A/N: I swear I wasn't going to take that long of a break. It was just turning into more work than fun, so I needed to step back for a bit. But I'm back now, and school is coming to a close, so I'm looking forward to getting to write some more!

We've also moved from Plays/Musicals to the Book section!

This chapter's a bit of a mess, it's really just a bunch of little things. But hopefully you'll still enjoy it. It's really just a setup for later.

And I see colors when I hear your voice
Put on your wings that put gravity on trial
I see colors, I don't hear the noise
Because we're only flying for a while

-Andrew McMahon, Synesthesia

Éponine was trying her best not to get used to the abundance of attention and free food. Not because she wasn't enjoying it, but because she knew she wouldn't adjust well to things going back to the way they were before. So she had asked Musichetta if she could return to work as quickly as possible. Musichetta had a hard time saying 'no' before Éponine's relapse; now, it was practically impossible. The boys pretended to protest, but secretly they were pleased. The sooner everything could go back to normal, the better.

It was about five days later, and Éponine was standing behind the counter of the café. She was actually looking almost better than before. It probably had something to do with the fact that there was an overabundance of meals being cooked for her. It was as if suddenly everyone had become a chef overnight. With the exceptions of Bahorel and Bossuet, of course—Bahorel couldn't cook worth a damn and Bossuet avoided hot surfaces at all costs—who elected to bring her food from the market instead.

Enjolras and Combeferre sat at the counter, studying for upcoming tests. The library may have been quieter, but the coffee on campus was crap, or so they explained.

"I think I'm going to change my major," Combeferre declared suddenly, closing his book with a loud thump.

Enjolras peered at him from over his own textbook. "To what?"

"Medicine."

Musichetta almost choked. "Oh God. One hypochondriac is enough for us."

"I'm not going to turn into Joly, if that's what you're worried about. I just think that it's an interesting field. Tuition in France is relatively inexpensive, I mean if you compare it to other countries. I'd never be bored; there would always be new information for me to learn. And it would also give me the opportunity to help people."

Musichetta's phone went off. She went outside to take the call.

"I think that's a great idea," Enjolras told him.

"But that's so much school," Éponine said.

"Well, yeah. Especially if I decide to continue with my degree in Philosophy, too."

"Two degrees? You want two degrees?" Éponine was a bit dizzy just at the thought.

"I think you'd be really successful," Enjolras said supportively.

Éponine turned to him, blinking excessively. "Aren't you going to be like, 'Oh, Combeferre, you can't do that, it'll take too much time away from planning the revolution!' or, 'School is a governmental institution designed to trap our youth and teach them to blindly follow the ways of the law!'"

Combeferre spit out his coffee, trying to keep himself from choking.

Enjolras, however, was not as amused. She closed his book and folded his hands across it, like a teacher about to give a lecture. "First, that is not what my voice sounds like. Second, Combeferre is a responsible adult and knows how to manage his time wisely. Third, that may be true for primary schools, but education at a university level generally encourages free and independent thinking."

Éponine rubbed her eyes. "I'm never going to understand you, am I?"

"Probably not."

Musichetta ran back in. "Joly found a spot on his tongue," she sighed.

"Is he okay?" Combeferre asked.

"Minus the overreaction, he's fine. I'm going to go see him. Éponine, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Oh, sure," Éponine said, as Musichetta dragged her to the cramped storage room in the back. She had absolutely no idea what it was about, but whenever somebody said they wanted to talk, it usually wasn't good.

Please don't fire me please don't fire me please don't fire me, she thought desperately. She really needed this job. No one else was going to hire her.

"Éponine," Musichetta began, putting her hands on the other girl's shoulders. "I know you haven't been working here that long, but you've been doing really good. And everyone seems to like you. So I think you should get a raise."

Oh. "Um… thank you?"

"It's not a lot, like about half a euro more an hour. But it's something, especially because I keep leaving you alone to work. Which brings me to my next subject."

Éponine's head was swimming. She was having a hard time processing this.

"You know how I said a girl had come in and take over while you were… sick?"

Éponine nodded slowly.

"Well, she did it as volunteer work. I was thinking of maybe hiring her permanently."

"And you're asking me what I think?"

"Well, yeah. Because it's Marius's girlfriend."

Fuck.

"I mean I know you like him, and I just didn't want it to be a problem or anything. It's just that, she mentioned she didn't have a job, and she was just so helpful…."

Éponine really wanted to say no. Working at the café was hers. But she needed the job; she wasn't about to say no to her employer, even if she was asking for her opinion.

"You won't be working with her the whole time, you'll work with me sometimes, too," Musichetta continued. "And if it doesn't work out, I can tell her so."

Musichetta had a very convincing tone, which Éponine was sure came in handy when talking to an upset customer or calming Joly down from a panic attack.

"That's fine," Éponine sighed, hoping Musichetta would notice that it actually wasn't fine and would change her mind.

Musichetta squealed in delight instead. "Thank you so much," she said, wrapping her arms around the smaller girl and squeezing her.

