Eponine was not used to waking up in a bed that was not her own.

Not that it had not happened before. Those instances were usually slip-ups: she succumbed to sleep before her partner did. She never failed, luckily, to wake up before him so that she could sneak away with a priciest belonging he had. Considering the company she kept, the priciest belonging was barely enough for more than five sous and her parents scoffed at her attempt at petty theft. The only man she slept with she did not steal from was Montparnasse, but then he knew better than to fall asleep. In fact, he was the one who taught her the scheme.

And so when she woke up to the sunlight touching her eyes in a bed softer than the one she knew, she bolted upright. She had to get out of here. Now. Fast. Before the owner of the bed woke up. She had no time to loot his stuff. She had to find her clothes—

That was when Eponine looked down and saw that she was still wearing her clothes.

"'Ponine?" called a familiar, yet sleepy voice.

Eponine glanced behind her to see Marius tiredly rubbing his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

Then Eponine recalled how Marius caught her running an errand for her father near his apartment just before the rainstorm hit, and how he had invited her inside to wait out the storm, and how she had teased him through his studies and dared to rest her head upon his shoulder…

She felt her face flush. "No, nothing. I just forgot where I was for a moment."

He reached out his arm towards her with a soft smile, inviting her to lay back down with him. So she did, cuddled against his chest and his arms wrapped around her gently.

Her father's letters could wait a little bit longer.