Éponine Thénardier (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
filleauloup) wrote2017-06-06 06:47 am
filleauloup) wrote2017-06-06 06:47 am
Entry tags:
Serenity Cove, Just Before Dawn, Tuesday, June 6
Éponine never could sleep well on the night of June 5. Even when she did sleep it was restlessly, shot through with dreams of explosions and screaming and sulfur and cauterized flesh.
She hadn't slept at all last night, instead wandering all over the island with a bottle in one hand and a string of constant, half-coherent out-loud thoughts (on the stars, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore when she strayed close to the beach, anything at all) to fill the silence. And perhaps when she tired of being alone with her thoughts and she found herself at Serenity Cove as she somehow managed to do every year at this time she'd called Cosette, who hadn't complained about it being the middle of the night.
"Tell me what happened that night, if you can," she'd said instead, so as best she could remember, Éponine did. (Not all of it; there were things she couldn't quite remember, of course, and some she wasn't yet ready to explain.)
It helped more than she had expected it might, though not enough to keep her from staying awake. So here she was long after hanging up the phone, leaning back against a rock while she looked out at the water and finished off the last of her bottle of whiskey. Occasionally, she might raise her hand and stare at the palm, or the back of it, as if still surprised to see it intact and uninjured.
To tell the truth it somehow never entirely stopped being a surprise. Though not an unpleasant one.
[[Establishy, but open if you like with SP entirely likely.]]
She hadn't slept at all last night, instead wandering all over the island with a bottle in one hand and a string of constant, half-coherent out-loud thoughts (on the stars, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore when she strayed close to the beach, anything at all) to fill the silence. And perhaps when she tired of being alone with her thoughts and she found herself at Serenity Cove as she somehow managed to do every year at this time she'd called Cosette, who hadn't complained about it being the middle of the night.
"Tell me what happened that night, if you can," she'd said instead, so as best she could remember, Éponine did. (Not all of it; there were things she couldn't quite remember, of course, and some she wasn't yet ready to explain.)
It helped more than she had expected it might, though not enough to keep her from staying awake. So here she was long after hanging up the phone, leaning back against a rock while she looked out at the water and finished off the last of her bottle of whiskey. Occasionally, she might raise her hand and stare at the palm, or the back of it, as if still surprised to see it intact and uninjured.
To tell the truth it somehow never entirely stopped being a surprise. Though not an unpleasant one.
[[Establishy, but open if you like with SP entirely likely.]]