Éponine wasn't really used to having others hug her, besides the occasional embrace from Jehan. So she awkwardly patted her friend on the back.

"Okay, I have to go take care of Joly, but I'll call Cosette right away and tell her!"

"I have something we should discuss," Éponine said.

Everyone turned. Although she was never one to shy away from offering her opinion, this was the first time she had started the topic.

"What's that?" Enjolras asked.

"I think we should discuss public education as a way of the government controlling our youth."

Combeferre bit back his grin. Joly gave him a questioning look, and Combeferre whispered something in his ear, probably recounting the story from earlier that day. Joly burst into a fit of laughter, nearly slamming his fist to the table.

"I'll raise a glass to that," Grantaire said.

"You'll raise a glass to anything," Bossuet replied to the drunk.

"I'll raise a glass to that too," he said, and he did.

And the next day, there she was.

As soon as Éponine opened the doors, there she was, standing behind the counter with a slight smile on her face. She looked like she belonged in a windowsill on Avenue des Champs Elysées, in her black A-line dress and cherry belt and flats.

The blonde looked up from whatever she was doing behind the counter and offered Éponine a small smile.

"I don't get it; what's wrong with her?" Feuilly asked.

"Nothing," Éponine spat out. They were sitting in a corner table towards the front of the room. In their sites were Cosette, who was leaning across the counter, looking at her boyfriend, and Marius, who was sitting at the opposite corner of the room with Courfeyrac, who had charged in and said he had some private matter to discuss with his best friend. Marius, however, wasn't really paying attention to Courfeyrac's story, instead continually glancing over to look at his girlfriend.

"…So the problem is…?"

"There isn't a problem! That's the problem. She's so goddamn great." Éponine was waving her hands in frustration.

Feuilly blinked a few times. He was trying to help, really, but Éponine wasn't making any sense. "So the problem is that there is no problem," he repeated slowly.

"Yes! Exactly! She's so pretty, and she's nice, but not in that obnoxious, shove-it-down-your-throat way, and, she's just- ugh."

"You're upset because she's genuinely a good person," Combeferre restated.

"Maybe she secretly has a terrible temper," Grantaire offered. "Let's find out." Before Combeferre or Feuilly could protest, Grantaire slipped the cardboard sleeve off of Combeferre's coffee cup and chucked it at Cosette.

Started, the girl blinked a few times and turned to them. With a somewhat mischievous grin, she through (or rather tossed) it back. Éponine groaned and set her head on the table.

"What's your opinion on dogs?" Combeferre asked her.

"I love all animals," Cosette said. "My dad and I moved around too much to get a pet, but I want to have a few once I finally settle down somewhere."

"What about art in schools?" Feuilly asked.

"Creativity and self-expression are just as important as math and science, especially when you're growing up and trying to learn about yourself," she answered.

"Yeah you're right," Feuilly whispered, turning to Éponine. "She's perfect."

The bell attached to the door of the café chimed, and Bahorel strode in. "I guess I should get back to work," Éponine groaned, standing.

She joined Cosette behind the counter and retied her apron. "The usual?" she asked him, not even waiting for an answer as she began to make his drink.

Bahorel glanced at Cosette, then back to Éponine. "Um… I think I'm going to stick with water for right now."

"You never just want water," Éponine said, ignoring him.

"Yes I do."

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do," he repeated, a bit more decisively.

"No."

"Yes I do, I do right now."

Éponine looked up from her work. "No you don't," she said, and her voice implied that hers would be the final word. She practically shoved the coffee into his hands. "Why would you even say you didn't want coffee?"

"…It's because your coffee turns to shit when you're in a bad mood."

"Who said I was in a bad mood?" Éponine asked. Her voice was a terrifying sort of calm.

"No one, I just assumed—"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Thanks for the coffee, Ép," he spat out as fast as his mouth would move.

"You're welcome," she said sweetly. She noted the rather large-numbered bill he left in the tip jar.

"Did you just threaten a customer?" Cosette asked.

"Maybe," Éponine replied noncommittally.

"Hmm," Cosette nodded.

Enjolras came bursting in, opening the door so fast it nearly snapped off its hinges.

"The madness never ends," Éponine muttered. She started his usual order before he could even ask.

"What I don't understand," he began, "is how a grown man with a doctorate from one of the most prestigious colleges in France couldn't possibly understand that health care is a universal right and not a communist ideal."

"Professor or politician?" Éponine asked.

"Politician. I just don't understand he sleeps at night knowing that people are denied basic rights."

"Probably quite comfortably, between down blankets, while Mozart plays from his stereo."

"And what's even worse is that people know this injustice is occurring and don't even care. They just go about their ordinary lives, unflinching as their fellow men are oppressed by those in power. I mean, how can they even call themselves free?"

"Maybe we need to switch you to decaf."

He scoffed, then finally seemed to realize that Cosette was even there. "I thought you were just volunteering last week," he said to her.

"I was, but Musichetta said she needed some extra help, so she hired me officially."

