Title: Lune
Pairing: Onesided Gringoire/Esmeralda
Warnings: None
Summary: He likes to think when her cheeks are flushed and her dark eyes are closed in slumber, she thinks of him.
A/N: This was a requested oneshot. I really love this pairing, so expect lots more oneshots.

He likes to think that perhaps when her cheeks are flushed and her dark eyes are closed in slumber, that even for a split second, she thinks of him:him -Pierre Gringoire- prince of the streets of Paris and world famous poet. (In his head at least)

Their marriage is built on nothing more than a simple act of kindness. Unlike many couples that stroll around Paris, there are no confessions of love under a silvery moon and certainly not any kisses stolen when the moonlight is traded for sunlight. Pierre has imagined these acts countless of times in his mind. He has composed countless sonnets dedicated to Esmeralda's goddess like features; some of them he writes in Latin, partially because it is quite amusing when Esmeralda looks over his shoulder, and pouts over the language she cannot hope to decipher. ("Writing poetry in that strange language again? I wish you'd write something that I could understand.")

Pierre knows for certain that the young gypsy girl doesn't love him. Yes, there are nights when she kisses him goodnight, but he thinks that when Esmeralda does it she envisions her shining sun. There are also days when she mistakenly calls him Phoebus and quickly apologizes for her error. He knows he cannot compare to the sun -he is more like the moon. (Lune) However young girls do not fall in love for the moon, which is clouded with mystery and darkness -no, they gravitate towards the sun: full of life and warmth.

And so Pierre sings. He sings of the moon while standing underneath an ocean of stars and galaxies and unknown places. High up in the tower of Notre Dame, Esmeralda is more than likely asleep with the hunchback watching over her. Pierre sings of Quasimodo also.

For he too knows what it's like to try to compete with the sun.