Synopsis: You cope with the loss of your father and what means.
"General LaMarque is dead." Gavroche said to the silent café.
Your world dropped out from under your feet
General LaMarque is dead.
Your father.
He was gone.
Enjolras said something to Gavroche, but you didn't hear it.
The room sprung to life around you, but you didn't feel it.
You barely felt the arm around your shoulder, leading you to the back room. Enjolras guided you to a small cot in the corner, and you obediently sat down.
Enjolras kneeled in front of you, clutching your hands in his. "What do you need from me?" He asked softly.
You didn't answer and continued to stare at the floor, focusing on holding yourself together. "Hey. Y/N." One of his hands shifted to your shoulder and the other tilted your chin up so you met his gaze. "What do you need, Y/N?" You stared him, his eyes so, so full of sympathy and love.
"I don't know." You finally whispered. Then it all came out at once. "I don't know what to do." You sobbed. Enjolras sprang into action. He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around and you and rocking you back and forth.
You didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but one thing was for certain.
You feel the master of the house's gaze wandering, but his hands stay put. At least he's that much of a gentleman.
"Nothing for you," you mutter back softly with a hint of your usual humor with him, and he pretends to clutch at the open wound that is his heart.
"Mademoiselle, your words poison me," he says in an exaggerated posh accent. "No love for the maitre de maison tonight, eh?" He wiggles his eyebrows, clutching between his legs.
"Not tonight and not for a week, you dog!" the Madame's shrill voice sounds off behind him. "Just think, you're off with your pants undone while I cook and clean--!"
"You don't bloody cook, woman!" Thenardier moans, wincing as he's pulled by the ear, "And we make the girl Cofrette clean, don't we?"
"It's Cosette, you drunk bastard!"
You watch the tall ginger get dragged off by his wife, a salacious look on his face as he winks back at you, and wonder why the man has never made a real move on you. He talks a big game, always flirting with you, always making lewd comments and bragging about how he could make you scream. Yet he never does anything about it. You'd expect a man like Thenardier to feel you up any chance he got. Instead, he always kept a curiously respectful distance. Which brings you to why you were staying at the Thenardier's Royal Inn, of all places.
Due to unfortunate circumstances, you had fallen on hard times. Not much different than anyone else on this side of town, but at least you were still living, mostly hygienic and not chronically ill. You like to thank god for that every night, if god hasn't abandoned you for women with more coins in their purse. Needless to say, you had ended up dining at the local inn every night with what little money you had left. Their prices suited your poverty, so it was a good arrangement.
Ignoring the boorish man's comments, you sit down at your regular table at the back and order a slice of the regular shepherd's pie.
After finishing, you look out the grimy window into the night. Unfortunately, all the inn's rooms are filled with inebriates and hard working whores tonight, so you would have to sleep elsewhere. Gathering what little things you have, you give a small smile to the Monsieur, who is watching you leave with a funny sort of look on his face. Strangely sober.
Shrugging it off, you head outside to find yourself a place to sleep.
You feel hands on your back. As you turn around quickly, the hands slide downward, to grab at your ass. You try to scream, but threadbare gloves that smell of the sewer stifle your open mouth. You manage to muster up the willpower to bite through the disgusting garments, and get a quick shout of, "Help!" out before you feel a kick to the back of your knee.
You stumble to the cobble street, the slime of the day's dirt and rain staining the last of your pride. The hands are on you again, searching. They finally reach your coin purse, and stand up to make off with it. You try to grab him, and there's a struggle. It all ends with the sound of cracking, and the thief is on the ground.
You look up from your knees to see Thenardier himself, shaking his fist and swearing under his breath at the pain. He finally remembers what he's there to do, and offers you his hand. You look up into earnest brown eyes-- nothing like the ones he had shown you before while flirting with you. You take his hand, expecting him to lay the charm on thick now. Something for something; everything has got a little price. As you envision all the sticky kisses he would be sucking your knuckles with in a moment, you almost wish he hadn't saved you from being robbed.
