𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐜𝐫𝐲 [ 𝘫. 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘴 ]

5, un match de foot

tw: attempted SA, ptsd

disclaimer: canon vergoux is a nice boy and nothing like described here!!

On Thursday, Voltaire Lycée held their annual student-teacher football game. After classes, everyone gathered around the football field equipped with umbrellas against the heavy rain. According to Laubrac, the teachers had won four years in a row with Mr. Herman as referee, so this year Mr. Bellanger will replace him. If the students won, that means they would get a student lounge. If the teachers won... Eponine couldn't remember, she'd already zoned out before Laubrac got to that part.

"Michéle! Simone! I'm over here!" Eponine called out from the sidelines. The two girls happily marched over. "Hey, Nine! You're staying to watch too?" Simone asked. "Yes I am, can't miss out on tradition, can I?" she laughed.

The boys on the sidelines started chanting. "Stu-dent Lounge! Stu-dent Lounge!" But it turned into booing when Madame Couret entered the field. Her bright smile never dimmed. The eleven girls started cheering so loudly that their voices overpowered the boos, which made Madame Couret motion hearts to them with her hands.

After the game started, Eponine noticed that Simone was acting weird. She was barely watching the game. After some investigation, she noticed that Simone and Jean-Pierre kept ogling each other. Yuck. Relationships. They had to be in a relationship, no one looks at a friend like that. Eponine would've been stupid if she hadn't realised their glances were those of two people in love.

With only two minutes left on the clock, the score was tied. Madame Couret had tripped over one of the students, which gained them a penalty. They scored, and the students cheered loudly. Everyone was soaked to the bone, but the feeling of being together and having fun kept them warm.

On the other side of the field sat Descamps, flanked by Dupin and Vergoux. He spotted her watching across the field, and sent her a wink. Or a blink. But taking note of how his nose scrunched up, it was a wink, Eponine was certain. She smiled back, and avoided looking back. 'Perhaps he's still looking,' she thought, or hoped, heart racing. Partially because of the building tension, partially because it was the last minute of the game.

She gave in to the tension, and took a gander back at him. Time felt like it had stopped.

'Shit, he's still looking.' A sly grin made its way onto his face, as if he knew exactly what she felt. She raised a brow. Beside them, the students groaned in disappointment, but they didn't seem to notice.

"Nine? Nine! What are you looking at—" Simone stilled when she saw Descamps smirk back at her. "Oh. Well, if that's what you're into." she sighed.

"What!?" Eponine was flabbergasted. She was not into Descamps. "Whatever you're thinking, get it out of your head right now!" she exclaimed. Simone raised an eyebrow. "Sure. but that doesn't explain why you two were practically kissing across the field," she grinned.

"We were not!"

"You so were."

"Okay, fine. Then what about you and Jean-Pierre?" Eponine dared. Simone's eyes went wide like a deer caught in headlights. "Sshht! No one can know!"

"I'll shut up." Eponine laughed. "Please don't tell Michéle." Simone begged. "I won't. Have you kissed already?" Simone giggled, and nodded. Luckily, Michéle had left a few minutes before the final goal to go to the toilet, so she hadn't heard them.

"So... You and Descamps, huh?" Simone prodded. Eponine groaned. "Let me breathe. Why would I even want to have anything with him? He bullies us."

"That he does," Simone began. "But you know what he also does?"