Lights, Camera, Passion!
A/N: so here it is—some enjonine fanfic shit, just as requested by @eatallthefries97!! i actually really, really love how this turned out, so i hope y’all love it too! this turned out to be way longer than i expected, lol
forgive any inaccuracies that may be present in this little one-shot of mine.
pls send in more prompts/requests; i’m too chicken to post any of my writing without someone prompting me to do so first.
shitty title is by yours truly—if you have any better alternatives, pls hmu
based off this prompt by @otpisms
i’ll stop blabbering now and let you guys get to the real fic. mindless fluff and lots of mutual pining await you.
“And… action!”
Éponine took a deep breath in as she walked on set, ready to recite her lines and just throw herself into the making of the film, telling herself, You can do this.
She just had to film a kissing scene with none other than Gabriel Alexandre Enjolras. That’s all. No biggie.
At least, it shouldn’t be a biggie. She had done countless kissing scenes with loads of other actors and actresses! (Yes, she had fallen for a few of her co-stars in the process, most infamously with a lovely redheaded actress who broke her heart and whom she never heard from again once the hype for the film they were in together died down, but that was beside the point.) This shouldn’t be such a big deal!
And yet it was. The director/HBIC, Musichetta, constantly praised how Éponine and Enjolras’s onscreen chemistry was “through the roof”—Musichetta’s exact words. What Musichetta didn’t know, though, was that Éponine had defied her better judgment and gone and developed feelings towards Enjolras, resulting in lots of seemingly one-sided pining.
It fucking sucked.
At first, Éponine had been set on keeping her relationship with Enjolras strictly professional, telling herself repeatedly that they were only going to be acting together as love interests and nothing else. Besides, he had seemed rather uptight and aloof when Éponine first met him and learned that they were going to be playing love interests, which she had been none too thrilled about due to his cold attitude.
But then there was the plot twist, as she liked to call it.
They began to warm up towards each other, conversing behind the scenes and sharing moments together, and Éponine soon discovered that Enjolras wasn’t quite the standoffish, frigid person he appeared to be in public. No, Enjolras opened up to her, and as they continued to grow closer, she found out that she was one of the few people he had ever opened up to and truly bonded with. About four months into filming, light-hearted conversations behind the scenes turned into deep talks over lunches and dinners together. The next thing she knew, she was falling for him, and as a result, those longing, adoring gazes she threw his way while filming their scenes together were no longer staged.
How nobody had noticed at this point was beyond Éponine.
Musichetta cleared her throat loudly from her chair. “Hello? Éponine? Did you hear me?” After a few more moments in which Éponine remained lost in her thoughts, Musichetta grumbled and yelled, “Cut!”
Wow. They hadn’t even started doing the scene yet.
Nearby, Enjolras stood rather nervously, rocking back and forth on his feet as he gazed at Éponine, who finally snapped out of it as she was approached by a five-foot-two ball of rage, otherwise known as Musichetta.
“Éponine! Are you listening to me?” Musichetta waved her hands frantically in the brunette’s face, successfully gaining her attention. Éponine flinched, her brown eyes finding Musichetta’s.
“Yes?” The tone in which Éponine said it seemed to change Musichetta’s entire attitude, and the petite but fierce director immediately went from exasperated to concerned.
“Are you okay?” Musichetta asked, placing her hands on each of Éponine’s shoulders. “You seem a bit off today.”
Éponine looked over Musichetta’s shoulder to steal a glance at Enjolras. They locked eyes for about a second before Enjolras blushed and looked away, running his fingers through his golden curls out of nerves.
She turned back to Musichetta, saying quietly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Just… I need some time to prepare myself.”
“Ah.” Musichetta patted Éponine’s shoulder in understanding, turning around and practically skipping back to her director’s chair.
“You need a drink?” Éponine heard a familiar voice offer. She turned to see Grantaire, one of her best friends since forever and art director.
She turned back to glance at Enjolras, who seemed to be gazing directly at her—although she could be wrong—and replied, “I’m good.”
I can’t do this.
Enjolras paced back and forth, wondering how he was going to get through this kissing scene. He’s done countless other kissing scenes for countless other films and TV shows, and he never thought much of them. He never felt any particular connection to those co-stars he had done kissing scenes with; he hadn’t known them very well. But with Éponine, it felt different somehow. More intimate. More… meaningful.
