to love another person is to see the face of God.

                   There’s a paternal warmth radiating from Valjean, a kind that Enjolras hasn’t felt in what could possibly be years, that’s hard to resist. Impossible, even, as without even realizing it he finds himself hanging the given clothes up on the coat rack & following Valjean back into the kitchen. Is this what other people mean when they say they’re drawn to Enjolras? To his warmth?

                   ❝ Thank you. Saves me the embarrassment of ordering takeout from the same restaurant three nights in a row, ❞     he jokes with a small smile. From the other times he’s visited Cosette’s house he already knows where the silverware is; he finds & opens the drawer easily.     ❝ Should I set a place for Cosette too or is she out tonight? ❞

    AN AMUSED CHUCKLE   floats past the old man’s  lips,   soft and  delighted  --   eyes flit downward to the  food  he’s  preparing,   head  SHAKING  slightly.  “--  goodness.   that must cost you a fortune.”    valjean remarked,  a sort of youthful,  ever-present  GLIMMER  to be found in his   exhausted  brown eyes.  “yet,  still.   it’s my pleasure.  company  always  does the  heart  good.”      once he’s finished  checking on the  food,  he goes into a separate  drawer  in order to bring out  nice  tablecloths  for each  seat at the table. 

WHENEVER JAVERT SAYS  something that seems to astound the old man,  he almost gives him an expression of  pure,   unbelieving  wonderment,  as if the other has something new up his sleeve to  show  valjean  at any given moment, during any given day.    he soft - of  CHUCKLES,  shakes his head in  disbelief;  how was it that the  policeman  had allowed himself to become so very   hard - hearted?    “do you imply that i lie,  then?  i am not attempting to   con you,   javert;   our  relationship  is one i delight in,  and i truly am glad to see you.”

                   Enjolras turns, eyes wide in embarrassed surprise as Valjean approaches him with warm clothes. In the colder months it hasn’t really occurred to him to buy a warmer jacket –––– he continues to wear his signature red leather one, for appearance’s sake –––– & he’s grown so used to it that the offering catches him off guard. As does the follow-up question.     ❝ Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude –––– I’m sure you’ve seen enough of me traipsing in & out of here over the past few days, ❞     he says with a small, sympathetic smile. 

   JOVIAL  LAUGH   --   oh,  it sounds akin to  ringing bells,  delightful and familiar!  --  passes the old man’s  lips,   and in  quite the friendly manner,  he clasps  enjolras’s   shoulder    ( grip much stronger than one might expect from such a gentle fellow! )    and smiles.     “no,   no,    never enough!   where would you get such an  idea?     any  friend to cosette is a  friend of mine;      and i do hope you know  that you  are  welcome here any hour of the  day.      we could never  refuse  you.”       seeming pleased,   he gives  enjolras a playful little  PAT   before  moving on  into  the  kitchen.    

 ❛   OH HEAVENS no ! it’s an odd sort of equality, innit : hard times come for all.   ❜      there’s a pensive air to the girl, and she rocks back on heels,     ❛   BUT i reckon i could count out a couple folk who’d rather them hard times come with money, rather than without.   ❜      

here, the man draws a hearty laugh from her chest — ❛   I LEAD a fine life, good sir ! what might suggest otherwise ?   ❜

  “WHY  --    YES.    that is one way to put it  -   what an interesting perspective that is.”     his own contemplative air  matches her  pensive one:    hand raises to somewhat  absentmindedly  rub his chin,   gaze momentarily  darting up toward the  ceiling  as he  thinks of this   revelation.    “oh,   believe me,   my dear child:  me  too.”

In a way that seems utterly bizarre to Javert, that smile is more effective as apology than any words. It’s almost easy to accept, to move on. Too late he remembers: that’s what Valjean does. The only point of interrogation is whether it’s deliberate on his part. Javert believes it is yet finds himself wanting to think the opposite. To avoid zooming in on that oddity he fixes his gaze somewhere to the left of Valjean’s ear.

