Montparnasse was the only attendee of Eponine's funeral.

Montparnasse wore his best suit, one he'd bought months ago and never had the occasion to wear. He knew that Eponine's funeral should be listed along with those other subpar occasions, but it wasn't. He brought roses, a full bouquet of blood red roses which he held in his arm like a baby.

It was a somber thing, held just past dawn. He had carried her body, bloody and cold, to the Cimetière Montparnasse, figuring that if his name couldn't be on the tombstone as a part of hers, that was a compromise. He payed the gravedigger to dig Eponine's grave, an unimpressive thing under a tree.

Once this task was done, the gravedigger walked off a bit, leaving Montparnasse alone with her corpse. He kissed her cold, lifeless lips softly and took an object out of his pocket. It was a ring, his deceased mother's, a simple gold band at first sight, but with an inscription on the inside- "toujours", or always. He slipped the ring onto her finger, a moment he would've enjoyed infinitely more if they had both been alive for it.

He left hours after the final deed of filling in the hole with her body and the cold earth was finished, once the tears had dried off his pale face. On his own finger he wore the counterpart to the ring which was held by Eponine's left hand. He walked away sullenly, hoping that he hasn't taken too many liberties. The bouquet of roses and a drop of his blood were pressed against her simple tombstone, to be visited and renewed daily.