When Éponine stopped halfway through the beginning of the scene they were supposed to film, Enjolras had instinctively tensed up as well, and they stood there frozen, not knowing what to do, for several long, painful minutes before Musichetta yelled “CUT!”
Éponine seemed to have told Musichetta that she needed some time to prepare herself for the filming of the scene, and now they were taking a short break as Éponine got herself together. Enjolras continued to pace back and forth, wondering how this one was going to turn out.
Quite frankly, Enjolras was still surprised that nobody had noticed his obvious pining for Éponine.
Musichetta was constantly singing praises about how fantastic his onscreen chemistry with Éponine was, seeming quite oblivious to the fact that Enjolras was clearly head over heels in love with his co-star.
Seriously, how had nobody noticed? Those fond, yearning looks Enjolras gave Éponine—both during the filming of their scenes and off-set—were just too good to have been feigned. The film crew and the supporting cast seemed to write it off as excellent acting instead, which Enjolras supposed was a compliment, but still. Were they just that clueless?
Then again, Enjolras wasn’t known for romantic relationships—or any relationships at all, for that matter. At twenty-eight, he had never been in a long-term relationship—and in love—which was something the media constantly buzzed about, much to his disdain. He didn’t want his close relationships with people to be something that would make the front page of those silly gossip magazines, which was why he was particularly uptight and closed off in public, choosing to keep his personal life private. His aloof attitude towards nosy gossip columnists and annoying paparazzi had earned him quite a reputation, but he didn’t give a shit.
But that was besides the point.
He stole a tender glance at Éponine, watching as she did one of those breathing exercises he had taught her. It was astounding how so much had changed over the course of several months.
Enjolras hadn’t expected to find himself in a close friendship with Éponine, thinking at first that their relationship would stay strictly professional like it did with all of his former co-stars. He hadn’t expected to have little chats with her here and there between takes, which soon turned into longer conversations during breaks, which in turn became long talks about everything and nothing as they had dinner together. He hadn’t expected that more often than not, they would end up visiting each other’s trailers just to chat and watch Netflix together, and somehow, they always ended up falling asleep together on the couch, enshrouded by a thick blanket from the neck down.
Most of all, he hadn’t expected to fall in love with her.
He had feared that this would happen if he got too close to any of his co-stars, which was why he had always kept his guard up around them. Éponine had managed to break through his walls and get him to open up to her, and in turn, she had opened up to him, telling him things she had never told anyone else before. They formed a close bond, and soon, they became one another’s go-to person to talk to about deep shit.
But then there was the threat of a lack of reciprocation.
Enjolras seemed to have gotten it into his head that his feelings were purely one-sided, and whenever Éponine gave him those hopeful, affectionate looks, he would convince himself that it was just his mind playing tricks on him and that it was his own fault for falling in love in the first place.
All the thoughts that had been racing through his mind were soon extinguished by Musichetta shouting out, “Well, Éponine seems to have gotten her shit together! How about we try again?”
Enjolras turned and caught Éponine’s eye, visibly gulping when he met those familiar warm, brown eyes. Oh, fuck.
“I just—” Enjolras let out a soft sigh, staring down at his shoes as he faced Éponine, in the midst of filming their big kissing scene. “What happened?”
Éponine bit her lip, fully in character and yet not at the same time, blinking a few times and averting her eyes. Enjolras, also in character—but also not—caught on and asked tenderly, his voice even softer now, “Hey. Are you okay?”
Éponine, as scripted, looked up, an uncertain look in her eyes. It really was remarkable how good of an actress she was.
“I—” she paused, looking down again before glancing up abruptly, meeting Enjolras’s blue eyes. “I don’t know.”
She began to back away when Enjolras grabbed her wrist gently. “I’ve been really worried about you lately,” he told her, a look of utter concern and slight fear in his eyes. “You haven’t been…” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “You haven’t been yourself lately. Really, are you okay?”
Éponine looked up again, her eyes flicking to his lips momentarily. Then, just as scripted, she grabbed his face, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
The first thing she perceived was how soft his lips were, and how good they felt against hers. The second was taste—he tasted of spearmint and chocolate, an odd combination that somehow seemed to work for her. The third was how utterly right it felt to be kissing him, to be in such close proximity to him, and she could feel herself losing herself in the kiss, growing increasingly unaware of her surroundings as she focused on his lips on hers.
