The first time they are together, it is a tangled, rushed mess of clothes and sweaty limbs and biting teeth.

Eponine is a violent sexual creature fueled by heartache and despair while Enjolras yearns for an outlet for his constant frustration. They mesh together well, although neither will admit to that fact. It's a mistake, of course, and an action that they plan to never repeat. But Eponine has watched Marius nuzzle his perfect face against Cosette's perfect, milky skin far too many times and something inside her finally snaps. It hurts. It hurts so much and for one night she wants to feel as if somebody wants her; her scars, her bruises, her tattered clothes and calloused hands.

Luckily Enjolras has had enough as well.

While his friends take him seriously, he fears they do not take their cause seriously and it's a constant source of anger inside him. It continues to build stronger and stronger and since he's never found a constructive way to relieve himself of said anger, he instead finds himself agreeing to walk Eponine home, knowing full well what that entails. He sees the same fire in her eyes that he has, although it burns for different reasons.

When they wake in the morning, sore from sex and hung over from too much whiskey, Eponine gives him a cup of coffee and sends him on his way, the unspoken agreement between them to never talk about the night they'd shared.

It was just one incident.

The second time, it doesn't start with lovesick feelings or anger – instead Enjolras learns that Eponine trusts him enough to reach out when she's in a bind.

She has no water since the pipes in her shitty apartment froze and she's got to get a shower after a horrid night at work. Perhaps she could have waited for a handyman and put off a shower for a few hours, but somewhere, in the dark recesses of her mind, she wanted to know if Enjolras would help her.

He didn't let her down.

Eponine takes her sweet time and when she leaves the bathroom, Enjolras can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at its state; towels on the floor, the clothes she'd brought strung here and there, and regardless of the clothes, she's chosen to wrap his robe around her body. It swallows her whole, but he's sure that in the early sunlight, she's the most attractive thing he's seen.

He offers to make her breakfast; instead she smirks and saunters off to the couch and sits down. She says nothing and glances toward him, her eyes testing the waters between them.

Her legs are wrapped around his waist moments later and she's laughing; a deep laugh that makes his blood burn.

"Was this your plan all along?"

Eponine delicately pushes down the waistband of the pajama pants he's still wearing and she shrugs lightly. "Just one more time."

When the smell of sex is still lingering in the stuffy air of her cramped apartment, it's decided that the third time was for honesty.

The sheets are thrown off of the bed and they lay there, not touching, but together all the same. While Enjolras lies straight on the bed, Eponine continues in her quest to be different; she's opposite of him and laid on her stomach. She doesn't want too much familiarity between them even if they've shared such intimate moments.

Eponine is tired of silence though and she delves into Enjolras's past; asking questions about his parents, his job, his education, his friends, and even his sex life. He answers them all and while she expects him to try and ask her the same, he instead stays quiet and that bothers her to no end.

"Don't you want to know anything about me?" she asks, turning to her back and propping up on her elbows.

"I already know what I need to know."

Eponine quirks and eyebrow and chuckles, "You know nothing about me."

Enjolras stares at her then, his blue eyes vaguely resembling a storm and immediately Eponine stops laughing.

He is perhaps the only one who knows anything about her and it's terrifying.

Necessity.

She needs him now and she has tried for a month to deny it. Eponine drowned in work, making more tips than ever since she constantly asked for more hours at the bar. She would try to not sleep, only giving in when her body would begin to shut down. But she's successfully avoided Enjolras for four weeks now and it's beginning to grate on her.

Eponine notices it at first when she has coffee with Marius and the feeling of despair in the pits of her stomach is no longer there. It's confirmed when Cosette thinks it important to describe her last date with Marius over lunch and Eponine feels emptiness. She no longer needs Marius. That feeling of desperate longing is gone, instead replaced by a genuine interest in Cosette and Marius's life behind closed doors.

When had this happen?

It's three in the morning and she's been alone all night. The bar owner refused to let her work five nights in a row and she has had too many hours to overthink everything. She doesn't love Enjolras, not by a long shot, but she also doesn't want to keep avoiding him. When she's with him she feels something else there and it's taken the place of her feelings for Marius. Eponine isn't smart enough to put her feelings into words so instead she shows up at his door as the clock is ticking away to four.

He's awake and she swears that he's been waiting for her, even if that's an impossible and romantic notion.

Enjolras looks like shit; his eyes are dark and his hair is a ratty mess. There's paper all over the floor and his hands are stained with newspaper ink but Eponine immediately draws toward him, kicking the door closed behind her.

They end up on the couch since they're not sure if the time wasted to make it to his bedroom is worth it. Besides, she's already stripped down to her underwear and Enjolras isn't far behind. Once he's inside of her, Eponine relishes in what she's missed for so long. Her hips buck up to meet his and she tightly holds his shoulders, bracing herself to the world around her. It's no use and in time she throws her head back and rides the pleasure to another place. When they're finished, Enjolras lies on top of her and she lightly strokes his back while his fingers twist in the ends of her hair.

The overwhelming emptiness from before is gone; replaced by something that she doesn't understand.

Though she isn't sure that she wants to.