“No, it’s how the law works.” He’s just as wry in return. He wouldn’t mind so much if he’d at least have his integrity acknowledged. He’d never stitch anyone up, no matter how much hate was between them. “Keep your nose clean and you don’t have to worry about me.” And vice versa. Javert cautiously follows to the counter. “Hmm. Yes— how did you know?”

   “WHY,   OF COURSE,  MY FRIEND.”   the old man acknowledges  with a scoff,  pattering  around in the  kitchen,  preparing the other’s beverage.     “yet i fear you pointedly  search  for  offense in me.   i am an old,   peaceful  fellow --”  a  glance  is sent  javert’s  way,   if only  to communicate  the  integrity of his words,    “ --    and i am like all the others:    searching only to live as peacefully as i claim  to be,  and  take care of my  responsibilities.     if the day ever comes that i  do break the law,   i will  offer my wrists to you with   dignity.    yet,   still.   can you  not  allow your back  to slacken  on your  watch of me,   if only for the  morning?      your intensity gives me  secondhand  fatigue,   and the day has not yet even begun.”    it’s a soft,  slightly playful  remark:   valjean  says it not in  malice,   but in  hope  that perhaps  javert would   calm down   enough  to simply enjoy the cup of coffee he was soon to give him!    “and i,   of course,   say this not to offend, lieutenant.”

“ah.   call it intuition.”     drink is  poured,    perfectly  warm.   valjean  rejoins him at the table,  offering it to him before  returning to his  own  cooler  mug.    “well,    enjoy.” 

   dismayed wandering child ,  oh what haunts you  ?  amidst the tumultuous surroundings ,  she is a panicked frantic lark  in a gilded cage yet they shed their veneer and reveal rusted iron , bent  &  unforgiving.  they all bestow their adoring eyes upon her , to hear the seraphic hymnals  !  (  ACT II AWAITS. PHANTASMAL INTERFERENCE , HIS IRE HAS BEEN TRIFLED WITH.    )   eyes habitually darting to the rafters far too many times , far too numerous to recount  ;  ivory complexion absent of any florid hue , an unrelenting heart akin to a hummingbird’s wings in flight.  softest of touches evokes a jolt ,  songstress with her wide , bewildered doe eyes latching unto monsieur valjean.  mouth parched , seams tearing  ;  a quick nod  almost too eagerly clutching to his coat to be led away.  it is as if she can sense his look upon her , an umber gaze alight with fury  for his prodigy must sing  !   she is not his property.  she refuses to be so. (   and that was what it was was it not  ?  am i only an instrument to you  ?  sinew pulled taut to perform his bidding the song in her soul debilitating , bereft of any joy.   your marionette  ?  are you blind to the anguish you drowned me in  ?  do you care .  )

  ❛  m - monsieur valjean please , please i do not wish to perform  ❜  a vehement plea  hushed in the loudest whispers , accompany a look harboring so much distress ,  pleading , pleading  !   for she confided in him ,  looked to him for guidance a parental love in which death robbed her of. oh there would never be a replacement , but to feel just an inkling of what she was starved of  ;  a symphony rejoices.   ❛    i cannot ,  my soul forbids it.  ❜   it is shrouded by fear , the garden wilting under odious air , something betwixt her ribcage is creeping ,  threatening the light which prevails .  a warbling tone , iridescent look   ❛   please , i do not know what to do.    ❜

    O  EMPATHETIC  BEING !    her pain is his  --   as he guides her through the  crowd,    carefully not to  bump into anyone,   lips  muttering  excuse mes  and  pardons,     she remains in the corner of his eye,   under his  safe watch!  it is now  utter  instinct  to protect  those in situations such as  these,   and  o,  what a   lamb,   what an  angel  this christine was!      all he wanted was to protect her.      quickly,   they rounded a corner to a more  SECLUDED  part of the  main  room,    and valjean  rushed  to  pull up a cushioned  chair  for her  to sit in   before   snagging  a  glass of  water  from one of the many   servers making the  rounds.          the old man  took a  knee in front of her,    offering her the  drink,    his eyes    COMPASSIONATE.