Enjolras had known that this was going to happen, but even so, his eyes widened instinctively at the feeling of her lips on his, and after standing there frozen for a few fleeting moments, he returned the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and pulling her closer. Her hands moved to the back of his neck, one gently grasping the nape of his neck and the other moving up into his golden hair, tangling her fingers in his curls.
After a few moments in which they remained locked in a chaste kiss, they broke apart for air, Éponine’s hand immediately moving to caress his face, her thumb tracing his lips. Those very lips that she just kissed.
“I—” Enjolras’s voice was hoarse as he recited his lines. Whether or not the hoarseness in his voice was intentional or not, Éponine didn’t know. “Seriously, are you okay?”
Éponine merely giggled—not scripted—and pulled him back into the kiss, this one even more intense than the previous one. She let out a surprised moan when she felt his teeth dig into her bottom lip, and the next thing they knew, their tongues were in each other’s mouths, kissing each other with abandon, Enjolras dipping Éponine slightly. She grabbed at his curls as his hand slid down to grab her ass, evoking a squeak of pleasant surprise from her, and they didn’t hear Musichetta’s repeated shouts of “CUT!” until she grabbed a megaphone and yelled it out, deafening everyone in the studio.
“CUT!” she screeched, finally getting Éponine and Enjolras’s attention. They broke apart, their faces flushed red, to glance at her. She gave them a round of dry applause, saying, “Great passion, guys. Let’s just remind you this is supposed to be G-rated, so…”
Éponine and Enjolras blushed furiously at the reminder, avoiding eye contact with each other. “Sorry, Chetta,” Éponine mumbled, her cheeks burning.
“Let’s try that again, shall we?” Éponine and Enjolras nodded hastily in agreement, walking off-set to grab a drink before the second take. Grantaire approached Éponine with a glass of water and a knowing smirk on his face.
“You got a little carried away there, didn’t you?” he teased, not even flinching when she gave him one of her famous death glares.
“Fuck off,” she told him bitingly, taking the glass of water from him and chugging it all in one gulp. “Let’s see you try to do what I do for a living.”
Grantaire shrugged it off and walked away, whistling, just as Éponine and Enjolras walked back on set. Musichetta shouted again, “And… action!”
Éponine faced Enjolras, waiting patiently for him to begin.
“I just—” He sighed yet again, staring at his shoes. “What happened?”
She let out a slight sigh of frustration, prompting him to ask softly, “Hey. Are you okay?”
Éponine bit her lip and looked up again before quickly averting her eyes. She had to mentally stop herself from looking at his lips, immediately failing as her eyes flicked to his lips. “I—” A pause. She looked back up at him. “I don’t know.”
Backing away. Enjolras grabbing her wrist and looking her in the eye. He hoped she didn’t notice how he stole a quick glance at her lips before mentally berating himself for doing so. “I’ve been really worried about you lately,” he told her, concern in his blue eyes. “You haven’t been…” Another pause. “You haven’t been yourself lately. Really, are you okay?”
Éponine looked up at him, gazing into his eyes for a brief moment before grabbing his face and pulling him into another chaste kiss.
After acting as if he was just processing everything, Enjolras wrapped his arms around her, returning the kiss and letting out a soft, delighted sigh as he kissed her passionately, feeling her fingers thread through his hair. She pulled away for air, gazing into his blue eyes, her breathing shallow.
“I—” Okay, so he seemed to be going with this hoarse–voice thing. She could work with that. (She found it pretty hot, actually.) “Seriously, are you okay?”
Éponine giggled again and pulled him back into the kiss, making sure to not be so forceful this time. After remaining locked in a passionate embrace for several long, beautiful moments, they heard Musichetta yell, “CUT!”
They broke apart yet again, looking Musichetta’s way.
“Better,” she praised, applauding them far more sincerely this time. “Seriously, I can’t get over the chemistry between you two. Can we try that again?”
Twenty-seven takes later, they finally got it right.
Musichetta was bored out of her mind in her seat, watching the same scene play out over and over again as she instructed Éponine and Enjolras about what to do and what not to do. After finally nailing the scene, Musichetta yelled, “That’s it for today, everyone! I’ll see you all tomorrow!”
Éponine laughed to herself as Musichetta stumbled out of the studio, incredibly tired after a long day of filming the same goddamn scene over and over again. The brunette jumped slightly when she felt someone tap her shoulder, whirling around to find Enjolras standing there.
