Conversations

Chapter I: The Intruder

It was the cool breeze of the slightly cheery noon that welcomed Éponine as she set foot outside the boring buildings of the university's quadrangle, towards its nearly empty parking space.

Summer had just come around, but its warmth seems to arrive later. The heavens were nothing but a boundless, cloudy region during that day. The sun was still too shy to reveal itself, and to grasp dominion over the vast sky.

Éponine had gone outside now for the exact same reason why she brings herself there for the past year and a half.

When she gets to her destination, her brown eyes immediately catch the usual sight of everything she has been waiting to see all day long.

She unconsciously breathes in the nasty stench of smoke, which her nostrils had already been accustomed to.

There stood, not so far away, the source of the unpleasant odor: a tall and gorgeous being, holding yet again another cigarette. He was right beside the sign that said: "smoking area"

The guy's mop of blond locks, which was all over his scalp swayed along the groove of the wind with smooth harmony.

The cigarette still clinging onto his delicate fingers aided him in producing an unconcerned disposition about her company—one thing that she got used to.

Surely, the gay summertime and the coldness of this stoic appeared to be no good match.

The back of his notorious crimson jacket was the only view that Éponine had ever enjoyed since day one. Though it was nothing near one's usual delight and pleasure, that sight already is a sort of satisfaction for her.

He's called Enjolras, the marble man.

Sure she's always wanted to steal even just a glimpse of his glorious face, but she only does when he isn't anywhere near her. Perhaps she would just forever long for a time when they come face-to-face at last. Éponine can do nothing to make that happen. She believes that she would eventually die of hunger for that moment.

She never had the nerve to initiate a talk with him, nor to look him straight in the eye. Usually, when they converse regarding school matters, she would have to face her toes in attempt to avoid blushing and further embarrassment. He couldn't care less anyway.

Yet, she was certain that he possesses a captivating ocular pair of deep ocean blue, for that is what others commonly note when speaking about the mighty Enjolras.

She often bombards her friends with talks of her adoration for him. Cosette, her closest buddy, was not going sick of her blabbering though. She was frankly the one to really acquaint Éponine about the marble man's traits of commonsense and single-mindedness.

Cosette claims to have known them from Marius, her fine and dandy beau. Éponine had really forgotten about the good-looking freckled fellow ever since she's laid eyes on the cuter blond one.

Éponine has always been a witness: Enjolras's glimmering eyes seem to display the purpose of his beliefs, with the accompaniment of his innate charisma. Without a doubt, that makes him quite persuasive and a bit demanding.

The way he speaks, though a bit lofty, was intensely passionate. The way he acts, though sometimes overbearing, was unwaveringly dedicated. The way he smiles, though not that often, was fascinatingly charming.

Éponine was well aware that those little things were the very reasons why she had an un-understandable fondness for the marble man.

Eventually, she noticed something weird that bothered her quite a bit. It was the fact that Enjolras would normally stick around this hangout of his for just merely 10 minutes—or even less, but now they've been distantly standing there for 22 minutes.

Éponine would typically wait for him to leave first everytime, but if she esteemed she had other more vital duties to busy herself about—which was totally seldom—she goes home after five minutes of aimlessly gaping at the young man's crimson back.

She wondered why he has been overstaying his time during this day. Everything seemed to be just the same. He was standing straight with that signature florid top. His blond curls were billowing like the wind. The cigarette, as anticipated, was clasped within his fingers.

The girl thought about it as being a signal. This could perhaps be destiny's manner of telling her that she should go and begin a dialogue with him.

She didn't precisely know why she lacked courage to reach out. Maybe it was because of his intimidating aura. The thought of him alone already sends chills to Éponine's spine. Or maybe it's because of fear of rejection—her fear of being rejected once again.

However, something about the quick and unexpected shift of the clouds that moment had given her the heart to dare. Though it was nearly setting, the sun had managed to shine. As if it was smiling down on Éponine, and cheering for her.

About eight feet away from the guy, she slyly declared, "smoking does anybody no good." She has wanted to tell him that since the first day. Now, she had no regrets. She's done it at last. Éponine was truly concerned of him and his health.

Enjolras was not moved by her effort all the same. He knew the lass though. They were classmates, but he didn't mind. Perhaps he never will. Apparently, he pays no mind to the existence of women in this world. He may negotiate with them, but solely for urgent concerns.

"I thought you were wise enough to realize." That statement of Éponine's daringly contained guts and sass. She was not born a quitter, and would might as well go on and finish what she's started. She desperately desired a response.

To her astonishment, he slowly turned his head by a quarter, revealing a wondrous view to Éponine's sight. His eyes were now focused on something by the side, his nose was expectedly pointed, his chin was perfect for his sturdy nature, his jaw was clenched firmly, and his hair, in her opinion, looked neater when viewed from that angle.

Seemingly, Éponine loved to tease. "You can do better than that, can you not?" Enjolras had learnt to admire the grit and the brave spirit present within the depths of the young woman's soul, who had persisted on pestering him.

Suddenly, she saw how the smoke roughly escaped his lips as he blinked once. Right then, he turned around fully to face the intruder who spoiled his solitude.

At last, Éponine had had a crystal clear gaze of the angelic face behind the remarkable red attire. Only, her hopeful glance had not been mirrored by the man that was now heading towards her direction.

Enjolras stepped heavily, as if his feet were really of great weight. Walking straight ahead, he took another drag from the slender cigarette in his fingers.

When he's reached the spot right her very front, much to Éponine's extreme shock, he carelessly exhaled the smoke directly at her face. She forced out coughs, trying to whack away the smoke.

Covering his own with a somewhat proud expression, Enjolras hurriedly made his back face Éponime once again. He totally scorned nosy people. He didn't like people meddling with his business—maybe nobody does.

The young guy sought to return to his previous place, but was soon stopped in his tracks.