately, because he was leaning his chair back on two legs, this movement causes him to fall backwards, his shiny bald head rocketing towards the tile floor.
On instinct, Éponine reaches out to grab his chair. She manages to slow his fall significantly, but she's not strong enough to stop it all together, so she falls with him, their chairs hitting the floor with a clatter.
There is a moment's silence. Musichetta leans over them, concerned. "Y'all good?"
"Perfectly fine. Thanks for the help, Ep!" Bossuet grins. He leaps to his feet, then offers a hand to Éponine.
"Speak for yourself," Éponine grumbles, heaving herself upright. "I think I pulled something in my shoulder."
"Oh!" Cosette exclaims. "Can I take a look? We're working on the upper body in my anatomy class right now, and I would love to see if I can identify which muscle it is!"
"Uh...sure."
Cosette blushes. "Sorry, that's kind of a weird thing to ask. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"No, it's fine. I'd be happy to play mannequin for you." Éponine blurts.
R snorts, then tries to turn it into a cough. He only half succeeds.
"Carry on, everyone," Cosette smiles, moving to stand behind Éponine.
Éponine absorbs nothing else from the meeting after that. How could she, when Cosette is right behind her, smelling like honeycrisp apples and citrus shampoo?
Cosette lays her delicate fingers on the piece of muscle between the neck and shoulder, sending a jolt of electricity between them. "Just tell me when I hit something that hurts. I'll start light at first, ok?"
"Ok." Éponine breathes, nearly gasping when Cosette begins to trace fingers along the contours of muscle. Cosette is muttering sciency muscle names under breath that Éponine could only dream of understanding. Journalism degrees didn't exactly require knowledge of the human shoulder.
Cosette begins to massage in tiny circles, looking for any painful spots. Éponine melts. She thinks she could just sit there forever, basking in the warmth of Cosette's fingers against her neck.
Éponine winces when she hits a tender spot.
"Ah, found it, did we? Looks like the infraspinatus. Or was it the teres major? No, no, definitely infraspinatus.”
Yeah, there’s no way Éponine is ever gonna remember that, especially with Cosette’s nimble fingers still massaging the knots from her shoulders. Éponine had to be blushing by now. “Uh, thanks.”
“Thank you !” Cosette gives her a blinding smile. “I’ll make sure to give you partial credit if I ever use that in a paper or something.”
Éponine just nods, dazed. “Rad.”
Cosette squeezes her shoulder once then returns to her seat.
‘Rad?” R mouths to her.
Éponine flips him off.
….
After a few more weeks of showing up to the Les Amis meetings to put their plan for the dance in motion (and watch Cosette eat more fruit), the date of the homecoming dance arrives.
Truthfully, Éponine thought school dances were more of a grammar school thing until she learned their university still held them.
She dresses up in a short rouched black dress that glittered subtly in the flashing lights, and a pair of extra tall black knee-high platform boots.
Enjolras assigns her to selling tickets at the door. Éponine has worked in customer service almost her whole life, so she effortlessly smiles and clicks her way through the whole sweeping line.
Eventually, the line dwindles down to nothing, and the front doors officially close. Éponine still has a few hours before the dance ends and she has to help clean up, but there’s no way she’s going to shove her way into the sweaty overdressed college kid mosh pit.
She climbs the stairwell to the roof instead. However, upon pushing the door open into the cool night air, she finds that she isn’t alone.
Cosette turns, radiant in her pink chiffon babydoll dress and kitten heels. Her glittery pink lips pull up into a soft smile. “Oh! Éponine!”
Heart pounding against her ribs, Éponine goes to stand beside her. “Not really a dance person either, huh?”
Cosette makes a face, “I know it was my idea, but boy, do I hate these school sponsored events.”
“I know, right? It’s ridiculous.”
They stare out at the smoggy sky together. The stars are hidden by the city’s light pollution, but the moon is visible, and a planet that Éponine thinks might be venus or saturn.
Cosette clears her throat. “Hey, so…would you want to get coffee sometime?”
Éponine nearly stumbles right off the roof. She has to admit, Cosettehas nerves of steel. "Don't you have a boyfriend?"
"...No?"
"Oh. What happened to Marius?"
Cosette laughs. "Oh, we'd only been dating a week when he introduced me. It wasn't really working out, so we split. Mutual decision. Nice guy, but he has way too many Funko Pops in his dorm. Like, an absurd amount."
In spite of herself, Éponine laughs. She thinks Marius had been looking a little dour the past few weeks, but she had been too focused on Cosette to notice.
“So…coffee?”
Éponine’s face falls. "...I can't."
Cosette’s face arranges itself into a heartbreaking picture of concern. "That’s absolutely fine if you just don’t want to, but…is everything ok?"
"I---" Éponine swallows hard. It's now or never. She can't keep living like this. "I've hurt you."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you...remember me? From when we were kids?"
“Oh. I mean—yeah.” She shrugs. "Vaguely. It was a long time ago. I forgot you were there to be honest. What about it?"
Éponine's mouth falls open. "Seriously? I was completely complacent and you just...don't care?"
Cosette blinks again.
Now that she's started, the words don't stop. "I should've done something. I just stood there and watched as my parents hurt you, over and over again. I even---I was awful to you, too."
Cosette's brows knit in confusion. "You were just a kid,"
"How can you say that?" The tears brimming in her eyes are spilling over now. "I should've---I should've---gods, I should've---"
"Oh, Éponine," Cosette murmurs. She holds her arms out for a hug, and Éponine falls into them, clutching onto her for dear life.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
Cosette just holds her tighter. "You're the one I should be apologizing to. When papa came to get me, I left you with them."
"It wasn't your fault." Cosette pulls away, gently brushing a strand of hair away from Éponine's face. "Look at me. It wasn't your fault. We were what? Seven? I hardly remember anything from before papa took me in."
Éponine can hardly speak through the heaving sobs. "Still. I'm sorry."
"Then I forgive you. Simple as that." She says firmly, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
It takes a while before Éponine can speak. “...Sorry.”
“No worries!” Cosette chirps, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “So…how’s coffee sound?”
Éponine laughs wetly. “Even after I’ve cried all over you?”
“I’ve had my eye on you for a while.” Cosette says casually, then flushes. “Wait, no, sorry, that sounded creepy. I just, um, you’re pretty? And really cool?”
That just makes Éponine laugh harder. “Coffee sounds great. How about…right now?”
Cosette grins, “I was hoping you’d say that.”
They strolled off the rooftop together, hand in hand.