“Up for some Netflix?” he offered, a hopeful smile lighting up his face.
Jesus fuck, he had such an adorable smile.
“Sure, let’s go.” Éponine took his hand, her heartbeat quickening as her hand slipped into his, blissfully unaware of how Enjolras seemed to stop breathing momentarily when he felt her take his hand in hers. As they began to walk off, she stopped for a moment to ask, “Your trailer or mine?”
Enjolras shrugged, not particularly caring about whose trailer they went to. “You choose.”
She gave him a dry, amused look and began to pull him in the direction of his trailer under the excuse “Yours is better than mine, so we’re going there.”
Ten minutes later, the pair were curled up under a thick, woollen blanket, balancing an enormous bowl of popcorn between them as they started their third episode of Doctor Who. Over the course of their previous two episodes, they found themselves gravitating towards each other, and now Éponine’s head was tucked between his head and shoulder as they snuggled up to each other in comfortable silence, munching on handfuls of popcorn. Éponine was quite oblivious to the long, yearning sideways glances Enjolras stole at her, and in turn, he seemed to be heedless of her quick, longing glances at him. The both of them were left thinking their love was unrequited, which disheartened them greatly, but nevertheless, it was comforting to know that at least they were friends. Really good friends. One might even say best friends.
Éponine curled up into him and let out a long sigh of fatigue, exhausted after their long day of filming. Twenty-seven goddamn takes! She wasn’t exactly complaining about getting to kiss Enjolras twenty-seven times, but still!
“Hey, ’Ponine?” he whispered all of a sudden, prompting her to glance up at him.
“Yes, ’Jolras?” she replied tentatively, grabbing another handful of popcorn and shoving it into her mouth.
He thought about his response for a little while before saying, “No, never mind. It’s not important.”
“If you say so.” She took a kernel of popcorn and flicked it at him, laughing at the look on his face.
Oh, that laugh was music to his ears.
He impulsively pressed a kiss to her forehead, making her freeze in shock. She glanced up at him, whispering incredulously, “What was that for?”
“’Ponine, I—” He stopped short, not ready to say it out loud. He didn’t even know if she returned his feelings, for fuck’s sake!
Éponine raised an eyebrow. “Well, don’t leave it there.”
“No, never mind.” Once again, he found himself chickening out, distracting himself with a handful of popcorn as he avoided her gaze.
They sat there together in silence for quite a while, choosing to focus instead on Doctor Who while occasionally sneaking glances at each other, never at the same time. After some time, Enjolras worked up the courage to ask, “So, how do you feel? About all this?”
Éponine glanced up at him and bit her lip, thinking. “Exhausted. I’m so tired.”
She let out an enormous yawn and snuggled closer to Enjolras, wrapping the blanket tightly around them as she absent-mindedly pressed a kiss to his cheek, making his heart skip a few beats. “I—’Jolras, I—”
After yawning once more, she fell asleep before she could finish her sentence, using Enjolras’s shoulder as her pillow.
His breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of her soft, steady breathing and the sound of her gentle snores. His hand went up to his face, feeling the spot where she just drowsily kissed him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead yet again, whispering almost inaudibly, “’Ponine, I…”
He pressed yet another kiss to her forehead, comforted by the sound of her steady breathing, whispering, “I love you.”
Éponine sat in silence and tried not to fidget as her makeup team went about applying makeup to the brunette’s face while her close friend Cosette sat beside her, chattering nineteen to the dozen, already red-carpet ready. The blonde was a childhood friend of Éponine’s and one of Éponine’s co-stars. “Are you excited?” the blonde questioned as Éponine’s hairstylist twisted Éponine’s dark brown locks into a fancy updo, leaving a couple of artfully arranged strands of hair loose to frame her face. “I can’t wait! Have you seen the film yet?”
“No, not yet,” Éponine replied, biting her lip. She absolutely refused to see the final cut before the premiere, wishing for it to be a surprise. She had always liked surprises. The good kind, of course.
“I have!” Cosette chirped, smiling to herself rather knowingly. Éponine narrowed her eyes, rather suspicious of the mischievous look in Cosette’s blue eyes, but thought nothing of it as she let the makeup team do their work.
