She deeply felt awful, her bag was weighing down her bones as she dragged her feet through the dusty pavements. The rain had numbed her lips and her hands shook with sorrow. The night was silent; the city was in a suspended state of existence from the thunderous storm. She wished to be held, in a way that she could not hear the evil demons of the world malignantly reproaching her. Alas, it could not zealously be. For she was Eponine Thenardier, happiness did not belong to her. A heavy body shoved against her accidently, as she was emotionally drained; Eponine violently plunged against the wall without a fight. Her shoulder cracked as she impacted the stony wall. A hand urgently reached out ...view middle of the document...
“Apologies Madame, but I cannot allow that to happen. You will freeze! Take shelter at our home until the morning light, you can rest.” His eyes dropped to the full duffel bag hoisted over her shoulder. From his exposure to hardship of a criminal, he was pursuing escape. Her bag was far too loaded to be visiting relatives. “We will not tell anyone where you are…”
Eponine shook her head in dismay; she knew her lie would crumble. Monsieur Valjean was as perceptive as his daughter. She intensely desired to protest his offer so badly, but the sensation of a roasting fire and warm welcomes made her scarlet heart yearn. Her skin had begun to turn blue as they mightily stood in the pattering rain; her fight for survival overwhelmed her judgement. Succumbing, she gestured onwards.
“Lead the way, Monsieur.”
Marius threw the door open in the manner of a mad man, he barged into the sullen room with a panicked expression. The numerous voicemails full of Enjolras’ angry, assertive voice had pulled him through the Melancholy metropolis in urgency. Something was deeply wrong; it was a rare case to behold Enjolras so frenzied with his crimson heart’s desires.
“I’m here, what’s wrong?!” He glanced around the room in worry, Enjolras was a mess. His shirt was ruffled, his tie was loose around his neck; sweat has beaded across his brow with his blond curls unruly. Combeferre was calm; however his luminous eyes betrayed him. Under the faux-optimistic cobalt, was an anxious emerald? Courfeyrac unquestionably could not stay stationary, every second he would resume a new position. His energy that was usually wasted on rapture was now being employed for worry. The second Enjolras beheld his friend; his hand was wrapped around his collar in an instant.
“If you were Eponine and you were in distress, where would you go?” His voice booming voice ricocheted throughout the building, Marius’ voice was caught in his throat at the sight of his ferocity. There was something new and alive in Enjolras’ eyes, he had seen that look himself. In himself when he beheld himself in the mirror after gazing at Cosette for the inaugural time. It was the look of love. “Answer me!” He pleaded in desperation.
“Um-somewhere to hide-“Marius spluttered in surprise. “She would go somewhere that was special to her, but somewhere she would think no-one knew about. Except, Enjolras…as close as I was to Eponine; she would never tell me that.” He frowned in sympathy as the hope in Enjolras’ eyes began to die. Not all would be lost, Marius would make certain. “Don’t lose hope, Enjolras. I will contact to Cosette, she may know something.”
“’May’ is not good enough, Marius!” Enjolras cried out in fear. Combeferre stood immediately as Enjolras began to lose hold of his self-control, his free fist curled into a tight clench. The resist to assault something was overwhelming, for a man who favoured peace; Enjolras zealously became victim to violence when pushed to his limit. “I’m fine, Combeferre.” He...