Suddenly, your hand is free. Thenardier has turned around, head down. "You're alright then, yeah?" he mutters. You frown. Is he bashful about all this?
"Yes," you whisper.
"Right," he nods, shuffling off back inside.
"Wait!" you run after him, and he tenses when you put a hand on his arm. You slowly realize that him helping you up from your undignified position on the ground was the first time he had touched you. All the times he had acted like a pig, propositioned you, been overtly unfaithful in intentions toward you... what did it mean? He turns back around, a gentle, almost melancholy smile on his lips.
"Sometimes the song and dance is better than the man, yeah?" he mutters, fixing his hat back atop his head. "Everybody loves the landlord."
"And what about the man?" you ask. He straightens his ratty coat out and flashes a sleazy smile.
"The man don't get the bread, love." He pauses. "Wait a tick." He walks over to the unconscious thief's body, and plucks something from his coat. It's your coin purse. He pockets it, and you clear your throat.
"Monsieur?"
"Wha?" he asks, turning on his heel. You open the palm of your hand.
"You're forgetting something. That belongs to me." He gives a dopey smile, apology in his eyes.
"Right, right. Sorry, love. Sorry." He plops it in your hand, and takes your hand between his, shaking the purse. "Sounds to me like you have enough to stay the night with us."
"But you don't have any r--"
He gestures to the man on the ground. "Shush shush. One just opened." A smile grows on your lips, and the so called scum of Paris takes your hand, leading you back inside.
A/N: image found on google. female reader. pretty proud of this one. angst. definitely angst. but fluff at the end.
Living in 19th century France on the less privileged side of town was quite exciting if you asked me. You never knew what was going to happen around the corner (both literally and figuratively). Especially since there was this phenomenon that let you find your soulmate.
You see, this phenomenon made you see the world in black and white until you found your soulmate. And when you meet your soulmate, your world is turned from a plain black, white, and gray world into one full of colors. One of the first things to turn color is your soulmate's eyes. Those are the first things for you to see in color. Call me a cliché sap, but I find it romantic. I've also heard you would see streaks of color here and there if your soulmate was close.
I haven't quite found my soulmate yet, and I was slightly worried, but not exactly obsessed with finding them. They'd come in their own time. Besides, I was helping run a revolution, so who needs another distraction?
Although, as time went on and more and more people around me found their soulmates, I began to feel a bit lonely. Sure, it was great seeing so many people find happiness, especially during a time like this. It's not as much as before the revolution, but there were those few that found love still.
I sighed as I pushed myself off of the wall I was leaning on and made my way to the Café Musain; they had asked me to keep an eye out for suspicious things during their meeting which was starting shortly.
I ran the rest of my way there, arriving just as they were ushering the last few people in and shutting the doors behind them. I nodded an acknowledgement to the person at the door, and just as I was going to my post, I saw a streak of color blur past behind the door, but before I could say or do anything, the doors were shut and I huffed in annoyance. I'd have to find the source after the meeting.
Red.
I didn't know how the color name suddenly popped into my head, but it did, and I was slightly surprised. I wrapped my arms around myself as I leaned casually against the wall of my post, which just so happened to be at the window of where the meeting was.
Black.
There it was again! Another streak of color in my line of sight from the side of the window. I couldn't help but smile at my excitement. At the exact same moment, I heard a melodious voice sing out.
Red, I feel my soul on fire
I looked inside to see what was happening and saw Marius Pontmercy standing as he sang out to everyone assembled in the room.
Black, my world if she's not there.
As I scanned the room, I suddenly locked eyes with a man with a loosened black tie--the very same black I saw as I leaned against the Musain's wall--and it was as if my world had suddenly stopped. He stared back at me with just as much surprise, and if I'm not mistaken, a small smirk appeared on his face. Everything in sight began filling up with color, the dull black and white becoming vibrant shades of color. Even the black and white things became slightly more lively.