She stared at herself in the mirror, the heat emanating from the lightbulbs on the frame making her face grow warm. She looked completely unlike herself.
Once the makeup team had finished, one of the makeup artists—a kind young woman with violet hair—took Éponine’s dress off the hanger and held it up. “Do you want to put it on?” she offered, holding it out for Éponine.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Éponine got up, taking her robe off so the woman could help her into the dress. “Ah, fuck!”
Once the purple-haired lady had helped Éponine into the gown, Cosette stood beside the brunette as Éponine stared at herself in the mirror, disbelief registered on her face. “Oh, look at you,” the blonde said, beaming as she observed Éponine and herself in the mirror. “You’re a knockout.”
Éponine stared at herself in the mirror, absolutely speechless. This couldn’t be real.
She was dressed in an absolutely gorgeous, off-the-shoulder scarlet mermaid gown, complete with long lace sleeves. A pair of simple ruby earrings had been clipped onto her ears to match her dress. Underneath her gown, she wore crimson kitten heels which were, much to her surprise, rather comfortable compared to the other heels she had worn to various other premieres. It was nothing too elaborate.
It was perfect.
“Oh, Eppy!” Cosette was now bouncing up and down, causing the skirt of her gown to bounce along with her. “You’re going to knock everyone out with your presence. I just know it.”
“Oh, shush,” Éponine chided, rolling her eyes in amusement at Cosette’s words.
Cosette, on the other hand, had been all dressed up in a strapless baby-blue ball gown, complemented by a diamond choker and earrings and that gorgeous princess-cut engagement ring of hers, with matching blue heels underneath her dress. The blonde had insisted on wearing the charm bracelet her fiancé Marius Pontmercy, a well-known film producer, had given her when they first started dating. Unlike Éponine, Cosette’s hair was down, her curly blonde locks tumbling down her shoulders and framing her heart-shaped face.
“Oh, you look so beautiful,” Cosette sighed, hugging Éponine to her. “Do you have a date?”
Éponine shook her head, pouting slightly in the mirror as she twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger. “No. ’Jolras doesn’t have a date, either. I figured we’d just go together.”
Cosette didn’t fail to note how Éponine’s tone took a considerably happier turn at the mention of Enjolras, and the blonde smiled to herself, seemingly the only one besides Grantaire to have noticed how Éponine and Enjolras were hopelessly pining for each other, each oblivious to the other’s affections.
God, for famous actors, they really could be idiots sometimes.
They were supposed to meet with the rest of the main cast soon to board the limos that were going to take them to the venue of the premiere. Try as she might, Éponine couldn’t help but wonder how Enjolras was going to look.
Cosette noticed the contemplative look on Éponine’s face and enquired lightly, “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” Éponine replied a bit too hastily, only further fanning the flames of Cosette’s suspicions. The blonde grinned when she realised what Éponine was trying to cover up.
“You’re thinking about Enjolras, aren’t you?” the blonde teased, jabbing a well–manicured finger at Éponine’s chest. The scarlet blush that rose to Éponine’s cheeks at Cosette’s words only confirmed her suspicions. “You are!”
“No, I’m not!” Éponine shot back overly defensively, scowling at Cosette. “Come on, we don’t have time to talk about this shit! We have to go meet the others.”
“If you say so,” Cosette replied, a teasing edge to her voice. Éponine rolled her eyes and grabbed Cosette’s wrist, dragging her out of the dressing room to go meet the others where the limos were parked.
Once Éponine caught sight of Enjolras, her breath caught in her throat.
He looked very dapper in his tuxedo, complete with a scarlet bow tie that was the exact same colour as Éponine’s gown. She could feel her heart begin to race in her chest as she noticed all the little things—how his golden curls were left untouched, how that tailor of his had made an excellent decision in making those pants tight in the rear so the world could be graced with the sight of his godly ass, how he rocked back on forth on his feet in a fit of nerves, how his entire face lit up when he laid eyes on Éponine…
She brushed off that last one, firmly believing that it was merely her mind playing tricks on her as she approached him. “Hey,” she whispered, a smile gracing her lips.
Enjolras gave her a smile, breathing in reply, “Hey.”
Enjolras was acutely aware of how his stomach started doing somersaults and how he stopped breathing for a fleeting moment when he set eyes on Éponine. The first coherent thought that came to mind was God, she looks beautiful.
