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Magic happens at midnight.
Cosette’s known this since she was young; it’s common knowledge in any magical household. Her maman was a witch and so Cosette’s been ready for her abilities since she first learned about magic. Her maman always told her to make any wishes that were important to her at midnight.
That’s when they’re most likely to come true.
Now, Cosette definitely believes in the midnight theory, but that’s just her reason if someone asks what she’s doing.
Which would be a reasonable question for them to ask, since she’s sitting on top of her dorm building’s roof.
Her maman may believe that midnight is the magic hour, but Cosette likes to think that midnight plus the night sky equals magic. She’s tried making her wish before while tucked inside her star-patterned bedspread, but she doesn’t get that tingly feeling she does when she’s outside, so that must make her wish shit.
What is Cosette wishing for, you may ask?
That’s none of your damn business, she’d reply, and then she fantasizes she’d like to take off her powder-blue wedge-heeled boot and chuck it at your face.
She’s not sure whether she’d actually do it or not.
Regardless, Cosette’s wished for the same thing for the last four years.
Éponine Thénardier.
Cosette has always admired Éponine Thernadier, which is exactly why Éponine's hate for Cosette concerns her so much.
When Cosette first started noticing girls, she was in the tenth grade. She’d gone to one of the best boarding schools for young witches at her maman’s insistence, since Fantine had wanted her to learn how to harness her magic (Cosette thinks Fantine just wanted her to learn how to not set their enchanted pots on fire when cooking).
The one problem about boarding schools?
Roommates.
Cosette had only had one relationship at that point; a boyfriend named Marius in her freshman year of high school. Sure, he was sweet, but the two of them were too similar to work together. She would’ve stayed with him for a while longer, but he realized he had a crush on his best friend and she realized she had a crush on her roommate, so they stopped dating. They were still friends after; the only difference in their relationship was that they didn’t feel obligated to kiss whenever their friends were around (or at all).
Her roommate’s name was Alaya, and she was amazing.
She had tan skin and dark hair, and lots of moles and freckles. She permanently had yellow glitter stuck to her neck, and Cosette’s heart sped up whenever she felt bold enough to step close and swipe the glitter off Alaya’s skin.
Cosette tried to kiss her the day before winter break, and Alaya was so painfully sweet about letting Cosette down that she fled in mortification and convinced the school board into letting her live with her maman for the rest of sophomore year.
For her junior year, the school insisted she come back to the dorms. That was the year she roomed with Éponine.
Oh my god, they were roommates.
Needless to say, Cosette had quite a time that year with trying not to shove Éponine against their door and make out with her.
Cut through senior year and the first two years of uni, with assorted roommates along the way, and Cosette’s finally got her own room. She discovered her talent in junior year (materials magic) and runs a small boutique off-campus comprised of dresses and clothes she’s made with her magic. Half of the boutique is also a bakery that she shares with her best friend, Enjolras, who doesn’t have magic but bakes as a stress-reliever (he’s very involved in politics).
Éponine’s at the same university as Cosette, but Cosette rarely sees her anymore. They pass each other when they’re going through the campus garden or the spells library, but Éponine makes an effort not to look at Cosette and Cosette tries not to get upset about it.
So now, Cosette’s tucked into a blanket nest up on the roof of her dorm building with a thermos of hot chocolate steaming next to her and one of her projects in her lap, studying the stars as her needles weave and dance through deep blue fabric. She feels stupid sometimes about the amount of wishes she’s made involving Éponine over the years, but Fantine always told her she could do whatever she wanted with her wishes, and so she does.
And then Éponine Thernadier herself clambers onto the roof.
“How did you --” Cosette starts, but Éponine waves her hand to cut her off while she crawls over to hunch next to Cosette, stealing a gulp of cocoa from her thermos.
“First off, why aren’t you drinking coffee? This stuff is shit. Secondly, before you ask, I climbed the fire escape next to your window. You’re not as high up as you think.”
“Coffee is nasty.”
“You’re nasty.”
Cosette tries to stop her automatic eyeroll.
She fails.
“Wait, how do you know which room’s mine?” Cosette asks curiously, tilting her head.
She would swear Éponine blushes, but the stars aren’t being helpful tonight and Éponine’s skin is dark enough that she can’t tell for sure.
“Magic,” Éponine deadpans.
Another eyeroll.
“So, what did you need?” Cosette pushes, absentmindedly snapping her fingers to stop the clicking of her needles.
“Look, I know you hate me --”
“I don’t --”
“Don’t interrupt --”
“But --”
“-- but would you maybe consider helping me with something?” Éponine asks, scratching the palm of her hand and side-eyeing Cosette from where they’re perched next to each other on the roof.
Cosette pauses, unfurling her legs and draping them over the edge of the roof, into the open air. “It depends --” she starts swinging her legs -- “on what you need help with,” she says cautiously, trying desperately to be casual.
“Well, it’s my little sister Azelma’s sixteenth birthday soon,” Éponine reveals, “and since our family is just me and her and my little brother --” she challenges Cosette to judge her by the set of her mouth -- “I wanted to make her a fancy dress because we haven’t had enough money for one before.” she grits out, glaring at the sky.
“That’s so sweet,” Cosette gushes, and flaps her hands around when Éponine glowers at her. “I’m not making fun or mocking you or anything!” Cosette blurts. “My maman did the same for me when I turned sixteen and it’s just so sweet that you want to do that for your sister.”
Éponine blinks.
“So, what did you want my help with?”
“I’m pretty shit at sewing.” Éponine says flatly.
“Okay...”
