The wedding.

"Cosette, you know I'm no good at doing hair."

"Eponine, all I'm asking you to do is just hold that right there for a few moments, because I can't reach."

Eponine had a curling iron to the back of Cosette's head as she gazed drearily at her own reflection in the mirror. Her hair was brittle and frayed, her face more wrinkled than ever, and the spaces under her eyes were a disturbing purple color. What had she been doing for the past few weeks to make herself look this terrible? She'd been doing nothing but getting sleep—she should look fantastic by now.

Her stomach gurgled and she burped up a bitter fume that made her gag. She caught Cosette watching her in the mirror.

"I know I'm a mess."

"Eponine – and I mean this lovingly – you're a disaster."

Eponine nodded.

"You're still not going to tell me where you were last night?"

"It's your wedding day. Do you really want me to tell you something that would only make you mad?"

"I'm not going to get mad! Your decisions are your decisions…"

Eponine raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Ok, so I will probably mad. You're right, don't tell me, I have a feeling I already know anyway."

Eponine nodded and continued with Cosette's hair. Cosette was silent for a moment.

"But really! I mean, it's unbelievable, Eponine! How could you?!"

"Please don't lecture me right now, Cosette. Let's just get you into your makeup and dress." Her head was beginning to throb.

Cosette turned her chair to face the girl.

"Eponine…sit down. I want to say something."

Eponine heaved a sigh and sat on Cosette's bed. Cosette watched her for several moments before Eponine got uncomfortable and irritably asked, "What?"

"You have to let him go."

Eponine shook her head. "I- I did…I let him go."

"No you didn't. You're playing the same game with him that you have been the whole time you've known each other. This angry, passionate love affair thing. And look, I get it. I get that your feelings for him are real, and I get how hard this is for you too. The reason I'm saying all this is because of how hard it is for you, because you're my friend and I want you to be happy, truly."

Eponine shook her head again, not quite getting it.

"But you still haven't let him go. Yelling at him at the supermarket – yeah, I saw that – spending the night with him, acting jealous of his relationship with Sophie…Eponine, he won't be the one to let go. He can't let go. But if you can let go, then you have to. Because he won't be the one to do it, and I'm afraid that if you both keep running around in circles like this…both of you are going to end up killing yourselves with the pain you cause each other."

Eponine was silent a long time before she said, with an odd, determined tone to her voice, "I can't let go."

"What?"

"I can't let him go. I just can't. I love him. I just…I can't let him go. I have to give everything I've got into making this work. If my only other option is to let him go, and that's impossible for me, then…I know what I have to do."

"Eponine…"

"No! I know, Cosette. I know that it sounds crazy, but I just…you just made me realize how sure I am."

"Eponine…"

"What, Cosette?!"

Cosette was staring hard at Eponine with wide, concerned eyes.

"Be careful."

The blur that was last night kept playing over and over in Enjolras's mind, a reel of highlights constantly reminding him of what he'd done.

Their clothes, somehow disappearing into thin air. Throwing her onto the bed and stumbling atop her. Her skin. The way she writhed beneath him. Them both collapsing into a pile of arms and legs. Her kissing him fervently all over. The way she curled into him. How they both knew, even in their drunkenness, how much better it felt to be together than apart. That the reason they'd both been inconsolable this whole time is because they were the only ones who could console each other. How much it hurt when she awoke him early in the morning to kiss him goodbye, softly, on the side of his nose.

He tried to avoid these thoughts all morning and afternoon. Marius didn't ask, only stayed similarly silent as Enjolras tied his tie for him.

"I'm happy for you, brother," Enjolras said finally, as it was about time for them to prepare to walk.

Marius put a hand on his shoulder and smiled warmly. "That means a lot to me, Enjolras. Truly."

For the first time in weeks, Enjolras felt a faint glimmer, a distant cousin of happiness, rise within him.

As Cosette fussed with her hair one last time, Eponine prepared the girl's train.

"Cosette, you look radiant. Stop fussing, we have to go in a moment!"

