Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserablés.

All You Need Is Love

"Is there anybody going to listen to my story

All about the girl who came to stay

She's the kind of girl you want so much it makes you sorry

Still you don't regret a single day

Oh girl…"

(Girl, The Beatles)

Chapter I

"Monsieur Marius". She stood behind the door with her head poked in. "Are you busy?"

Marius turned around to face the brunette, now standing at the floor with her hands twisting in her lap timidly. The morning light shone at her, creating a golden halo in her brown locks, usually greasy and dull from the dirt.

"Éponine! No not at all. Please come in." He waved her in. "In fact, I am in desperate need of company."

"Is that so?" Éponine grinned, her face shone like a child, having been given its favorite toy. How beautiful he is, she thought. How kind he is to me. "What have you been up to Monsieur? Are you still pretending to your friends that you're poor?" She picked up a book from his bookshelf. Finding herself a comfortable spot, Éponine sat down and leaned against the wall.

Reading at Marius's place had recently been her new escapism. Tired of wandering on the streets doing papa's dirty little jobs, Éponine found a safe haven in the pages and in Marius's apartment, beside the man she loves. Even when he's not around, being in the same space he lived in, breathing the air he breathed every day gave Éponine a pure happiness she had never experienced since her family descended into poverty. When he was around, the mere presence of him lifted her off the ground, off the dull, petty misery that was her life.

" 'Ponine, why do you say such things? I'm not pretending." Her heart skipped a beat hearing the nickname. To him it probably meant nothing. To her it was everything. It marked their friendship, their intimacy. From him, it sounded so special, so endearing. Marius chuckled. "I am poor."

"Monsieur, I do not understand why you're doing this to yourself. I know your grandpa is sinfully rich." She looked at him playfully and smirked. "Just write him a letter explaining your situation. I'm sure he will take care of it nicely."

"My grandpa and I unfortunately haven't been getting along as marvelously as one might expect." Marius sighed as he reached down and pulled out a gun from a chest. "Besides, it is simply against my conscience. How could I live with myself, spending the money I have not earned while speaking of equality on the streets?"

"You are too noble Monsieur." She watched him admiringly while he jotted down on the paper. "I like the way you talk."

"Now now 'Ponine, you are teasing me again. Let's not talk about this. What are you reading?"

Éponine held up the cover of the book she was holding. "It's Aeschylus. The play Agamemnon."

"Were you not reading The Iliad yesterday, 'Ponine?"

"Oh I finished it after you left Monsieur. I couldn't put it down."

Marius nodded approvingly. Happy that she had somehow proved herself to Marius, Éponine returned to the book, buried her nose in the pages. The two shared a moment of comfortable quietness, him writing, her reading. There was no need for chatting or small talk. Such superficial interactions were needless when two people were as intimate as they were. Or at least Éponine would like to think so.

Fifteen minutes later, their quiet air between them was disrupted by a stern voice coming from the door. "Marius for heaven's sake! What are you still doing here? Did you forget what I told you yesterday?!"

Éponine looked up at the source of interruption. She recognized him right away. It's the blonde young man, the one who was always giving speeches on the streets of Paris, pretty words of liberty and equality, sometimes with Marius by his side. Éponine had never seen him smile or even remotely relaxed. It's as though he was always carrying the world on his shoulder.

"No I have not Enjolras. But isn't it a bit early though?"

"It is never too early for Patria." Enjolras exclaimed. "Now it's when Paris is the busiest. We will attract the most attention if we speak now. Make haste Pontmercy."

Only then did Enjolras's focus shifted from Marius to the small figure leaning against the wall. Her huge brown eyes stared into his curiously. Marius followed his gaze to see a confused Éponine.

"Oh how inconsiderate of me, to not introduce the two of you." Marius clapped his hands together. "Enjolras, this is Éponine Jondrette. She lives next door to me. Éponine, this is my dear friend Enjolras."

Éponine rose up from the corner to shake the hand of the handsome young man. Too handsome for his own good, she thought. Even more so than Marius, not that it mattered to her.

"Mademoiselle, it is a pleasure to meet you." He nodded.

"Please Monsieur Enjolras, you should not call me mademoiselle." She smiled sadly. "I'm no mademoiselle."

Éponine could feel his blue eyes sweeping on her tattered petticoat and worn out chemise, her dirty untamed hair – now without the sunlight, had returned to its original pathetic state – her shoulder blades and elbows poking out awkwardly. She suddenly became very self-conscious and tried to shrink herself as much as possible. Éponine is uncomfortable with the glance of the young revolutionist. How little must his opinion of me be, she thought. Even if he did not condemn me, his pity wouldn't do me any good.

"Mademoiselle, you're just another citizen of Paris, no better or worse than anyone. However, as much as I'd like to stay and chit chat." He lifted his chin. "We must go now. We have wasted enough time."

"I see. Don't let me bother you two anymore." Éponine retreated back into her corner. Enjolras shot a puzzled look at Marius. Éponine noticed, she could tell from a sneaky glance but she ignored anyway. Sure thing, Enjolras must have been wondering what was this young girl doing all alone in Marius's apartment. Nobody understood the specialness of their relationship, she scoffed silently.

"Don't worry about her." She heard Marius whispering to his friend. "She's always here reading Homer and ancient Greek tragics. Poor girl cannot afford a book."

Yes it is true. But more than that Monsieur Marius, I want to be with you, don't you understand?

At last, the two gentlemen left. She heard their footsteps becoming more and more quiet until she could not make out the sound anymore. Éponine held the book to her chest, breathing in the air around her. She had 6 more hours to read. 6 more precious hours to be here before she had to return to the living hell, the madhouse that she called home. Father and Maman must be waiting for her reports on potential locations they can rob and steal from. She would have to make up some false report about how she searched high and low for something worthwhile in those houses but did not succeed. Given the costs of living nowadays, her story should not be that difficult to believe in, she hoped. Éponine hoped Montparnasse wouldn't be visiting tonight. She had been trying so hard to be clean for Marius. Sweet, pure Marius who knew nothing of her criminal, raggedy life. She absolutely did not want to taint Marius's apartment.

If only he knew, she sighed.