A/N: Hello there! Yes I am writing an Enjonine fanfic, and this is my first so please cut me some slack! I whole-heartedly accept reviews and constructive criticism, as it does make me a better writer which is what I am really striving to be.

In case you all didn't know, this fic is set in the 1920s, so I will be using some slang that they used back then because why not? If I use a phrase you aren't familiar with, visit this site since I'm getting all of the terms from here: local . aaca bntc / slang / slang . htm

Without further ado, here is my Enjonine fanfic!

"Oh, Éponine, you're a doll!" Marius exclaimed, pulling the dark-haired girl in for a hug. Éponine grinned, hugging him back while her heart skipped several beats. He pulled away fairly quickly, to Éponine's disappointment, as he was distracted by the fact that she had found the whereabouts of the love of his life. Her heart deflated a little at that thought, but she tried to be happy for Marius. After all, if he was happy, she was happy. And the smile on his face was simply beautiful, and it made Éponine feel all fluttery and giddy inside, despite the circumstances.

"Well, I know these streets better than the back of my hand." Éponine smiled, shrugging as Marius pulled on his jacket, adjusting the cuffs once it was on.

"Shall we take my breezer?" Marius asked, looking as if he was about to jump off walls if he didn't meet his beloved soon.

"No, monsieur, I believe you'll be better suited for walking; besides, her home is only a few blocks away." Éponine responded, adjusting her cloche hat. Marius nodded, and almost ran out the door, completely forgetting to hold it open like he normally would for Éponine. She felt a little hurt at that, since he had been the only man in her life to have done such a gentlemanly thing for her in the past. 'He's simply distracted. Once he meets this girl, he'll figure it was all just the result of a crush, and completely forget about her!' Éponine kept reminding herself as she trailed behind the lovesick fool, who kept on ranting and raving about how excited he was to meet this blonde lark, how his life was going to finally begin once he met her, how he had never felt such a way in his life ever before. She furrowed her eyebrows, and stopped Marius, looking at him with a somewhat serious but mostly curious look. "Monsieur, are you sure you aren't just stuck on?"

Marius gaped at her as if she had just insisted that he should jump off a bridge after he danced in a tutu. "Stuck on? This is much more than a mere crush, dear Éponine," Her heart fluttered when he said 'dear', "This is pure love! I feel as if I can run around the world twice! No, three times! I would run as many times as she commanded! Oh, Éponine, if only you could feel what I felt, you would understand!" She winced at that; if only he knew that she was feeling exactly what he felt at this moment. His smile was plastered on his face again as he leapt onto the base of a street light pole, gripping it and spinning around like a bimbo.

"Get down, you goof!" Éponine laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling him down, smiling widely as he stumbled a bit from the dizziness. When they rounded a corner, Éponine pointed ahead to a fanciful gate with flowers and vines curling around the edges. "There it is." She nodded, and Marius seemed to completely forget who she was or that she was even there as he walked forward as if stalking a deer. In a moment, a beautiful blonde girl appeared at the gate, and their eyes were locked in each other's gazes, and they looked so happy and wonder-filled, that Éponine felt a stab in her heart. Marius never looked at her like that, not ever.

As the whole exchange unfolded in front of Éponine's eyes, she set her jaw, trying hard not to cry since the love of her life was confessing his love for someone else right in front of her. She looked down; her heart felt as if someone had their hand wrapped tightly around it, her stomach had dropped to her knees, her head felt all fuzzy and compact like it was full of cotton. Closing her eyes, the dark-haired girl kept telling herself that he was never hers to lose, that she never had a chance anyways, that she was stupid for even bringing him here in the first place, and how could she be so stupid?

She bit her lip, and turned away quickly before she interrupted their exchange with an unintentional sob or squeak or something. Before she knew what was going on, Marius was walking away, and when Éponine looked back to the gate, the blonde girl was gone. She furrowed her eyebrows at that, and jumped when a hand clamped over her shoulder. Éponine whirled around, and gritted her teeth when she saw it was her father behind her.

"What do you want?!" She hissed, so not in the mood to deal with her father and his gang of hoodlums after witnessing her love confess his love to another.

"Calm down, baby, we're just gonna rob this place and then we're gone." Montparnasse piped up, winking at Éponine with a sly grin. She narrowed her eyes and stumbled when her father pushed her aside, approaching the gate.

"Stop, you can't do this!" She exclaimed; if this girl made Marius happy, she wouldn't allow her father to hurt her and in turn cause Marius hurt. When they ignored her, she gritted her teeth and attempted to look as tough as she could. "I'm gonna scream! I'm gonna warn them you're here!"

"You do that, I'll make you scream for a whole year!" Thénardier snarled, although there was a twinge of panic in his eyes. Éponine didn't back down; she wasn't going to allow her father to hurt anyone while she could help it. She pulled back, but then jerked her head forward as she spat in her father's face. He hissed, and smacked his daughter, causing a ripe bruise to start forming on her cheek; but not before she screamed to warn the inhabitants of the house of Marius' love.