“And... and I’ve heard you’re the best fabric witch around uni and ‘Zel’s birthday party is on Saturday, and I’m so sorry to ask with it being Tuesday already but I've had so much spellwork and Gav was in the hospital over the weekend for jumping out of his window and trying to be Peter Pan and I --”
“Éponine,” Cosette cuts in. “Chill. I don’t mind making a dress for your little sister. In fact, I’d be honored,” she admits, a flush flooding up her neck and chest, and she’s so thankful she’s wearing a high-necked sweater.
“Oh,” Éponine huffs out. “Alright. Okay. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem,” Cosette promises. “Let’s plan this dress.”
***
(And if Cosette skips out on Thursday’s spellwork and gets kitchen duty on Sunday, her least favorite because she hates wrinkly fingers, just to finish Azelma’s dress, well, no one has to know but her.)
***
“You really didn’t have to do this,” Éponine breathes when she sees the dress, her eyes sparkling and cheeks dark.
The dress is a fountain of purple satin with a thin gold tulle overlay and hundreds of spell-stitched crystals, and Cosette’s honestly forgotten how long it took her to make it. She hasn’t eaten a proper meal since Tuesday afternoon. “It was my pleasure,” Cosette murmurs, flipping her favorite needle in her fingers over and over again to keep her hands busy. Her fingers are twitching, and she wants to trace them across Éponine’s freckled cheeks and tangle them into Éponine’s frizzy hair.
“No, really,” Éponine looks up from the dress where she’s stroking it delicately. “You really didn’t, and I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate it. ‘Zel’s gonna love it,” she gushes. Éponine takes a breath and gathers the dress in her arms. “Well, thank you again. I’ll get out of your hair now; I'm sorry again for having to ask you, I'm probably annoying you so I'll go.”
Cosette watches Éponine walking away and only once she’s almost at Cosette’s dorm door do Éponine’s words register. “Éponine!” she blurts out.
Éponine stops, but she won’t turn around.
“Éponine, I – I don’t hate you.”
“Don’t lie to me, Cosette,” Éponine laughs bitterly.
“I’m not, I promise. I don’t know what I’ve done to make you think that, but god, Éponine, there’s no way I could hate you. I’ve wished to. It doesn’t work.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” Cosette wants to leave, she wants to, but Éponine’s still standing in front of the door and that’s a bit of an issue.
“No, not nothing,” Éponine corrects fiercely, still refusing to turn around and look Cosette in the eye, which is good because Cosette probably wouldn’t be able to resist kissing her. “What do you mean, it doesn’t work?”
“I --”
Cosette can’t talk.
She physically can’t talk.
There’s a lump in her throat and Éponine’s turned around now and she’s glaring at her and her eyes are dark and now Cosette can’t think, either.
Then again, she’s never been able to think around Éponine.
Maybe that’s why Éponine’s convinced Cosette hates her?
“Just tell me,” Éponine hisses. “I can take it, however rude you think it is. I’m used to it.”
“I can’t.”
“Please, Cosette?” Éponine pleads, and Cosette can’t take it anymore.
She flies forward, tossing her needle onto her dresser. She wraps one arm around Éponine’s waist, backing her up against the closed door, and sinks the other hand into her hair and kisses her.
Cosette kisses Éponine, and she tingles from the tips of her uncontrollable curls to her peach-painted toenails.
The dress tumbles out of Éponine’s arms, poofing out to the floor and pooling around Cosette’s bare feet. She can feel the tulle on her ankles and hear the crickets outside through her open window and taste Éponine.
Éponine tastes like cinnamon and wishes.
And she’s not moving.
Cosette pulls back, head swimming, and bites her lip, trying to compose herself.
She kissed Éponine Thénardier.
If Éponine had kissed back Cosette would’ve sworn to the stars that Éponine hadn’t been able to hold back a tiny whine when Cosette pulled away, but Éponine didn’t kiss back, so Cosette can’t.
Éponine Thénardier didn’t kiss her back.
“I -- I had a crush on you.” Cosette blurts out, and her heart’ll probably beat right out her chest. “Had -- have – I still do,” she stutters. “I have a crush on you.”
Éponine’s still not moving.
“Look, Éponine, I know what you’re gonna say,” Cosette rambles, valiantly battling the tears that are waging a war by trying to stream out of her eyes. “It’s weird, and it’s gross, and I’m a pervert, so just let me get out of my own room and you can run away and we never have to talk --”
“I like you too,” Éponine breathes, her hands shaking at her sides and her eyebrows furrowing. “I always have.”
“Since when?”
“Oh, halfway through junior year?”
“Oh my god. Oh my god, we were roommates.”
“That’s probably why,” Éponine laughs sheepishly. “You and your sleeping shorts, Cosette Fauchelevent, are just too much for this gay to handle.”
“My pajamas? Didn’t you sleep with no shirt on?”
“You saw?” Éponine gasps.
“How could I not? You walked through our room and in front of my bed every single morning and refused to put a shirt on.”
“Oh, I did it on purpose; I just didn’t know you noticed. You never said anything.”
“Well, you never said you wanted to be pinned against a door and kissed, yet here we are.” Cosette smirks. “Do you want to go up to the roof?”
“Depends on what we’re doing on the roof.” Éponine returns, scraping her teeth across her bottom lip.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
***
“Have you ever tried midnight wishes?”
“Yeah, but I don’t need any more,” Éponine says, skimming her fingers over Cosette’s bare wrist and making her shiver in the summer air.
“Why not?” Cosette giggles.
“I’ve got all I ever wished for right here.”