A/N: I am not even fooling with you guys, I just had to get this fic off my chest. I've written a couple chapters ahead, so I'll post one a day as long as I'm able. Heads up right away, I haven't read the book and so most of this is just crack. Sweet, delicious, frustrated crap. Also, since it's a modern AU at a university I just went the lazy route and used the one I'm most familiar with.

Loveless

Part I

The door of the coffee shop loomed over her like some mythical giant, testing the boundaries of her already quite strained nerves.

Éponine bit down hard on her bottom lip, trying to calm her racing mind, as it seemed intent on filling her with all sorts of ideas about the scene she'd be walking into. It'd been a week since the boys had started that failed protest on the steps of Low, and around that same amount of time since she'd mistaken declared her love for Marius. Before she'd been arrested. While trying to give him a head-start.

Oh god—

Gulping thickly, she quickly weighed the benefits and considerable disadvantages of going in and found that hey, considerable disadvantages won. Again. Éponine turned on her heel and started to creep away. This was stupid, they didn't want to see her again, he didn't want to see her again, not with little-miss-flawless—

She stopped right in the middle of her tracks and groaned. This was stupid.

Before she could change her mind again, Éponine raced back up the steps to the coffee shop and pushed the door open in one swift movement. The chatter that had been building before the door continued, as no one seemed to have noticed her entrance. Another bout of nerves struck her straight in the stomach, twisting and turning the already quite bruised area and reminding her that rubber bullets really, really hurt. Keeping to the considerable shadows of the vintage shop, Éponine could only just make out the conversation coming from the circle of men in the corner.

"Oh, come off it. You know you wanna ask, so just do it!"

A snort. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Heh, that's the marble man fer ya. When ya gonna admit it, already?"

"They have a point." The squeak of a pulled out chair rang through the café. "Uh, I mean, you've already been asking every day, so what makes this one different?"

"First off—you're delusional. All of you. And Grantaire, it's three. In the afternoon. Put the damned bottle down. Second off—even if I were to inquire about her, it's obvious that no one knows where—"

Éponine crept closer, trying to make out what the hell was going on, only to freeze as one of the men finally made her out from amongst the dark trappings of the café. His fierce eyes seemed to hold her in place as she shakily raised a hand and waved. "Um, hello?"

The rest of them turned at the exact same moment, as if on cue, only to stare, some in awe, some in barely disguised malicious glee. The latter made her pause and take a step back, only to crash into the formidable girth of a figure that had been standing just behind her. She gave a brief yelp as the mountain started to move, pushing gingerly towards the gathering with a delicacy that was at odds with his obvious strength.

One of the men, the one she'd long recognized as the nice one who spouted weird biology facts, winked and called out, "Thanks Bahorel! We can take it from here, can't we, Enjolras?"

The person in question finally seemed to tear his gaze away from her in order to glare at his friend, something Éponine was appreciative of. The way that guy looked at you made your skin crawl with the unfathomable urge to do anything he asked, whether it be throwing yourself into the line of fire or out a window.

A seat was carefully pulled out for her and Éponine found herself clutching her vintage scarf—dug out of a donation box in all honesty, but still soft enough to hide her hands in when she got too nervous—and looking straight at a circle of grinning men and one noticeably snarling one; none of which the one she was looking for, all of which seeming to have the same thing on their minds.

It came out as a knee jerk reaction.

"I didn't do it."

They looked taken back. Éponine arranged her already hardened features into a glare and was pleased to find some of them recoiling at the sight. "Whatever it is you're mad at me for—I didn't do it. My friend can vouch for me."

Her friend was really her sister, as that was the way this scheme usually went, but seeing as how she'd been completely cut off from the family, she was rather sure no help would be coming from that angle.

The man on her left, who already smelled like an inebriated jackass, was the first to start laughing. The rest followed. Éponine bit down on her tongue to keep from snapping that that whole mentality was the reason they'd all been arrested in the first place.

Someone slapped her rowdily on the back and she flinched for a moment out of instinct before a loud voice said, "You're not in trouble—well, sorta. But it's not your fault—well…sorta?" He looked around for help, only to find the rest of them too busy shooting out their own questions.

"So, remind us of your name again?"