It was all he could do to keep his mouth from falling open at the mere sight of her when he saw her and Cosette approach them. He tried desperately to keep his cool, to not give away the fact that he was utterly enchanted by her despite having been pretty obvious about his affections towards her on set. Then again, back on set, he could have gotten away with it under the guise of it being for the film. Now, there were no good excuses he could come up with to hide the fact that he was very obviously making eyes at her.
She approached him, her cherry lips curving into a somewhat shy smile as she murmured, “Hey.”
“Hey,” he breathed, trying to be discreet in observing her. “You—you look beautiful.”
She looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes as colour bloomed in her cheeks, a dimpled smile on her face. “You look quite handsome yourself,” she replied softly, her brown eyes meeting his blue.
Enjolras’s heart began to race as he offered his arm to Éponine. “Shall we?”
She laughed and took his arm, her hand in the crook of his elbow. “We shall.”
As they boarded the limousine, she questioned, “Have you seen the final cut yet?”
“No,” Enjolras replied, shaking his head. “Why?”
“I haven’t either,” she admitted, biting her lip and smiling, mostly to herself. “We can see it for the first time together.”
Enjolras struggled to compose himself as they sat together in the limousine, unnecessarily close to each other. On the red carpet, he had to keep himself calm and indifferent—his reputation and, more importantly, his privacy depended on it. If he even showed the slightest hint of having feelings towards Éponine, he knew that their faces would be plastered all over the covers of the next several issues of various gossip magazines.
The car ride was uneventful as the limousines made their way to the venue, which was to be a massive cinema with lots of A-list celebrity guests both Éponine and Enjolras didn’t particularly wish to associate with. Éponine found them too affected and stuck-up; Enjolras didn’t have time to waste on airheaded celebrities who seemed to think they were better than everyone else. They’d have to grin and bear it for this one night though—this movie premiere was to be heavily publicised, and they had to be on their best behaviour for the cameras.
Across from them, Cosette and Marius were being disgustingly adorable together, holding hands and giggling about nonsense every five seconds and just making it clear that they were together and very in love. Éponine and Enjolras envied the reciprocation of affection between them, wishing they had what Cosette and her darling fiancé Marius had. Éponine didn’t quite notice the longing sideways glances Enjolras snuck at her, and he was entirely oblivious to her quick, affectionate looks.
Soon enough, the limousines pulled up to the red carpet, and before they knew it, Éponine and Enjolras were soon blinded by the flashing lights of cameras as they put on their best red carpet–worthy smiles, waving elegantly to the crowds of screaming fans and photographers.
They didn’t fail to note how the photographers focused especially on them as they walked down the red carpet arm in arm, Marius and Cosette close behind them. The fans seemed to pick up on the fact that Éponine and Enjolras seemed to be attending the premiere together, and the volume of screaming increased as they whipped out their phones to take amateur photographs of them. Éponine and Enjolras remained calm and collected, frozen smiles on their faces as they posed for the cameras, unaware of the fact that they looked very much like a couple. They were about to make their way into the theatre before Musichetta approached them, all dressed up and looking very fine in her gorgeous imperial purple one-shoulder column dress.
“Hi!” she greeted them breathlessly, absolutely exhilarated. “You two look amazing!”
“Thanks, Chetta,” Éponine replied, a genuine smile gracing her cherry-red lips. “You look pretty gorgeous yourself.”
Musichetta actually turned pink, which somewhat amused Éponine. “Thanks,” Musichetta mumbled, a smile on her glossy lips. “So, are you two excited?”
Enjolras shrugged, smiling at the small director. “Well, we’ll be seeing the film for the first time tonight, so yes.”
“We can’t wait to see how it turned out,” Éponine chimed in, a pretty laugh escaping her lips. Enjolras turned slightly pink at Éponine’s usage of the word ‘we’ instead of simply ‘I’. “I bet it’ll be fantastic.”
Musichetta grinned at them both as if she knew something they didn’t. It didn’t bother neither Éponine nor Enjolras in the slightest, but they couldn’t help wondering what Musichetta was trying to imply with that grin. “Well, I’ll see you around,” the smaller woman told them, turning around to link arms with two good–looking men Enjolras was friends with. “Great chemistry,” Musichetta murmured to herself, her lips curving into a secretive smile as she headed into the theatre with her dates.
