A phone? A smile starts spreading over her face. "For me? Really?" The other phone she'd stolen from that fae had proved useless after the first day: it was completely locked. She'd sold it for fae blood then. But this one...
"Does it have music on? Will you put me some on, Sir? Oh! I have always wanted my own music, my own phone."
She falls backwards on the bed, hugging the phone to her chest. She finds that tears prick her eyes, and despite blinking, they begin to fall. There's too much. He's too nice. Never, ever has anyone ever given her even half of what Joss has, not even her own parents.
When she begins to laugh, though, it's slightly hysterical. And she doesn't stop until long after he's left.
The next day at sundown, Eponine's ready and waiting for Joss. She's remarkably clean too: she's soaked in the bath for hours, and even attempted to wash her clothes in it too. They're still a bit damp, but it doesn't really matter. The shakes are bad though, her face more drawn than ever. She's going to have to get a hit tonight.
"Sir? Joscelin?" She asks when someone knocks on the door. "Is it you?"
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A phone? A smile starts spreading over her face. "For me? Really?" The other phone she'd stolen from that fae had proved useless after the first day: it was completely locked. She'd sold it for fae blood then. But this one...
"Does it have music on? Will you put me some on, Sir? Oh! I have always wanted my own music, my own phone."
She falls backwards on the bed, hugging the phone to her chest. She finds that tears prick her eyes, and despite blinking, they begin to fall. There's too much. He's too nice. Never, ever has anyone ever given her even half of what Joss has, not even her own parents.
When she begins to laugh, though, it's slightly hysterical. And she doesn't stop until long after he's left.
The next day at sundown, Eponine's ready and waiting for Joss. She's remarkably clean too: she's soaked in the bath for hours, and even attempted to wash her clothes in it too. They're still a bit damp, but it doesn't really matter. The shakes are bad though, her face more drawn than ever. She's going to have to get a hit tonight.
"Sir? Joscelin?" She asks when someone knocks on the door. "Is it you?"