She's standing outside when they turn up, arms crossed over her chest in faux frustration, and her lips curve into the biggest smile of her life when a certain fire-red vehicle comes into view. By the time her boy reaches her - he's similarly weightless, though there's no one around to notice - she's on the verge of tears. She knew he'd come for her, yes, but the confirmation of that belief is the most beautiful thing she's never known. Eponine Thénardier does not believe in love in the proper sense, but if ever she were tempted to change her mind, now would be the time.

They collide with an unexpected force, arms wrapping around torsos and lips meeting in a blur of emotion. After a while, when breathing wins over affection, she actually does start crying and buries her face in his chest, tears soaking his t-shirt. Time stands still and there are no words worth saying. His fingers entangle themselves in her hair, trying to undo several days' worth of knots; hers trace patterns on a strip of skin between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans, teasing what will certainly happen later. They are together once more and they are so, so whole.

"I missed you," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "Take me home now."

"Only if you've gotten over your fear of R's driving," Enjolras replies, only half joking. Something about letting that dingbat drive eight hours across three states just doesn't seem like a good idea, but it's the only option they've got. "I missed you too, mouse."

It's pretty obvious that she's out of it, because she doesn't have the heart to fight back. Instead, she simply goes with it, taking his hand and collapsing into the back seat of the car. He stays next to her, cuddling as much as possible while still being restrained by seatbelts, but little happens. In fact, apart from a few offhand comments by their designated driver, the entire trip is spent in silence. It's oddly glorious.

When they finally get home again, it's a blur of torn clothing and loud noises and making up for lost time in the best way they know. So good, in fact, that neither of them registers the ringing phone in the background. There are more important things for now, ecstasy and sweet nothings and collisions and release. There's only them, there's only this.

Afterwards, lying exhausted on the unmade bed, he finally finds the right words. "I worried for you. I thought you might be dead or worse."

"But I'm fine," she insists. "I don't remember anyone hurting me. But then… I don't remember much of anything."

"That's what scares me. You lost two days, Ep. Anything could've happened to you."

"But I'm here now." She kisses him again, desperately, as if he's the only real thing in the world. "I don't want to know."

"But I do. I know you got lucky, but… why? Why would anyone try to hurt you in the first place?"

"I know a lot of scary people, or at least I used to. Could be anything."

"That's not enough for me."

"It never is, Enjy. Absolute certainty… you and your hangups…"

"Have I ever mentioned how much I hate that nickname?"

"You love me, darling, and right now I'm not sure I care."