Merry Christmas, everyone! It's been a really long time, so please tell me if the characters were very OOC (because I really, greatly feel like they are ("-n-) ) but I still hope you all enjoy it! Hopefully, I'll post another one-shot before the year ends, so look out for that :D Have a blessed holidays!

Disclaimer: I own Les Miserables. Ha! Oh, how I wish. Just kidding, I don't own it, yet :) I also do not own any image in the cover, credits to their respectful owners

(i)

Enjolras was just finishing up his passionate spiel for the day when Courfeyrac burst in with a childish grin and loudly announced, "The world is caked in snow!"

At that, everyone rushed to see—everyone except Enjolras and Combeferre, of course. The windows were crowded with eager faces as the world below them was powdered with snow.

"Let's go over to the park!" Courfeyrac eagerly suggests, pointing to the park across the café.

"But—" Enjolras starts to protest but Bahorel butts in.

"You were just about to end the meeting, anyways!" he argues.

"Well, he has a point," Combeferre politely agrees, all in support of a little fun.

"It's not like we're interrupting anything," Courfeyrac reasons and the rest all nod, trying to sway the Marble Man.

"Come on, Apollo, even revolutionaries need some fun!" Grantaire spouted.

"Please, Enjolras?" the youngest Amis, Gavroche, pouted and gave him his mastered puppy eyes.

Enjolras took in a deep breath—he could not give in.

"Just let the little boys play, Enj," a raspy, young, feminine voice spoke up from the sea of men (and boy/s).

"Yeah, Enj," Grantaire added to the girl's statement. "Listen to your girlfriend."

That earned Grantaire a solid whack to the back of his head and a "stop spouting nonsense, R" as Éponine pushed past him and into view. "Just let the boys enjoy some time out. You'll have another meeting tomorrow so you can ramble all you want then."

Enjolras' brows furrowed at her statement, muttering, "I do not ramble."

The amused tilt of her lips and sparkle in her eyes told him that she believed otherwise. "Come on, Enj. For your best friend?"

"I thought I was his best friend," Combeferre interrupted, an amused grin on his lips.

"Fine, for your prettier best friend," she corrected herself, a joking tilt to her lips.

Enjolras sighed in defeat. "Fine."

The group cheered and the sea of grown men, women, and child flew down the stairs and out the door. The only people left in the room were Enjolras and Éponine.

He looked up at her as she neared him, quirking a brow as he asked, "Happy now, mademoiselle?"

"Not as happy as those dorks are," she teased and he rolled his eyes as she grabbed his arm and started to drag him out the door. "Now let's go. I don't want to miss out on the fun!"

By the time they reached the park, the group were in a big snowball fight.

"Éponine! Join us!" Musichetta laughed as she hit Bossuet square in the face.

"Enjolras! We can't lose to them!" Courfeyrac rallied for his support as he aimed for Marius.

The pair turned to each other—a mischievous grin on Éponine's face and an amused smirk on Enjolras'.

"I'm not going easy on you just because you got me filled crust last night," she teased, backing up to the girl's (and Marius, Jehan, Feuilly, and Gavroche's) side.

"And I'm not holding back, either," Enjolras grinned, making his way to the other side.

The snowball war ensued. Freezing powder flew through the air, melting and seeping into their clothes. The frigid temperature couldn't stop them from enjoying, though. Soon enough, the battle moved from behind trees and falling forts to haphazard charges and teasing chases.

"You can't run forever!" Éponine teased Enjolras as he dodged another shot.

"Just because you got Bahorel and Combeferre doesn't mean you'll get me!" Enjolras retorted, jogging backwards with a confident smirk.

"Oh yeah?" she replied with a devilish grin and before he knew it, she was launching all 62 kilograms of herself towards him.

The two landed hard on the ground, the harsh impact softened by the snow.

By the time his eyes adjusted and his lungs had wind, he found himself staring into deep brown eyes swirling with gold.

"Hi," he breathed, wisps of smoke leaving his lips.

"Hey," she whispered back, a sudden quiet enveloping them as the chaos ensued around them.

And then it was just words. And them. And that small, small distance separating his lips from hers. And if she just tilted her head a—

The cold, hard impact of snow hitting her face jolted her back into reality. The pair turned to see Bossuet running away, Courfeyrac cursing at his heels, "Dude! You just ruined the moment!"

When they turned to look back at each other, it was impossible to hold back their laughter. Their sides were aching so bad that she fell on the snow beside him, one arm pinned under her as the laughter slowly subsided.

As soon their laughter subsided, the air was filled with a comfortable silence (well, as silent as it can get when other people are engaged in a snowball fight). And just when Éponine's mouth opened, a shudder ran up Enjolras' spine—one that she could feel through his arm.

"You okay?" she asked, sitting up.

"I'm fine, just cold," he sat up as well, dusting the snow off his clothes. "Really, really cold."

"Musichetta's probably going to start making hot chocolate inside," she hummed, looking to the café across them.

"Well, we better be the first in line, then," he stood up, dusted powder off his pants and offered her a hand. They walked back to the café damp and cold but more than happy from the game.

And if their hands seemed to be linked together when they entered the café, well, they needed to spread body heat somehow, right?

(ii)

Enjolras hated this job. Aside from the awful costume, they made him put on a stupid mask because, apparently, his face just wasn't welcoming enough. What a compliment. He needed the money, though, so there he was, stuck keeping a line of children in order for Santa Claus in the middle of the mall.

His shift was about to end in half an hour and he couldn't wait until it was finally over.

"Are you a giraffe?" a little girl asked him, breaking his thoughts and bringing him back to reality.

