He heard the knock and stretched. Crap, he thought, as he caught sight of the time. Had he really been sitting there for five hours? His grumbling stomach, stiff muscles and bleary eyes seemed to attest to that fact. The knocking started again and he hurried to open the door. He looked through the peep-hole and immediately tugged the door open. "Hey!" he said, smiling brightly. The sight of his girlfriend could always bring a smile to his face.

"Hey," she said, coming inside. He bent to kiss her but she sidestepped him and headed towards the kitchenette. "Important paper?" she asked, gesturing to the books, papers and open laptop.

"Yeah, actually. I've been doing research for –" he started, ready to expound on the subject that he had been absorbed in so long.

"Is it due soon?" she cut in. She disappeared into his pantry and came out again, bearing a bottle of wine.

"Actually it's due in a couple of weeks but I started it and got really into it," he said, rubbing the back of his sore neck. He could sense she was upset about something but he wasn't sure what and where exactly her anger was directed. He noticed for the first time what she was wearing. A pretty black dress, black pumps, her hair pinned up nicely and the necklace he'd given her last Christmas. She was stunning. "You look nice," he commented.

"Thanks," she said, glancing down at her outfit.

"What's the occasion?" he asked. He noticed a brief flash of anger in her eyes.

"The occasion?" she echoed him. The anger he had seen in her eyes was apparent in her voice. "The occasion's my birthday. I actually just got back from a really nice dinner at that new Italian restaurant that just opened up on 44th. I had this really good pasta and their bread was amazing. The alcohol was too expensive though so…" she lifted up the wine bottle. As she was saying this, a heavy feeling of guilt had begun to settle on him.

"Your birthday….right," he said, slowly. "The restaurant…right." Dammit. He was supposed to have been there. It was her birthday. How stupid was he to forget it was his own girlfriend's birthday. "Eponine, I am so very, truly, deeply, embarrassingly sorry."
"It's fine, Enjolras," she said, in a clipped tone that said it was not fine.

"No, please. I feel terrible. Let me make it up to you. Tomorrow we can – "

"I can't do anything tomorrow," she cut him off.

"Well, then the next day," he insisted.

"I can't. I'm leaving tomorrow morning," she said, coldly.

"Leaving?" he echoed, weakly. "Leaving for where? For what?"

"I'm going to California. I got that journalist job," she told him.

"Journalist job?" he repeated.

"Yeah. I told you about it a while ago. You probably weren't listening. Or you just forgot," she said, callously.

"But how long are you gone for? Is it just, like, a temporary thing or are you coming back?" he asked, too bewildered to be upset.

"Well, I might come back for visits but we'll see how things go," she said. Her demeanor was cold and deceptively calm. Enjolras was floored. He didn't know what to say. How had this happened? Why hadn't she told him? Actually, he rectified that. She probably had told him. He just hadn't listened or heard.

"What about…what about…us?" he stammered.

"That's another reason I came over. To say good-bye. There was a good-bye party Saturday but I guess you didn't remember. Or never knew," she said. "It was small. Just my closest friends. Except you. I wasn't too annoyed at the time when you didn't show up and answer calls. I thought I'd have my date with you tonight."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling utterly miserable and not knowing what else to say.

"You know, Enjolras. It's ok. This is obviously better for both of us. You are too busy with your stuff. My career is just taking off. So I guess it's better that we don't have this relationship distracting us." She took a deep breath and paused, waiting to see if he said something. But he didn't. He was still too shocked. Something in her seemed to snap. Her next words were said with an angry and intolerably sad voice. "How did we get to this? We used to be so close. But then work was consuming you and you never seemed to have time for me. I did my best. Went to your rallies, bailed you out of jail. All that good stuff because you were my boyfriend. I admit I was kinda pissed at first because after all the crap I went through you never seemed to notice. But then I realized that was just you. You don't notice things outside your precious little cause. And then I realized something else. That's why you noticed me in the first place. I was your little charity case, right?"

"Eponine, hang on," he said, beginning to recover enough to fight back. "That's not true."

"But isn't it? I don't need your charity any more, so I'm of no interest. Your work's done and you can get back to saving the world. The sad thing is, I really thought you loved me, Enjolras."

"I do," he said weakly.

"Well, maybe you do. But it's clear you love your work more. There's nothing wrong with that. Just let a girl know so she doesn't have to wait around at some fancy restaurant looking like an idiot because she ordered a table for two."

"Eponine –" he started again.

"And I don't mind so much anymore. Your work is good. You really did help me and my days with you have been the best in my life. Your work even inspires my own. I wouldn't even have this job without you probably. You're the one who showed me how to channel my frustration and anger at everyone into something useful. So I thank you for that. But that's it. I'm done. I have to go. I have to let you go. So, good bye, Enjolras. I'll let you know when I've settled in so you don't worry." She turned and walked out the door. Just like that. She was gone and Enjolras had done nothing to stop her.

Eponine closed the door behind her and took a deep shaky breath. Her head hurt and she wanted to sleep. She was exhausted – mentally, physically, emotionally exhausted. She walked down the flight of stairs, pushed through the doors in the lobby and hailed a cab. She clutched the wine bottle like it was her lifeline the entire drive back to her home, tight-lipped and pale. The cab dropped her off outside the apartment and she climbed the stairs, opening the door. Most of her belongings had already been shipped to her new apartment all the way in California. Only a few suitcases with her clothes and a couple boxes of books remained. She kicked off her shoes, pulled her hair out of its elegant up-do, and pulled the dress off. She turned on the shower and stood underneath the warm spray, letting her mind go blank. She wasn't going to think about Enjolras and how much her heart hurt. She stayed in the shower until the water turned cold then she climbed out, dried herself off, wrapped herself in a huge fuzzy blanket and collapsed on the couch. Her last thought before falling asleep was that the blanket wasn't hers but Enjolras'.

