Who: Scootaloo and Éponine Thénardier What: Attempts at apologising When: After these texts Where: The Thénardiers’ flat. Rating: Standard Thénardier warnings apply, mentions of abuse. Otherwise, PG13! Status: Complete!
Scoot sighed and got himself dressed before going out. He grabbed his wallet and jacket and umbrella because of the rain and headed out. He went to a store first, for flowers, a little stuffed baby seal toy he thought she’d find cute, and he bought a tub of ice cream for them to split. And hell, just to be safe he got two bowls and two spoons for it. He had to fix this, just had to.
The very idea that he’d upset her was enough to drive him to dysphoria. Over not being a proper man who knew these things. Over his body playing hell against him. Hormones and everything. And to think he’d been so excited that his facial hair was coming in and his voice was getting deeper. None of that felt important.
Seiya shook his head but let him in when he knocked on the door, and he went right to her room. Scoot had been told she’d started crying and ran to her room so... that just killed his heart even more. He gently tapped at the door. “Éponine...”
Could you honestly blame her? Éponine had thought he was better than this, that he was that little bit more considerate than other men... to use a threat like that had simply brought back terrible memories - not enough to trigger, but more than enough to make her cry.
Actually being allowed to do that was a strange concept. It helped, a little. When she heard his voice, she barely repressed the urge to ignore him. “What do you want...?”
“Let me in please... I want to try and apologise. Want to talk...” Hearing the tears in her voice made him tense and want to just leaving the things at her door and go. “I brought ice cream... That cherry cheesecake kind. The one you said was your fave... I don’t remember when you said it. Just... I’m sorry. I can leave it at the door.”
And dammit, now he feels like crying and it’s making his voice crack and go all squeaky. He bit his lip and pushed his head gently to the door. “Éponine... please open the door.”
There was silence for a moment. Éponine pushed herself up off the bed, doing what she could to disguise the evidence of her tears, and opened the door. “I... didn’t think you remembered me saying that.”
Especially since she’d said it all of once.
He could see the tears, but chose not to comment. “I remember weird things and forget important ones. Like treating my girlfriend as more than just a friend... Treating her like the special woman she is to me. I’m sorry.. I was an ass..” He held up the flowers and the stuffed baby seal. Only because she’d taken an interest in the picture of the baby seal on their date at the zoo.
“Can I come in... the ice cream is making my chest cold.” And the fact his nipples were getting annoyingly hard from it was spiking his dysphoria like mad. Something he was trying to ignore.
Éponine nodded and stepped back from the door, just so he could come in. “As long as you shut the door behind you. I... don’t really think I can face anyone else here today.”
When she got emotional, she tended to shut herself in like this. It was nothing short of a small miracle that she’d even considered letting Scootaloo in with her... even more of one that she’d gone ahead and agreed with it.
He did just that, shutting it with his foot before setting the bowls and icecream down. She hadn’t taken the stuffed animal or the flowers yet, so he just moved over to set them on the bed before going back to serve the ice cream. “I made sure to get you a red bowl... since you’d said it was your fave too.” And he even got a little jar of the cherries for on top. He struggled to open it, but when he managed he put about 7 on for her and set the bowl beside her before serving himself and sitting on the chair turned backwards about 3 feet from the bed.
“I’m really sorry. I’m not going to say I didn’t mean what I said... I’m apologising for how it came out. They increased the dose of Testosterone I take and... It made me hot headed. I meant to say that I want you to help because I’m not good at this. That I want us to try and work to get closer... Not in the just friends stage. I want your help being a better boyfriend.”
He put his head down and focused on the ice cream. “Wouldn’t blame you if you wanted a real man though...”
How did he remember stuff like this...? It was pretty impressive, Éponine would admit that much. “...There’s nothing about you that stops you being a real man. Even if your body’s not exactly what it should be, you’re... still a man. Still someone I genuinely want to be with.”
True, what he’d said had hurt, but she could easily recover. She’d had worse things said to her, and even worse things done.
“Don’t know how you can still want me. The mood issues are only going to get worse before they get better.” Focused on his ice cream, doing his best to avoid the strong sense of dysphoria this has given him. “I still want to be with you too...” He really did, but sometimes felt she deserved so much more. And trying to tell her how much he thought she deserved was awkward. “If I ever... get too much, just tell me. I’d understand.”
Talking about feelings like this was good, wasn’t it? It’d help their relationship in the long run, Éponine was fairly sure of that. “I don’t think you’ll ever get too much... I can take a lot, you know, and... I don’t know, maybe I could help you with your more irritable moments.”
She wasn’t sure how she’d manage that, but there’d be something. There always was.
“I still really like you... And I’m an idiot for hurting you in the first place.” No one could convince him otherwise. He set the ice cream bowl aside and put his head into his arms folded on the back of the chair. Mostly because dammit the dysphoria was so bad he couldn’t fucking breathe. Dysphoria and the guilt from hurting her, adding with the testosterone levels still changing and fluxing in his body.
That was all it took for Éponine to get back up and come over to him. There had to be a way of helping him... she had no idea what helped things like dysphoria, but dammit, she was going to find something that did help... “Let me help you... please.”
“Don’t know how to help me. No help for me. Not that you’d let me do in front of you.” He sighed and looked up at her, the overwhelming pain behind his eyes more than obvious. “Do you forgive me for being a sorry excuse for a man and a boyfriend?”
Let him do what in front of her? ...Actually, on second thoughts, Éponine wasn’t going to give that too much thought. The pain in his eyes was almost physically painful to see... and it made what she did next almost impossible to avoid.
Words were irrelevant right now. What mattered was making him feel better. As such, she moved to kiss him, keeping it as gentle as she could - no sense in overwhelming him.
The kiss was rather unexpected, but he did lean into it, and tangled his hand in her hair for good measure. That was nice, real nice. For a few moments of it he forgot the dysphoria and knew only the kissing that was going on. Knew only the gentle warmth of her lips, the softness that were against his own. The way she smelled, the feel of his fingers in her hair, resting against the warmth of her scalp. He’d never had a kiss before, so the sensation was more than pleasant.
When Éponine pulled away, she didn’t go far. The feel of his hand in her hair was nice, she’d admit, and a far cry from what she’d been forced to become used to over the years. “I don’t know if that helped, but... I’m glad you let me.”
In fact, for someone who she was fairly sure had never been kissed before, he’d managed pretty decently. It’d felt good, at least partially in ways that she hadn’t expected.
“That actually helped quite a lot...” He stood, not removing his hand at all and pulled her to the bed and into it before gently pulling her into an embrace. His arms strong and warm around her form. Cuddling for the win!
Cuddling most definitely for the win! This felt nice, and again, in way that Éponine really couldn’t explain. She felt safe around him, which was an incredibly rare thing... “And this’ll help more? Maybe?”
“I hope so...” Gently pushed his head above hers and let out a contented sigh. “I really am sorry... I didn’t mean to be a terrible boyfriend...”
“You aren’t a terrible boyfriend...” Éponine would do all she could to convince him of that. One thing like this didn’t make it true.