Going Home

Chapter 18: One Day More

Enjolras was taken aback by her request. He stood there quietly, weighing the options causing Caoimhe to sigh, "I'm sorry... It was improper..."

He took her hand, kissing the top of her head, "Come back inside. I'll tell them that I'm taking you home for the night and I'll return within a few hours."

His answer surprised her. She stepped back inside the Musain, the place that had been home to her for half a year after her arrival. She found herself missing those simple days. How long ago it seemed! Enjolras brought her through those doors straight to the meeting room and Joly tended her head. Madame Houcheloupe had practically adopted her as her own daughter. They were lower-middle class, but it was just the two of them so life wasn't particularly hard. They dressed simply, but it was more comfortable than the dresses she wore now. It was a bit of a struggle to get water, but they managed. She had to work hard, but it had given her something to do. Madame lamented about not having a man in the house, but was thankful for the company and help of Les Amis. She often teased Caoimhe about marrying one of them. It had usually been about Jehan or Bahorel or Feuilly. Enjolras had never once even crossed Madame's lips, though Madame seemed aware of the two of them before they were.

She heard laughter from the back room and she felt her heart ache. Those men were her friends and she knew all but Marius would die at the barricade. Poor Jehan would be caught and executed, Gavroche would be shot trying to get ammunition. A mere child slaughtered. Eponine would die protecting Marius, a man who didn't even really care about her. The rest would be slain by muskets and cannons. And Enjolras? He would die clutching the red flag, refusing the blindfold from the National Guardsmen, Grantaire standing by his side announcing his belief in the revolution. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes, but she fought them back, not wanting Enjolras to see.

Speaking of Enjolras, she heard him coming down the stairs, coming to stand beside her. She took his arm and the two left without a word into the night. The walk was absolute silence between the two. Caoimhe felt herself trembling, Enjolras rubbing her hand comfortably. It was late and most of Paris was asleep. When they got to the apartment, they went straight back to their room. Neither spoke and they avoided eye contact. Caoimhe began to carefully undo the strings and buttons on her dress, but found it difficult to do so from her shaky hands. Enjolras came up behind her and began helping her. He paused and leaned in to her ear, "Don't feel like you have to do this, Caoimhe."

"I want to do this. I want to be with you."

He kissed her cheek and neck, stepping away so the two could finish undressing. They stared at each other, shyness overtaking them. Enjolras came towards her and gently ran his fingers against her skin from her shoulder down. Caoimhe looked up at him, a look of sadness and desire. Those green eyes he had come to love for their life. It put him at ease that even with the sorrow, he could see that passion. He leaned down and kissed her, the kiss starting out softly but gaining passion, momentum. They went to the bed, their hands touching each other's bodies as if trying to memorize one another. The nerves were still there, but there seemed to be a sense of urgency. He paused to look at her, admiring her face. He took the necklace he gifted her in Saint-Etienne and studied it closely, rubbing it with his thumb. She gently began stroking her fingers through his curls, bringing his attention to her. Enjolras leaned down to kiss her and began rubbing her legs before looking up once more, his eyes questioning whether or not she was ready for it. She leaned up to kiss him, giving him the okay. He eased himself so the pain wasn't bad at all. Maybe it was because she had expected it? There was some discomfort, but he took it slowly,  waiting for her to become comfortable. He began to pick up speed and the night soon was filled with their cries of passion.

It was rare for people to have full immersion baths, but it was a somewhat special occasion. Caoimhe was laying against his chest, relaxing at the sound of his breathing. The water was cool, but the coldness came as a relief after their "exertions". Enjolras had his arms wrapped around her, his chin resting on the top of her head. They had already washed, but at this point, were just relishing being with each other. He kissed the top of her head, wishing he could remain with her there forever. Her eyes were closed and she looked more relaxed than she had in months. Her breathing was steady. It occurred to him that she had fallen asleep. He smiled and moved, stirring her from her sleep. He helped her out of the tub and the two began drying each other off. In a moment of passion, he picked her up and carried her back to the bed, laying beside her and stroking her hair. He kissed her excitedly before relaxing once more, studying her face. She looked drowsy and serene.