Outside Looking In: My Ill-fated Romance with Marius Pontmercy Part 6
Outside Looking In: My Ill-fated  Romance with Marius Pontmercy Part 6
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lostlove
lostlove Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
Les Misérables Fanfic: Éponine POV Part 6
This tells Les Misérables from the viewpoint of Éponine. I had a little extra time this week so I wrote two more parts of the story. Watch out for more next Tuesday!

Outside Looking In: My Ill-fated Romance with Marius Pontmercy Part 6

I woke, fighting my way through the layers of unconsciousness.

I first feel something wrapped around my chest.

It was tight, almost to the point of restricting my breathing

There’s a scratchy blanket tucked around me, and I realize I’m lying in a bed

I open my eyes and glance around the room I find myself in

I see a small room, clearly made up as a bedroom lit only by candlelight

It must be almost night, as I can’t see any sunlight shining in through the door to the next room

It’s shabby and small with no windows, but there has been an effort to keep it clean

There’s a small stool with a candle sitting by me, and the bed I am lying in is tucked in the corner

From my vantage point, I can see a slice of another room with a flimsy looking wooden table through the door

I hear a fire crackling and see its flickering light casting shadows on the walls.

I smell something delicious

The clink of dishes drifts in through the open door, and I realize how hungry I am.

I attempt to get up from the bed, but a hot flash of pain lances through me.

Putting my hand to my chest, I feel great swathes of bandages

A flood of memory runs through me, disjointed images flashing behind my eyes

The barricade

Marius

Cosette

soldiers

and my final goodbye…

And yet, I’m still alive

I thought the shot had killed me.

Even though it didn't I can feel the wound now, even though I’m just lying on the bed.

A dull throbbing has started up inside my chest.

As I investigate my situation, a sudden movement in the slice of the other room presented by the door catches my eye.

A young man, who can’t be much older than me, moves into view with an iron pot. As I watch, he places a bowl on the table, and begins to ladle stew into it.

My stomach growls and the man looks up.

Our eyes meet and I shrink back, having too much experience with men who take advantage of girls like me.

I wrap the blanket around me, suddenly realizing exactly how much of myself the bandages expose.

He smiles at me and goes back to his stew.

I relax a little, as I don’t think he has any nefarious motives.

He looks kind, but I still don’t let my guard down.

He finishes ladling stew into the bowl and picks it up. He brings it over to me and, after placing it on the stool next to the candle, goes back into the other room.

As the aroma of the stew floats to my nostrils, I realize how hungry I actually am.

It feels as though there is a hole, eating its way through me

I grab the bowl and begin inhaling the meal.

After chasing the last drops of the delicious stew around the bowl with my fingers I place the bowl back on the box where I found it and surrender myself to sleep once again....

I quietly poke my head around the door and see Éponine asleep.

Her face relaxes when she’s asleep and she looks years younger.

I smile to myself and quietly close the door.

I go and sit by the fire and think about the girl asleep in the next room

She clearly has had some ill treatment at the hands of mankind

I knew her father beat her, but the raw terror on her face when she saw me through the doorway haunts me

She must have experienced terrible things to make her react that way

My blood boils at the thought of some foul-breathed slovenly character luring her in with sickly sweet promises and then taking advantage of her

Her beauty was surely a draw, but she lost her innocence early, most likely

I stare into the fire, lost in thought, thinking about Éponine, closer than she’s ever been

I watch the flickering flames and think about how I can give her a sense of safety and pluck up the courage to tell her how I feel.

My head begins to droop, and I move to the pile of rags that I’m using for a bed

It used to be uncomfortable, but I think I’m getting used to it, after two months

I had brought Éponine here, to my house, the night that the barricades fell and put her in my bedroom.

I checked on her daily and regularly changed her bandages.

I had tried to preserve her modesty as much as I could but that was difficult, with the wound being where it was

It was either that, or let her die, so I accepted the awkwardness.

I tiptoe into her room and place another bowl of stew on the low stool.

I had fed her broth for two months, so she wouldn’t starve, but I knew it wasn’t enough.

I was glad she had awoken and could begin regaining her strength.

After making sure she is comfortable, I tiptoe back to my pile of rags and bed down for the night.

My eyes close and I drift off to sleep, thinking about her…

My eyes open and I sit up, mindful of my wound this time and see another bowl of stew.

I immediately grab it, as there is still a gaping void in my stomach, and wolf it down.

I put the bowl back on the stool and just as I do, the young man cautiously pokes his head into the room with a question in his eyes when he sees that I'm awake.

I am feeling much better, so I gesture for him to come in.

He does so, bringing a chair from the other room, and sitting down.

I am overflowing with questions and have none of the answers. I am eager for the young man to enlighten me as to how I came to be in his house and what the current state of events is

With that thought, I open my mouth to speak...

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