Once Musichetta had disappeared from view, Enjolras turned to Éponine to offer her his arm yet again. “Will you please do me the favour of accompanying me into the theatre, Mademoiselle?” he requested mock-formally, evoking a laugh from Éponine.
“As a matter of fact, I will, Monsieur,” she replied, playing along as she took his arm.
Oh, how Enjolras wished he could kiss her hand instead.
The pair entered the enormous theatre, finding their seats and settling down beside each other, waiting patiently for the film to begin. Oh, they couldn’t wait to find out what the final cut actually consisted of.
Ten minutes later, a hush fell over the theatre as the film began to play.
Éponine and Enjolras had not been expecting to see what they saw.
They were glad for the dark hiding their deep red blushes of embarrassment from view, for the film, which was mostly comprised of scenes involving them due to them being the two main stars, consisted nearly entirely of them having eye sex. The way he looked at her, the way she looked at him, the intensely passionate way they kissed each other… it was all too good to be faked. They hoped people would simply write it off as brilliant acting instead of suspecting something going on between them—that would destroy any privacy they currently have.
Enjolras was too busy trying not to hide his face in his hands at the sight of him engaging in eye sex with Éponine on an enormous screen to notice Éponine’s hand slipping into his. Once he realised that their fingers were intertwined, he felt his cheeks burn as he struggled to steady his breathing. Almost too eagerly, he squeezed Éponine’s hand, feeling warmth spread throughout his fingers from the mere feeling of her hand in his. He resisted the urge to bring her hand to his lips to press kisses all over the back of his hand, opting for rubbing circles into her palm instead. He could just hear her tiny contented laugh beside him as he gently rubbed circles into the palm of her hand, his heart soaring at the deliriously happy feeling he got from making her smile.
Éponine felt goosebumps erupt along her skin as she felt Enjolras squeeze her hand once again while continuing to rub circles into her palm. She absolutely loved how perfectly her hand seemed to fit in his, and she considered kissing the back of his hand before deciding against it, thinking that it would be too risky. She simply contented herself with the oddly fulfilling feeling of his hand in hers.
Their hands were still clasped tight once the film ended.
“Should we skip the after-party?” were the first words that came out of Éponine’s mouth once she and Enjolras exited the theatre together, arm in arm once again.
Enjolras stopped in his tracks, surprised at such an offer. He had never particularly liked after-parties, but he could never find anyone willing to ditch with him, so he was forced to endure them. “Do you think we should?” he replied, an uncertain edge to his voice. He was all for ditching; he just needed to make sure Éponine was being serious.
“Yes,” Éponine confirmed without hesitation, a wicked grin breaking out on her face as took his hand, tugging him along to the limo waiting for them. “Come on—if we hurry, they won’t come looking for us.”
They hurried along to the limousine, trying to keep themselves on the down low, unable to keep themselves from laughing madly once they were secure in the limo, on the way back to Enjolras’s penthouse. Éponine doubled over in laughter, nearly crying in mirth. “God, I can’t believe nobody noticed us!” she exclaimed breathlessly in between laughs as the limo rolled out of the parking lot and into the streets, which were strangely empty that night. “I’m never going to another after-party again as long as you’re there.”
“You do realise Musichetta’s going to kill us, right?” Enjolras reminded her, an amused smile playing at his lips.
Éponine brushed it off, making a face and rolling her eyes, laughing. “A small price to pay for not attending what’s bound to be an awkward, painful after-party. Besides, we can get champagne at your place. No need to interact with stuffy celebrities.”
“Good point.” Enjolras leaned back in his seat, letting out a long sigh. “That was… something, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it was,” Éponine murmured in reply, sliding down in her seat and turning her head to look at Enjolras. “Hey, ’Jolras?”
“Yes, ’Ponine?” he replied absent-mindedly, twiddling his thumbs.
Éponine hesitated for a brief moment before asking, “How do you feel about Marius and Cosette’s engagement?”
Enjolras stopped twiddling his thumbs and turned his head so they would be looking into each other’s eyes. “I’m happy for them. Why?”
Éponine shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I wish I had what they have.”
“Love?” Enjolras prompted.
Éponine smiled drily at him. “Reciprocated love,” she corrected him, reaching out to pat his chest. “I just—I don’t know. It feels like most love is unrequited these days. I don’t know why I even bothered with all the ‘falling in love’ bullshit.”
