Enjolras wasn't a typical man. Most might have been oblivious. Marius certainly had been. But Enjolras was a whole other level of oblivious. Women weren't his thing. He didn't know how to deal with them. Which was ironic, given his two closest friends since arriving in America were women. But romantically? They completely flew over his head. He didn't know how they worked, how to romance a woman or how to be the sort of man they all fell for.
Apparently, that was more Marius. Typical.
"I do like her," he said, finishing Eponine's theory about how oblivious he actually was. "She's lovely. But I don't only spend time with her. And yes, we can talk books. But there are other things to talk about, too. And you...look how quickly you're learning things. Every time I talk to you, you learn more." He was smart, yes, but that wasn't where his strengths were. He could have gone into medicine if he'd wanted, but he'd chosen a different route.
He leaned in, then, his face falling a bit. She couldn't have known how much the little imp's name burned him. "He died," he said softly, his eyes closing, remembering the boy's brave final stand. "Gavroche. He died. He was trying to gather ammo for us. Not long after...after we lost you." The first to fall. They'd fought on in her name. And he hadn't ever truly known her. The brave girl who'd risked everything and put her life on the line for one man. What must that be like? To give up everything for love?
He hesitated, thinking along the lines she was. "What I wish is that I could bring them all here. Well," he added with a little laugh, "not all of them. But Grantaire. Marius. You could have a chance, then. She wouldn't be here, he'd have to see what an incredible woman you've become."