"Uh…What?" his brows furrowed as he looked down at the little girl next in line.

"I said, are you a giraffe?" she repeated her question, which caused the adult behind her to snort. He looked up with an accusing glare at the laugher and found himself staring into familiar brown eyes. Crap, he thought, his gaze quickly returning to the little girl's.

"Um, no, I'm Santa's elf," he changed his voice, making it go higher so that Éponine wouldn't recognize him.

"But you're way too tall to be Santa's elf!" the little girl argued, pouting as she stared up at him. This made Éponine chuckle and it took all his willpower not to stare.

"I'm half-human?" was his lame excuse, causing Éponine to actually laugh—as in full-on, stomach-aching laugh.

"Next!" the elf next to Santa called and he let the little girl through as a blush started to form, burning from his neck up to his face.

"Half-human? Really?" Éponine grinned as her laughter started to subside.

He shrugged and smiled in reply, not wanting to blow his cover. It took a lot of willpower for him to stay quiet, though. She was laughing and teasing him and he couldn't even talk back!

"Next!" the elf called again and Éponine ushered a number of kids in (probably from the orphanage she volunteers at), going in last as she shot him a teasing grin.

"Bye Mr. Half-human Elf!" she called over her shoulder.

He couldn't stop smiling even after his shift.

(iii)

It was time for the annual Amis Christmas Party—this year being held in Combeferre and Enjolras' apartment—and it was time for the exchange gift. Every year, they would switch up the way they'd give gifts. Two years ago was white elephant, last year was a Christmas gift "treasure hunt", and this year is secret santa.

As everyone took a seat around the presents, Enjolras' heart started to pick up speed. This was it.

Courfeyrac started giving everyone their gifts before returning to his seat and saying, "I'll go first!"

The gift-opening went clockwise from there. After Courfeyrac got his "I'm the cat's meow" sweater from Marius, Combeferre opened his gift to see Musichetta's "Med Intern and Proud" mug, and then Feuilly, then Jehan, then Bahorel, then Marius, and then Éponine.

He held his breath as she started to slowly unwrap his gift, months of research, part-time jobs, phone calls, and meet-ups all coming down to this single moment.

Her brows furrowed as she pulled out a blue leather scrapbook, confusion and curiosity evident in her eyes. His heart skipped a beat when she started to open it and it was impossible to hide his grin when her entire face lit up.

Her reaction as a mix of squealing, bouncing up and down, and laughing—all at the same time.

"Oh my goodness!" she grinned, turning the scrapbook to show everyone. "This is amazing! It's a bunch of Playbills and programs signed by the performers!"

Courfeyrac jumped from his spot on the floor and rushed to see. The two had been acting partners ever since high school and had both dreamed of being in the Great White Way.

Courfeyrac flipped through the scrapbook's pages, complete awe in his voice, "This is totally legit! Man, whoever picked you either owes you big time or is head over heels in love with you."

Éponine blushed at Courf's statement and grabbed her scrapbook back, "Shut up, Cat Boy, why can't the person just be thoughtful, huh?"

"'Ponine, there's a difference between being thoughtful and trying to win someone over," Courfeyrac retorted, going back to his spot in the circle.

Breaking the awkward atmosphere with a loud cheer and fist bump, everyone's attention shifted to Gavroche as he opened his present next. As Enjolras followed everyone's gaze, he lingered a bit longer to catch the way she held her gift closer, a delighted smile on her lips.

The party was coming to an end and everyone was heading home and the only guests left behind were Grantaire, Jehan, and Éponine.

"Alright, I'm done cleaning the balcony," Jehan spoke as he entered the living room.

"And we're done cleaning everything else," Combeferre replied, tying a garbage bag.

"Except for R," Éponine teased as she poked the unconscious man's leg.

"I guess I'll bring him back home now," Jehan sighed as he made his way to Grantaire.

"Need help?" Enjolras asked from the kitchen, where he was cleaning the dishes.

"I'll help him," Combeferre replied, helping Jehan get Grantaire to his feet. "Éponine, could you just pile all the garbage bags together by the door? Enjolras and I will take them out later tonight."

"Okay," she nodded, waving goodbye to Jehan as she started to do just that. She closed the door as the two (three, if you count Grantaire) left and finished placing all the garbage bags by the door. She could hear Enjolras humming in the kitchen and she smiled as she made her way over to him.

"Hey Marble Man," she greeted him with a poke to his stomach, nearly making him drop the glass he was drying.

"Don't do that, Ép," he grumbled, placing the glass on the rack. "You know I'm ticklish there."

"Wouldn't have done it otherwise," she smirked at him as he dried his hands, finished with washing all the dishes. "So, Enj."

"Ép," he mimicked her, leaning back on the counter as he raised a brow.

"I haven't given you your Christmas present yet," she smiled, pulling out a little envelope from her pocket.

"You didn't have to," he smiled—they always told each other the same thing whenever gift-giving was involved.

"I wanted to," she handed him the envelope as she turned to leave the kitchen. "Besides, it's nothing compared to the scrapbook."

He grinned as he started to open the envelope before her words fully registered in his head. "W-Wait, you knew?!"

She threw a mischievous grin over her shoulder as she replied, "Next time you're a secret santa, don't write a sentimental letter by hand when you're giving the gift to your best friend. It just makes it that much easier to tell, Mr. Half-human Elf."

His eyes fell on the paper in the envelope as she sashayed out the room. Enjolras chuckled as he read the note and flew out the room to catch her.

The slip of paper forgotten on the kitchen counter.

How 'bout a night out in the Seine? It'll be my treat

–Eponine xoxo

P.S. Yes, Enjolras, this is me asking you out on a date