She was trying to be subtle. She really was.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll find the one for you one day, ’Ponine,” Enjolras reassured her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach at the assumption that he wasn’t the one she was supposedly in love with.
She sighed and gave him a somewhat woeful smile, asking, “Have you ever been in love, ’Jolras?”
Enjolras was rather caught off guard by her question, falling silent for a moment. “Well, only once.” After another brief pause, he decided to risk her finding out by adding, “Actually, I’m still in love right now.”
Éponine’s red lips formed a small ‘O’, an eyebrow raised as she pressed, “Oh? With whom?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he responded a bit too abruptly for her liking, leaving her to wonder who it could possibly be as she tried to overlook the fact that it felt like all the butterflies in her stomach had just died. They spent the rest of the car ride in awkward silence, unable to come up with more words to say to each other.
Later, they found themselves in Enjolras’s enormous living room, sitting on one of his plush couches, still all dressed up and still sitting in painful silence. Éponine had taken her hair out of its updo, taking several minutes to do so, picking all of the hairpins out of her hair one by one, occasionally cursing when one got stuck in her dark chocolate locks. After a while, Enjolras decided to break the silence by murmuring, “So.”
“So,” Éponine echoed, staring straight ahead.
“’Ponine, are you angry at me?” Enjolras asked in concern, scooting closer to her.
“No, no, ’Jolras, I’m fine,” she replied hurriedly, surprisingly unconvincing for an award-winning actress.
“No, ’Ponine, you’re not,” he persisted, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Please just tell me, ’Ponine. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
He was completely willing to put aside any heartbreak he may endure for the sake of Éponine’s happiness. He had decided that a long time ago.
She merely avoided eye contact, looking down at her hands in her lap and biting her lip. “It’s nothing, ’Jolras. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
“Everything is not fine,” Enjolras contradicted, a little more insistent this time. When she jumped slightly at his tone, he immediately retracted, his voice going soft. “’Ponine, please. You know you can trust me. Right?”
She let out a breathy sigh, looking up to gaze into his eyes. Her eyes flicked to his lips for a millisecond, and she bit her lip. In an instant, she was taking his face into her hands, pressing a forceful kiss to his lips.
Enjolras’s blue eyes widened in shock, unable to process what was happening as his brain short-circuited. The next thing he knew, he was kissing her back equally forcefully, wrapping his arms tight around her waist and pulling her flush against him on the couch as she tangled her fingers in his golden curls. The force of the kiss gradually became gentler as Éponine memorised the feeling of Enjolras’s lips on his and vice versa. When she pulled away, she opened her brown eyes tentatively to find that Enjolras was unable to open his eyes for a few moments, trying to fully process what just happened.
“’Ponine,” he murmured hoarsely, his blue eyes fluttering open to gaze into her brown. “What was that?”
“It’s you, ’Jolras,” she confessed, caressing his cheek. “I—I’m in love with you.”
“Kiss me,” he requested, his voice low and husky and rather unintentionally seductive. Éponine obliged.
She pulled him back into another chaste kiss, her hands still cupping his face as he gently pressed his hands into her waist, pulling her closer to him. Everything around them fell away, and the only thing he could focus on was the feeling of her soft lips on his. After several long moments in which they remained kissing each other fervently, she pulled away, her thumb tracing his lips as she gazed at him, her eyes flicking to his lips every so often.
“’Ponine, I’m in love with you,” he told her quietly, the smile on his face growing bigger by the second. She laughed softly and leaned in, resting her forehead against his, her eyes half closed as she took it all in.
Is this what it feels like to have your love reciprocated? Éponine wondered, butterflies exploding in her stomach.
Enjolras leaned up to meet her lips in another gentle kiss, murmuring against her lips, “I love you.”
Oh, she had longed to hear those words from him for such a long time now.
She readily kissed him back, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling his face closer to hers. The only thing that mattered to them was each other, how his lips moved against hers, how raw and real and right it felt. She could feel how he smiled into the kiss, and she laughed quietly once again, her lips curving into a smile against his lips as she whispered into the kiss:
“I love you.”
they definitely had sex after that. just sayin.
so? good? bad? ugly???
if you liked this, pls like and/or reblog (preferably both) because i crave that sweet, sweet Validation™
keep prompting me! i need to work on this kind of shit and i need a distraction from school!!
also, should i post this on ao3 or nah??