"Hmm. Well, congratulations."

"And welcome to the madness," Éponine added.

"Thanks," she answered brightly.

Enjolras accepted the coffee and joined Feuilly, Combeferre, Bahorel, and Grantaire.

"So… what time do you get off?" Éponine asked Cosette casually.

"…My shift actually ended an hour ago, but then things got busy, and you had to go on break, so I just stayed."

Are you serious? "You didn't have to."

"I know."

Éponine bit her lip, finally deciding to ask the question that had been burning in her mind all day. "What did Marius tell you about me?"

"All good things," Cosette smiled.

"No, I mean, like… about…."

Cosette sighed. "I knew that would come up. He just said that you weren't sure how you felt about him but then you decided that you didn't actually have feelings for him."

Well, not exactly, but close enough.

"Éponine," Cosette continued, "I didn't exactly have a lot of friends growing up. I mean, once I left my foster home, I was homeschooled, and we moved around a lot, so even when I did stuff like volunteer work I never got to make any close friends."

Did she not remember anything about staying with Éponine's family either? That was a question Éponine wasn't going to ask.

"What I'm trying to say is," Cosette sighed, "I really want to be friends with you. But I really don't want things to be weird. I mean, Marius is the first real friend I ever made, and he really likes you, and so I just want us to all be friends."

"Okay," Éponine answered quietly.

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay."

"Good! So, if we're going to be friends, can I ask you something?"

"…I suppose?"

"Is there something going on with you and him?" she said, nodding to the back table.

"Me and who?"

"You and Enjolras."

Éponine coughed loudly. "Um… no. Why do you ask?"

Cosette shrugged. "The way he looked at you a second ago, I just thought… nevermind."

"Enjolras doesn't look at girls. Actually, he, like, actively avoids him."

"I'm being silly, I'm imagining things. Ignore me. Guess I'm just a bit of a romantic… but he's pretty cute. Just throwing that out there."

Éponine glanced over to him. He was leaned into the table, sitting at the spot Éponine had previously claimed, having an intense discussion with Feuilly. Although she wasn't going to admit it, she agreed with Cosette. He was handsome, almost pretty, and his features might have been soft and kind had it not been for the hard look in his eyes.

"If you want me to, you know, casually mention—"

"No! No, that's really not necessary."

"If you say so," Cosette hummed.

Despite all the excitement of the day, the night was shaping up to be boringly ordinary. Cosette and Marius had left to go on a proper date not long after she and Cosette talked, and one by one, the rest of the students had filed out of the café. As usual, Enjolras looked like he was going to stay until Musain closed. He was still at the table, working on his third cup of coffee, scribbling angrily on a notebook.

And Éponine, as usual, was bored. She sat down at the table by Enjolras, hugging a cup of tea. "So… what are you working on?" she asked.

"Midterm," he answered, barely pausing his writing.

"What do you think of Cosette?" she regretted the words as soon as they left her lips, because she had a feeling this conversation probably wasn't going to be enjoyable.

"She seems fine," he said simply.

"'Fine'? Not 'perfect' or 'flawless' or 'amazing'?"

"I've talked to her twice."

"So? Everyone thinks she's like a ball of sunshine, especially Marius, obviously."

"I'm sure she's great. I'm just a little confused at why we're discussing anything that has to do with Pontmercy's love life. It's not a subject I enjoy dwelling on."

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

"I dunno, maybe the tax loopholes created for—"

The bell attached to the door rang out. Nobody ever came to the café this late; it was half an hour before closing.

A girl stood in the doorway. She was, maybe, sixteen, wearing ill-fitting clothes and torn-up shoes. Her dark hair was ratted and looked like it hadn't been brushed in several days. She had a bit of dirt on her cheek, and her eyes were too large for her face, giving her a timid expression. A bony shoulder poked out from the sweater she was wearing.

"Your sweater looks awful with that skirt," Éponine said, standing.

"You've gotten fat," the girl responded.

"Only compared to your bony ass. Is that my skirt?"

"Does it matter? It won't fit you now."

"Why are you here?"

"Mom's sick."

"Am I supposed to care?"

"No. But you should at least know."

"Okay."

The girl paused for a second, biting her lip. "I should go," she said finally.

"Wait," Éponine told her, running to the back room.

The girl stared at Enjolras with her large brown eyes. It was a bit unnerving, really, and Enjolras thought he should say something, but he didn't know what to say.

The girl finally spoke, but it didn't solve the uncomfortable air between them. "Are you banging my sister?"

"…No?"

"Why not?"

Thankfully, Éponine ran back into the room. She was holding a bundle of something, presumably pastries. "To help with your scrawny ass," she said.

"I should really go," the girl told her.

"Okay. See you around."

"Yeah," the girl nodded, pulling the door open hastily.

Éponine just stared at the spot where the girl had previously stood.

"So, that was—"

"My sister, Azelma. Yep."

A/N: okay I know Enjolras wasn't in this one as much as I wanted him to be. *profuse apologizing*