When Éponine looked back to the house after recovering for a moment from her father's smack, she realized that they were gone; leaving Éponine alone once again. "Swell." She muttered, deciding to ignore her emotions about the past few minutes; it was always easier that way. Sighing, she ended up going in search of a juice-joint in the hopes of drowning her feelings out, at least for tonight.

"Take a look at that sheba over there, Enjolras!" Grantaire slurred, leaning against his friend for support at the bar. "Ya know, it's times like these I wish I had your good looks." He stated with an affirmative nod and a pat on Enjolras' cheek.

Enjolras swiveled his head away from his friend's hand, rolling his eyes. "There are more important things than looking at pretty girls in speakeasies, Grantaire." He said with a twinge of irritation.

"That may be," Grantaire responded, holding back a belch, "but sometimes even you, mon ami, have to distract yourself from the greater purpose and simply get some." He grinned, taking another swig of whatever alcohol he was drinking before Enjolras gingerly pulled it out of his friend's grasp.

"I can't afford to be distracted. You know this, mon ami." He said. Meanwhile, Grantaire was lazily scanning the bar in front of them, littered with men and women in a cloud of smoke and suits and flapper dresses. Eventually, his eyes landed on a brunette sitting alone with a cloche hat, holding a piece of parchment in her hand. Pointing at the girl, Grantaire turned to Enjolras with a sly grin.

"Tell you what, mon ami. If you manage to get a kiss from that girl just over there, I won't drink for a week!" He proposed.

Enjolras smiled sarcastically for a moment before going back to his marble, stoic expression and shook his head. "No. You can't last two hours without a drink, let alone a whole week. And besides, she doesn't look to be in the mood of talking." He said, his eyes landing on the brunette girl in question. Her eyes were droopy, and her hands were gripping the piece of paper with a somewhat ferocity, almost as if she was being forced to hold it. Enjolras felt a pang of pity for the girl; he wasn't entirely sure why, as he needn't concern himself with the most likely petty problems of her. Still, he couldn't help but wonder, what was causing this girl to look so down? Grantaire let out a mighty groan/sigh, snapping Enjolras out of his trance.

"Ughhhhh, you are such a bore. Ya know, people say you're all wet, the bee's knees, the cat's pajamas!" He exclaimed, making grand hand gestures. "But in reality, you are nothing but a baby who cannot even talk to a dame, let alone buy her a drink!"

Enjolras furrowed his eyebrows. Although Grantaire's words meant absolutely nothing to him since he was drunk, he still found his friend to be rather annoying when he got to be the critical-type of drunk. "Alright, I think you've had enough to drink. Let's get ready to leave, Grantaire."

As she sat on her barstool, Éponine stared at the letter in her hands. The envelope had the prettiest writing she had ever seen, with the prettiest name written on it: Marius. She furrowed her eyebrows, turning the letter over in her hands. 'To read, or not to read?' She mused to herself in hopes of lifting her spirits. Speaking of spirits…

She took a final swig of her drink, making a face as the burning liquid went down. Éponine predicted a slight hangover in her future, but she didn't much care, seeing as this letter most likely ensured Marius and Cosette's love. Oh, Cosette. She remembered the blonde lark from long ago, when her parents owned a bar and sold alcohol up the wazoo, along with running an inn above their bar. But ever since prohibition, their parents were out of the job and left Éponine and her family penniless. Thénardier was now the leader of a mafia, and she and her sister were constantly pushed into whatever plans they needed to pull off; whether it be a robbery or a killing—Éponine wished she had more drink to drown out her memories—she and Azelma were always there to aid her father and his gang in cheating innocent people. She had no idea that two men a few feet away were talking about her, one of them egging the other on to kiss her or at least buy her a drink. If she did know, Éponine would smile to herself and insist that it was only a joke, that these men didn't really think she was pretty. The one man she wanted to think she was pretty was slipping through her fingers, probably already lost, and it stabbed in her heart like a thorn every time the thought reappeared inside her head. The alcohol dulled this pain, but now that her drink was gone, her emotions were beginning to get the better of her.

Éponine looked down, folding her hands in her lap as she fought back tears. After a moment, the clink of a glass in front of her alerted the young girl. She pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes, and smiled as politely as she could to the bartender.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't order another drink." She said, but the bartender nodded in the direction of the door.

"You didn't need to, miss, that blonde man paid for it." He answered, and Éponine spun around. Indeed, there was a man with golden curly hair exiting with a dark-haired man who seemed to be intoxicated. She smiled a small genuine smile for a moment, just as the man looked back. He gave her a tiny smile as well, just a small hint of a smile, but it somehow sent a warm fuzzy feeling to her gut; a feeling that wasn't the result of alcohol.