Disclaimer: I'm not Victor Hugo, I don't own these characters. I just take them out to play.

She liked watching him.

No, she didn't 'like' him. He wasn't Monsieur Marius, after all. She was merely...interested in him, that's all.

Often, she would sit outside the café, perched on the wooden cartons and boxes stacked there and peering through the grimy window, watching the group of students sitting around and drinking. Most of the time, her eyes would be fixed on Monsieur Marius. On the days when Monsieur Marius wasn't at the café however, she found her gaze drifting over to where he stood.

She did like watching him.

And who could blame her?

His long wavy golden hair, tied up by a piece of ribbon at the base of his neck. The way his icy blue eyes seem to light up and shine whenever he started talking about some sort of 'revolution' or another...she never really paid attention to his words, just the way his mouth moved. And when he spoke, his voice was the type that you could just sit there and listen to for hours, regardless of the actual words coming out of his mouth. His voice made you listen...made you want to believe...

He wasn't as pretty as Monsieur Marius was, but he was handsome. Indeed, handsome enough to have all the ladies wanting to drape themselves all over him.

He never seemed to notice though. Every time one of the others brought a few of their lady friends around, his eyes would be firmly fixed upon whatever book that was in his hands at that present time. Even when the occasional particularly bold female would walk over and run her hands over his jacket, his concentration on his book would never shatter.

She found this sight to be extremely entertaining, watching the ladies' futile attempts at seducing him. He would just merely frown and brush the wandering hands away without giving them a second glance or taking his eyes off the pages.

She liked that about him. Yet, she didn't like that about him as well.

"It's a remarkable thing to be hot as fire yet as cold as ice," one of his friends had once stated about him with a shake of the head. Éponine had to agree. A man of fire and ice.

He would never look at her as anything other than a street girl.

Not that she wanted him to look at her at all.

But it would be nice if he returned her looks.

Maybe just once.

A/N: I'm alive...just. I know, I'm horrible with my stories, aren't I? I'm afraid that all of my current ongoing stories are now on hiatus, just until I get myself back together again. This year has been hectic beyond belief.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! R&R, it'll make my day!