"Seriously, it's totally okay if you used sorcery. I have friends who use sorcery."

"Please tell us you're not still hung up on that other idiot, I've already had enough of breaking up fights between the two of them."

"If not sorcery, maybe voodoo? You gotta tell me the name of your supplier."

"Hey, what's with those bandages on your hand? I can take a look at it, if you want! Here—"

"You don't look drunk enough. Enjolras, she doesn't look drunk enough. Back me up here."

Hands seemed to come at her from all angles and Éponine resisted the urge to hyperventilate, unsuccessfully. When one grabbed her own hand and squeezed down painfully, she shot to her feet and inadvertently knocked over the chair. It fell with a clatter. A sudden hiss rose above the noise.

"Could you all just stop acting like total idiots?"

Her eyes fell on the speaker, who appeared to have commanded the lot of them by sheer voice alone. He rose slowly, staring at her in a way that made her want to go-go-go!

"Look, I just need to thank—"

His words fell deaf on her panicking ears and as the urge to flee overcame her, Éponine did what she did best.

The door slammed as she made her way out at a pace that was nothing less than a full sprint.

X

She made it four blocks before she froze again and let out a groan. She'd forgotten to ask—again. Éponine swore silently in her head that Marius was going to be the death of her someday and if a little curse or two happened to make its way out of her mouth, then screw that. She shivered a little as a swift breeze kicked up, suddenly remembering that her safety scarf was still on the grainy coffee-house table where she'd abandoned it. A smile spread across her face, slow and mischievous.

Bingo—excuse.

This time when she swept back in through the door of Café Musain, there was hardly a cower or even a flicker of the shell-shocked woman from moments previous. She took the scene in with barely a pause, only noting that the distressingly blonde one with the intense stare seemed to have given up on his friends and resigned his forehead to the close company of the hard wooden table, while one of his friends had picked up her scarf and seemed to be acting out a part from a play or something.

"Oh, Enroljas-"

She took three long strides and grabbed the offending cloth off of him, not really caring the way it had been tied at his neck. His trachea would heal. As the others gaped at her, Éponine let loose one of her fiercest looks, the one that would scare off even the most hardened of criminals, her father's accomplices or whatever.

"Hey—"

She sidestepped the obviously drunk man neatly, snatching his bottle of wine from his hand with a dexterity born of years of pick pocketing. He tried to grab it back, only for her to dodge neatly again and press her lips to the opening of the bottle, chugging the remains easily. Tipping her head back to gather the last few drops, it was with a gasp that she released the bottle and pushed it back into the hands of the drunkard, who looked awestruck.

Finally wrapping her dull grey scarf safely around her neck, Éponine shook her hair out and faced the rest of the group known as ABC Tutorial and said resolutely in a rasp that sounded like it was still burning from the sting of alcohol, "Now I'm drunk enough."

There was a pause. The one she'd recognized earlier as Courfeyrac, or Coury, or something freaky like that, commented to the empty air, "I like her."

Judging by the slow, drawn out smile of the only man still sitting down, and who appeared to have gotten over his brief affair with the tabletop, the general consensus here seemed to be the same.

Éponine fought the inexplicable urge to grin.

X

Minutes later, Marius finally walked in.

Éponine froze in her chair, the cards almost falling from her hands as a man who'd introduced himself as Bossuet groaned to see her full house. She'd been trying to teach him to cheat, but he seemed to be horrible whether or not he had a sleeve full of aces. She rose suddenly, terrifyingly aware of the silence around her.

Her hands twitching for something to do quickly slid the cards into her own pockets, only to seconds later clasp around the ends of her hair in a nervous gesture she had to stop doing around him. She fumbled for words, feeling her cheeks redden with every passing second he just stared at her as if he'd seen a ghost. "Um, I've been meaning to talk—"

Someone interrupted with a drawled, "So there you are, Marius. And here we thought you'd been avoiding us."

Marius' gaze suddenly turned sharp, looking to some spot just behind her shoulder. Or wait—Éponine spun in place, only to let out a muffled 'shit' as she found herself face to chest with the blonde guy who'd been introduced as Enjolras by a smug Jehan, the latter of which who appeared to either be colorblind or unaware that his Christmas sweater had been made by the Goblin King.

