@doubleprogress | continued from x
She had only managed to despise her father over the years, seemingly more and more each day. As a child she had loved him, it was odd for her to recall. She could not fathom how a time ever existed when she cared for him and yet, those were very different times, long passed. She didn’t say anything more to her father when he’d released her the second time, the fake loving attitude he took only served to make her further disdainful.
“Right, you old men talk far better than I after all, I’m just as well mute.” She muttered spitefully, not noticing that he had stepped forward to mask her as she took back her money. Even with her snarky comment, she had no intention to stay but not because she had been shooed off. She much preferred to be away from her old man.
After leaving she first stopped at a bakery and bought herself some bread with the money she had stolen. After the fact she had taken to wandering around the streets of Paris as she ate for the first time in several days. She didn’t go far from the Gorbeau hovel, still deciding if she was going home that night or not she didn’t want a longer walk if she did. She also thought she would save some of the bread for Azelma if she could find a means to sneak it to her under Thénardier‘s nose.
After some time strolling, she sat down a block away from her home and with the bread in her lap, idly picked at the dirt under her nails. Perhaps her father would leave her alone if he managed to cool down, she considered. Perhaps that could be the end of it. So she sat there as she weighed her options, whether she would prefer sleeping outside or being in her father’s presence once more that day.
Unseen, a smile flickered across his face as he watched Éponine walk out the door. For some reason, he had a hard time imagining her mute. Thénardier’s assessment of her had not been baseless. She was too feisty for her own good. Gueulemer was relieved to have her out of the way. One hazard less. There was some comfort in that, even when it meant he was now alone with the main one.
It was all downhill from there. Before he knew it, Gueulemer was crushing through the streets with all the grace of a derailed train. He ground to a halt a few feet away from where Éponine was sitting, but he didn’t appear to have caught sight of her, too lost in his own head.
Something about the way he stood there, staring into space, his large frame rattled by short, choppy breaths and his huge hands shaking, made him look very small.