As suddenly as it happened, he looked away and joined in on singing. I stood still, shocked and still not believing I had found my soulmate as the singing continued in the Musain. And the fact that my soulmate was the leader himself, Enjolras. Enjolras, of all people!
Red, the color of desire.
I shook my thoughts from my head and focused on finding Enjolras's eyes in the crowd, instantly finding him arguing with Marius. He seemed so confident, not even affected by finding me in the slightest.
Black, the color of despair.
I tried to imagine what his reaction would be when we finally would talk. Would be be ecstatic? Would he be charming? Would he be calm and collected? Probably a mix of all of those, plus more.
The rest of the night was a blur, passing by quickly. I tried to find a chance to say something to Enjolras, but he was too busy talking with everyone else. I shrugged it off and hopped down from my post, making my way back to my run down excuse of a home.
"Hey!" an urgent voice called behind me. "Wait!"
I turned around, and saw Enjolras running towards me like his life depended on it. I stopped and waited for him to catch up and catch his breath, moments of awkward silence passing between us as I waited for him.
When he had caught his breath again, he offered me another grin, this one filled with amusement and some excitement. "Where are you headed, Mademoiselle..." he hesitated, asking for my name.
"(Y/N)." I supplied. "I'm headed back to my home for the night. Or what you could call a sad excuse of one." I shrugged.
Enjolras offered me his arm. "Would you like to spend the night at my place instead?"
"I don't see why not." I replied with a grin of my own as I linked my arm through his. "Lead the way, Monsieur."
~~~
Soldiers everywhere.
Blood everywhere.
Death everywhere.
I ran through the streets to the Café Musain, ragged breathing stinging my throat. I pushed my already tired legs harder; my friends needed me. Enjolras hadn't sent word or any form of anything to me, and I was getting worried. He should have been safe with everything by now. He should have taken care of the soldiers already.
But alas, dead soldiers and revolutionaries alike littered the streets. I ignored the stench and the sights, focusing on making my way to Enjolras and Les Amis.
My wish was fulfilled, but not as I had hoped.
Just as I arrived at the front of the Café Musain, a gunshot rang out and Enjolras fell out of the window, his body hanging halfway out, limp and void of life. A red flag was clutched in his hand. Tears immediately pricked my eyes, and I let out the most blood-curdling shriek I had ever heard from myself in my life.
"NO! ENJOLRAS! NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!" I screamed at Enjolras. I shook my head as I ran towards the café's entrance, wiping away tears and trying to calm my sobbing, trying to run faster, trying to make my way to Enjolras as he lay dead. My world already seemed to be growing duller in color, the vibrant colors slowly slipping away and turning back into black and white. The last color that danced in my vision before turning back into a shade of gray was the first color that I saw when I first found my soulmate: red.
I never even made it inside the building, as a soldier poked his gun out from the window and another gunshot was heard. I felt a sharp pang of pain in my abdomen and gasped. I stood for a moment, an expression of shock on my face, before falling to the ground. My shocked expression transformed into one of a peaceful and calm smile as I lay dying on the cobblestone street, my blood pooling around me.
"I'll see you soon, my love." I whispered with the last of my strength as my vision began growing darker and darker. "I'm coming home to you."
~~~
When I opened my eyes, I was standing just behind a large barricade of furniture stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions. I saw others I recognized standing at the top, others that had died while fighting bravely. What really was confusing was how the world was back in lively hues, reds and blues and blacks and browns and all sorts of colors.
"(Y/N)! Are you coming or not?" a familiar voice called down.
My head whipped in the direction of the sound, and tears pricked my eyes as I saw who had spoken: Enjolras, my love.
I nodded and smiled through the tears, climbing up as fast as I could and wrapping my arms around him as soon as I could. I sobbed into his shoulder, holding him as tight as I dared, afraid of letting him go again. He held me back firmly but gently, whispering soothing words into my ear.