"Ok, ok, I'm just so nervous! I hope I don't trip and fall, or stumble over my words in front of everyone!"

"You won't. You'll be perfect, I know it."

Cosette sighed, trying to calm herself.

A knock came to the door. Eponine poked her head out.

"It's time."

Under her layer of makeup, Cosette blanched.

Eponine turned and took the girl's hands in hers. "I love you, Cosette."

Cosette toppled into her and said quickly, "I love you too, Eponine!"

Eponine exited the tiny room where the bride awaited her turn, and Enjolras fought the urge to look away. She looked amiable, though. She smiled shyly at him as she took his arm and they begun their walk down the aisle together.

The couple said their "I do"s and the cake had been cut. Now everyone was dancing and partying. Even Cosette was spinning wildly about the room, thanks to a few too many drinks.

Enjolras sat alone at the bridal table. Eponine watched him from her spot at the bar. She took a big gulp of her drink and set it down decidedly, heading in his direction quickly lest she lose her nerve.

"Would you like to dance, Enjolras?"

He took a moment to say that he would, but once they were on the dance floor they moved together in a way much different than they had at the masquerade ball, now as two bodies that knew each other. It was comfortable and warm. It made them both happier than they'd been.

"I've missed you." Eponine admitted after their third dance.

He said nothing, but simply tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled.

"Let's get a drink," he suggested.

At the bar, they small-talked. The wedding, how beautiful the couple was, how fun the after-party was turning out to be. He told her of a new book he was reading, a new concept he had learned in school. She listened, carefully, nodding at all the right moments, adding in her little comments, happy to have him talking to her again.

By one a.m. she was exhausted and ready to leave. He offered to walk her out.

It was much quieter outside, with only a few people milling about in the cool night air.

"This is where I leave you," said Enjolras, giving her arm a quick squeeze.

"Enjolras…"

He looked at her calmly.

"You didn't really mean what you said, did you?" She continued on quickly before he had a chance to answer. "Because I had a conversation with Cosette, and it made me realize that…" She searched his face for some sort of reaction, but it remained a calm mask. "…that no matter how hard I try, I cannot move on. I cannot let you go. I'm supposed to move on. That's what is supposed to happen next and that's just the hard truth, but I can't. I don't want to. Once I realized that that was what I had to do, I realized that I'd made the wrong choice. That I should be with you. That I need to be with you. These past weeks have been hell. I can't stand the thought of never seeing you again…"

She had started this speech in a fair, reasoning tone, but it had fallen into something more desperate, urgent, needy.

"I can't let you go, Enjolras. I want to be with you. So I hope that you didn't really mean what you said, about never wanting to see me again."

He only smiled, softly and sadly.

"Goodbye, Eponine."

A little ways down the road…

As Marius walked down the hall towards the bride's dressing room, he thought back on his own wedding. How long ago that was. He was just a boy back then. They were all children, running around trying to make decisions far beyond their levels of comprehension. Constantly worried about what the future would hold, not yet understanding that everything works itself out in its own way.

He knocked on the big white door.

"Come in!"

She was fluttering about her room anxiously, checking herself in the mirror, straightening things that didn't need to be straightened.

"Marius! How do I look?"

He only smirked at her. "Don't tell me you're nervous…"

She took a deep breath. "Don't be a jerk. I'm fine, I've just got a lot of extra energy that I need to expel if I'm going to be standing still at the altar for the next hour."

"It's ok to be nervous. You are getting married today."

"I'm very happy about that. How's my veil? Is it crooked?"

"Looks straight to me."

"And my dress doesn't look wrinkled or anything?"

"It's perfect."

She stopped and stood calmly for a moment, a smile taking her face. "I'm getting married."

"You're getting married."

She ran up to him and jumped into his arms, laughing joyously. "I'm getting married!"

"That's the spirit!"

She sighed, biting her lip thoughtfully. "So how do I look?"

He rolled his eyes and smiled like it was obvious, but she continued to stare him down.

"You look wonderful, Eponine."