He woke up the next morning at his table. He groaned and straightened his stiff muscles, lifting his head off a battered edition of Democracy in America. As he sat up, he suddenly remembered the events of last night and was gripped with severe panic. Why had he just let her walk out like that? What the hell was wrong with him? He scrambled about his apartment finding his keys and rushed downstairs. He drove as quickly as he could to her apartment complex. A glance at the clock said it was 8am but he didn't know what time her flight was. Damn. Why didn't he know these things? Why hadn't he listened to her? Why had he allowed it to come to this? He pulled into the parking lot and raced up the flight of stairs to her door and pounded on it for a long time. She didn't answer. He pulled out his keys, shakily finding the one that belonged to her place. He unlocked it and let himself in. Empty. It was empty except for the furniture that belonged to the apartment. "Eponine?" he called, hopefully but he knew she wasn't there. He went back outside, a feeling of despair descending on him.

"What are you doing here, kid?" He whirled around to see Eponine's landlady, Mrs. Gorbeau.

"I was looking for Eponine," he said.

"Eponine?" she asked, incredulously. "She already left. Didn't you know? Shouldn't you be at the airport with her?"

"Yes, I should be," Enjolras replied, bolting back down the stairs to his car. He was about to drive off again when he realized he didn't even know what airport. In his haste to leave, he hadn't grabbed his cell phone. He slumped dejectedly. Somehow, he drove back home safely but he didn't remember much of the drive. When he got home and found his cell phone buried beneath a pile of paperwork, there were twenty-three missed calls. He scrolled through them quickly. Most were received Saturday and from Grantaire. Some were from Eponine last night. The two newest were from Marius. He sucked in a breath and called him back. "Enjolras?" Marius' voce came through the phone.

"Marius? Did she already –" he didn't finish his sentence because there was a sudden scuffling noise and the sound of a very high pitched squealing that sounded very much like Cosette trying to take the phone.

"Enjolras? Can you stop by my place?" Marius' voice finally came back.

"Yes," Enjolras replied, not even questioning why. Once back in the car he realized he hadn't even eaten since yesterday's lunch. Oh, well. This was more important than food.

He arrived at the apartment Marius shared with Cosette. He could tell by the beat up blue pick-up that Grantaire must also be there. He mounted the steps and knocked on the door. There was a flurry of voices and several pairs of footsteps hurried towards the door. The door opened just a little and Marius' freckled face appeared a moment later around the edge of the door. "Oh, hi," he said and Enjolras nodded in greeting. Suddenly the door was yanked open completely and Cosette stood there hands on hips.

"I hope you know that you are the world's biggest douche bag. The way you've been treating Eponine these past months is just terrible and you're an absolute jerk. Eponine is the greatest girl in the world and you didn't deserve her and now she's gone and you didn't even say good-bye. Like seriously? How screwed up are you? You obviously don't care about her enough to even know she was leaving. How did you not even know she was leaving?" her shrill tirade battered him and Enjolras just frowned and took it. Cosette had been edging closer and closer as she continued spewing insults, a mile a minute. "Who do you think you are," she punctuated each word with a sharp jab in the chest, "to treat my best friend that way? Huh?" The whole time, Marius stood in the doorway, not bothering to stop his furious fiancée.

Grantaire strolled in from somewhere in apartment, wrapped his arms around Cosette and tugged her back. "Lemmego, Grantaire!" she shrieked, pounding on his arms. Enjolras looked only slightly relieved that Cosette's harsh lecture had been paused.

"Hang on, Cosette, I can handle this for both of us," Grantaire said, calmly, holding her behind him with one arm. He turned around and punched Enjolras square in the face. Enjolras reeled backwards, holding his nose which had begun pour blood. Cosette's face looked delighted and Marius looked rather approving. Ok, I deserved that one, Enjolras thought, holding his nose.

"Come on. I'll find you a towel," Marius said. Grantaire had already gone back inside and was sitting at the table sipping a beer. Cosette's arms were crossed and she glared at him as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. When Marius came back, Enjolras was grateful to have something to busy himself with as he attended to his nose.

When the bleeding finally stopped, Enjolras looked up at his friends, feeling rather like he was facing a panel of judges. Very angry judges. "So, yes. I'm a douche and I deserve to die a miserable death," he said. Cosette nodded in agreement. "But having Eponine gone is a pretty bad punishment too," he muttered and he thought he saw Cosette's face soften just a little. "When did she leave?"

"Her flight was at 6:45 this morning. We all drove her there," Marius said. Grantaire suddenly rose and walked off but no one paid any attention to him. "She told us what happened. It was pretty screwed up, man. How did you not know she was leaving?"

"I don't know. I don't know," he said, despairingly. "I just… my work and stress and I didn't even realize. She came to the rallies and helped with the articles but I never realized. I'm such an idiot." Grantaire came back into the kitchen holding something. He dropped a fuzzy blanket onto the tabletop.

"She said this was yours and she forgot to give it back," he said, icily. Enjolras picked up the blanket, dazedly. He had forgotten he had even had this blanket. He brought it closer to his face and caught a faint scent. Her shampoo. It was all too much. He crumbled to the ground, buried his face in the blanket breathing in that faint scent and sobbed like a baby.

A/N: Not a happy start. I know. But bear with me. Let me know what you think!