"Shhh, shhh, shhh." he soothed. "It's okay, (Y/N). I'm here now. It's okay." he repeated over and over again until I had calmed down considerably.
When I pulled away from the embrace, my hands moved from behind his neck to caress his face, as if I was afraid he was an illusion.
"Am I dreaming?" I finally mustered out, my voice hoarse.
Enjolras chuckled as his hands cupped my face and his thumbs wiped my tears away. "No, I'm here. I'm really here, (Y/N)."
I stared at him for a moment longer before finally pulling him down for a kiss. Oh, how sweet it was to kiss him again.
When we pulled away, we were beaming. I turned to face the other side of the barricade, and Enjolras took the chance to press a kiss to the top of my head as the others began singing softly.
Do you hear the people sing?
Lost in the valley of the night
It is the music of a people
Who are climbing to the light
"I love you. So much." he whispered in my ear.
I leaned my head against his shoulder. "And I, you."
Description: Enjolras walks you home because you said he wasn’t a gentleman. Then he offends you and you get salty. [Very closely based off of ‘A Lovely Night’ from La La Land.]
Author’s Note: If you see something like this posted on Wattpad with the author saltydalty07, that’s just me, not some plagiarizer-person. I hope you enjoy it, this is my first (and probably only one for a while) Les Miserables one shot!
It was a wonderful and productive Wednesday night. As usual, the meetings on Wednesdays ended earlier than usual due to the fact that some of the revolutionaries had 7 AM classes the day after. And by some of the revolutionaries, that mostly included their leader. Although his country comes first before everything, he needed to be well educated before he can even begin to save the people of France.
Everyone had left leaving you and Enjolras. He was still getting his papers together while you were already cleaning up the empty chairs and empty tables.
Grantaire had left only a few minutes prior. Of course, you forced him to go before he had too much to drink because like hell are you going to take care of his drunken ass while you clean up.
“Hey, can you pass me that last cup over there?” you ask. He took the glass and passed it over to you, his eyes still scanning his pieces of paper before stuffing them into his bag.
You smiled. “You know,” you start, keeping your eyes on the table you’re wiping. “Sometimes I forget how much of a gentleman you really are.
Most of the people that’re left here when I clean up don’t even have the courtesy or respect to avoid spilling their drinks on the floor. Of course, most of them are drunk but still. I won’t lie, sometimes I find you annoying because you seem to put all these revolution plans above everything, but it’s tiny moments like these that–” You looked up from your table and realized he’d left. You felt insulted. You were complimenting him, he could have at least stayed to hear it all!
You opened the door and looked down the street, seeing him walking. “Hey!” you yell. He turns around, a look of slight annoyance on his face.
“You were rambling,” was all he managed to say as if it were a good enough excuse for his rudeness.
“Can’t you be a gentleman for once and–!” You stopped, your face melting into a half-smile that read ‘I should’ve seen that coming.’ This was so typical of him. You were also a bit ashamed with yourself. He does one nice thing but that doesn’t mean he’s a gentleman. He’d probably be the type to pull a chair out for a girl and forget to push it back in for her. You groaned. What were you expecting from Mister 'my country is my mistress?’ “Never mind.”
Annoyed and curious all the same, he stopped and turned around to prove your unfinished statement wrong. “Finish up quickly. You’re lucky your apartment is in the same direction.” He’d be lying if he meant that the direction of your apartment was the only reason he was offering to walk you at all.
You rolled your eyes and threw your apron on the rack before locking up the doors and running to catch up to him.
As you two walked, there was an awkward silence. Although you were glad he was walking you, it didn’t stop you from being petty and salty as fuck.
Enjolras looked at the sky. It was filled with different shades of blue and purple. Like you two had just missed a sunset but were just in time to see its beauty fade away slowly.
“The sky seems quite exquisite today, doesn’t it?” He asked, staring at the canvas above him.
In your mind, you saw two options: (1) You could agree with him and start a healthy conversation or (2) continue being petty as fuck and say nothing. Obviously, you chose the latter.