One of the men groaned aloud as he took in the scene. "Not another one. One these days I'm just gonna let you two duke it out."

Grantaire pretended to looked aghast at the suggestion. "And let Enjolras ruin his pretty, pretty face? It's the only thing that balances out, well, him and doesn't the poor woman have enough to deal with already without a tragically misshapen lover?"

Confused, Éponine attempted to backtrack again, only to find herself faced with a wall of crowding ABC Tutorial members who simply pushed her right back beside their now glaring leader. Éponine prepared herself to fight her way out, were it not for Marius' next words—"'Ponine, what's wrong with your hand?"

It was a perfectly legitimate question and she would have given her usual completely illegitimate answer, if the combination of the situation and her frazzled nerves hadn't caused her to just clutch the offending appendage closer and blurt out unconvincingly, "Nothing."

Removing himself from the crowd, Joly stepped forward to follow up on his earlier offer to help. Éponine shook her head again and straightened, trying to calm herself down before she accidentally lashed out at one of them for touching her. "It's nothing. Really. Just a couple bruises from the barricade."

It was probably the worst thing she could have said.

The chattering died down quickly, something that she was pretty sure could be counted as her superpower at this point, and Éponine felt a particularly pointed stare coming from beside her that she ignored. Meeting Marius' now piteous gaze, she stepped forward and repeated, "I need to talk to you."

He nodded slowly, once, looking terrified and guilty and oh crap this was going to go badly. The boys let them pass and she made for one of the corners of the café, one she knew they couldn't listen up at without seriously trying. It was the same corner she'd spent the last few months at. Éponine clutched at her scarf again, wishing that she hadn't already lost her hat during the protests. Sucking in a deep breath that she was loath to loose, she sat and finally prepared to explain everything to the man who had once been the love of her life.

This was going to go so badly.

X

"About what happened—"

"I'mnotinlovewithyou!"

"That's…subtle."

"Huh?"

"Look, I know you're with Cosette. I knew you were with Cosette."

"And that's…okay?"

"Yea, I guess. I mean, I just got caught up in the moment. Saving your ass and everything."

"So you don't have feelings for me?"

A pause. "No. Yes? I'm not gonna pretend it's nothing, but it's not enough for me to even bother anymore. Get it?"

"No."

"Of course you don't." A sigh. "I just wanna be friends again, okay? I borrow your textbook every now and then, you don't rat me out when it comes back with bloodstains."

"...Wait."

"Forget the last part. Basically, I don't want this thing to be a shit storm. And it currently is a shit storm. The shit storm needs to end, man."

There was a brief moment of hesitation before a bark of laughter rang through the café, and directly into the surprised ears of the currently eavesdropping ABC tutors. They all simultaneously looked towards the blonde man in the corner, who made a noise not entirely unlike a growl.

"Yes, I think I get it a little now, 'Ponine."

"Good. We were both acting like real idiots for a while there."

"Me, an idiot?"

"The absolutely worst."

Éponine broke into a wide grin and was happy when Marius did the same, even as the tattered remains of her stripped heart ached with the dull reminder of lost love.

X

As her head felt fit to burst, Éponine quickly excused herself and left the café with the promise to return tomorrow. Probably. She only started crying after the first couple blocks and was proud to say that she had almost completely stopped the moment she'd arrived to the shelter that was now her home.

'Participating' in the ill-advised and violent protest, even if she had been caught during the very beginning of it, meant that whatever chance she'd had to trying to scrounge up financial aid from the pockets of the university suddenly turned jack shit. Not that it mattered. Being kicked out of that very university meant that she didn't really need to bother with all that deadline and FAFSA and loan crap anymore.

Which was good.

Éponine sucked in the next wet sob that had been fighting to escape, reminding herself that a Thénardier was nothing if not resourceful. Although she was pretty sure it wasn't the same kind of resources that those men in the café had, seeing as how they had mostly likely been thrown out as well, only to have their parents subtly remind the university with loads of donations that you don't just expel wealthy brats, no matter how much revolution they'd been proclaiming. She'd just drawn the shitty end of the socioeconomic stick.

Still.

Things would turn out fine.

Éponine refused to even let herself mentally voice the trailing 'right?'

A/N: Sorry.