He chuckled. “What’s so funny?” you ask, a bit annoyed and self-cautious.
“Nothing, really. It’s just that this sunset reminds me of the sunsets you only ever get to read about. The types that don’t even seem real.”
You stared at him skeptically, waiting for him to explain. “You know the ones. Where you miss the sun almost completely, except for that small glimpse you catch just before it disappears entirely. Then it becomes dark enough to see the silhouettes of the buildings in the far distance, but not dark enough for the street lights to turn on. Or maybe even the small yet distinct line of silver that stretches all the way to the sea.” His eyes were glued to the colors in the sky as it slowly yet gracefully faded from golden yellow, to raging red, to a softer and calmer purple before finally settling on the cool and breezy dark blue it was.
You had to admit that he was rightーthe view was amazing. “I don’t see your point.”
“It’s almost as if the sky had been tailor made just for two people to stumble upon ー much like you and I had. Of course, if that were the case, then it’d just be a shame.”
You raised a brow. “And why is that?” you asked, stretching the first word a little slowly.
“Because,” he started. “Indisputably, had any other pair stumbled across this same very sky we stand under, they would have loved it. Romanced under it, maybe even.” He sighed. “Yet, out of the thousands of people and the millions of combinations that exist, regrettably the universe chose us.”
“And what exactly is wrong with 'us?’”
He turned to look at you, an amused half-smile on his face. “Because we, (Your Name), have no shot at anything together. None at all.”
You stopped, scoffing with a half amused and half insulted smirk. “Really now?”
“Oh don’t be so surprised, you’re not even my type.” He said, keeping his eyes on the road he was walking. “There’s no spark and that’s that.”
You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time tonight. “Well, then I guess it is a waste. The beautiful sky, I mean.” You two continued walking in a somewhat comfortable silence but the same uncomfortable feeling kept echoing in the recesses of your mind—He ended that conversation. Who does he think he is? It’s not like you want to be his type anyway.
After the silence, you couldn’t help it. Maybe you didn’t want to leave something unsaid, maybe you were just petty, but next thing you knew you were saying, “Well, just to, you know, clear things up, it’s not like I would have wanted to be your type anyway.”
He seemed to have been a bit offended by your statement based on his facial expression. “What? I’m just saying. You’re going on and on about how nothing can happen between us anyway, I just want to make it clear that I wouldn’t like someone like you either.”
He stopped to scoff and look at you like you were a rare gorilla in a zoo— amused yet unamused at the same time. You realized how that sounded. “I mean, I’m not saying you’re not attractive— you do look quite dashing in your little golden xylophone getup,”
“It’s a coat,” he corrected.
“I’m just saying that I wouldn’t be interested in someone as… passionate? As you?” You said, as if asking if passionate was the right word and hoping he wouldn’t get too offended (Of course, a pettier side of you still hoped he would to some degree.)
“But yeah, you’re right, we’d never work anyway. I’d never fall for you at all.” You grin mischievously as you walk away.
“Maybe your whole blond-with-blue-eyes look can charm most of the other girls–particularly other girls who don’t work at bars–but not me. In fact, I’m frankly feeling nothing,” He smiled and caught up to you.
“Is that so?” he asked, a bit insulted yet even more intrigued with the conversation.
“Actually, now that you point it out,” you said, putting on a fake look of contemplation. “It might be less than nothing.” You joke.
He chuckled a little. “Well, I’m glad you agree. What a waste.” He smirked at her.
“That’s right. What. A. Waste.” You say, smiling back at him.
The rest of the walk had been quiet— but a comfortable quiet. You walked closer to him, enjoying the view. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you looked at him surprised, (you weren’t sure if you were imagining it, but you could have sworn his cheeks seemed pinker) but he continued to keep watching the road. You didn’t mind.
After maybe a handful of minutes, you both arrived at the bottom of your apartment. You thanked him for walking you and before you entered the building, he stopped you to ask. “(Your Name), a little question before I leave,”
