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1. …good morning.
Montparnasse woke her with a kiss that tasted and burned like alcohol, his fingers still smelling faintly of blood and unfamiliarity from whatever job he’d been at all night. Éponine grunted awake, not sure if it was a greeting or a warning from him. She never knew.
2. …goodnight.
Under that damn bridge they always ended up under, her, half-covered in rags, and him, trying to button back up his waistcoat. Her hands were up his shirt and one of his still her hair. She leaned down, her lips grazing his collarbone before the last button slid into its hole.
3. …goodbye.
He caught her jaw, kissed her hard enough to bruise it, and left without looking back, his boots clicking away into the fog. She couldn’t tell if he meant to come back at all.
4. …where it hurts.
His lips pressed against the scab on her temple from a thrown stone, slow enough to sting, as though savoring her flinch.
5. …where it doesn’t hurt.
He stared at her for a moment, her breath quick and a look in her eyes that could only be, "I need this," and with a single motion he kissed the hollow under her jaw, the one place untouched by bruises, and she wondered if that was mercy or just preference.
6. …on a falling tear.
Her tears had barely cleared her cheek before his mouth found them, drinking in the salt as if it were wine. She grabbed at his waist as if she was trying to hug him and poorly hiding it as a lustful motion.
7. …to shut them up.
"Go to hell," she grumbled and with that a quiet few taps fell from his tongue and he pulled her head toward him swiftly and his lips met hers. He mumbled into her mouth, "Quiet."
8. …in secrecy.
In the narrow slit of an alley between two rotting shutters, his lips found hers where no one could see, though his laughter still echoed off the bricks.
9. …in public.
One more look from Glorieux at her and he took her hands and kissed her in front of them, eyes open, like he was daring them to question whether she was his or not.
10. …desperately.
The kiss came in a rush after the police had passed, both of them breathless and wide-eyed, her fists still curled in his coat around a knife.
11. …in joy.
They’d made it over the wall with the loot intact. He laughed into her mouth, the sound jagged and too loud for the night. She slapped his back and pulled away, moving, going straight to his jugular.
12. …in grief.
She was shaking, Pousssagrive was lying cold in the gutter with a bullet to the head and it was probably her fault. He pulled her to him and kissed her anyway, tasting ash and snot and loss. "You're such a terrible lookout..." he muttered, twisting her hair in a coil around his finger.
13. …discreetly.
Just a brush of his lips against her ear in a crowded tavern, barely noticed — except by her. Her face felt hot, she wasn't quite sure if it was the liquor or that handsome boy beside her.
14. …casually.
He kissed her like one might flick dust from a sleeve, lips barely touching before he turned away on his heel with that smugness that made her want to wring his neck.
15. …passionately.
There was nothing soft in it; his teeth grazed hers, and she bit back until they both tasted blood.
16. …lazily.
Half-asleep in the sunlight leaking into a squat, he leaned over and kissed her without even opening his eyes. "Why are you in my bed," he grumbled.
17. …to distract.
The constable’s gaze was turning toward her. Montparnasse caught her lips and forced her to lean into him, hiding her face under his hat’s brim.
18. …as encouragement.
“Be good” he murmured against her mouth before pushing her towards her mark.
19. …for luck.
Before she climbed through the window, he kissed her hard, grinning like it would keep the knives away.
20. …on a scar.
His lips lingered on the rough ridge along her forearm, his expression unreadable in the half-light.
21. …on a place of insecurity.
He kissed the gap where one of her teeth was gone, not gently, almost mocking. She didn't mind.
22. …in a rush of adrenaline.
They’d both just run from the guards, their hearts pounding; he caught her face and kissed her like a man claiming victory.
23. …in relief.
When she stumbled back into his arms after two weeks missing to him, he kissed her without a word, as though confirming she was real.
24. …in danger.
With the knife still pressed to her ribs by a stranger, Montparnasse yanked her in and kissed her, a distraction or a dare to the man holding her.
25. …as a ‘yes’.
She didn’t say the word; she just pressed her mouth to his and let him take it as agreement.
26. …as an apology.
No words, only the press of his lips against hers after he’d nearly gotten her arrested.
27. …as a suggestion.
The kiss was slow, curling, followed by the whisper of an address she knew meant trouble.
28. …as a lie.
He kissed her sweetly after promising to return; she knew better, but kissed back anyway.
29. …as a promise.
For once, his mouth was steady against hers. She wanted to believe it meant something.
30. …as comfort.
He pulled her close, lips warm on her hairline, when her stomach cramped from going without food.
31. …after a small rejection.
She told him no. He kissed her anyway, light but lingering, as though rewriting her answer.
32. …to wake up.
Her eyes opened to find his mouth on hers, his hand in her hair, and daylight creeping across the floor.
33. …forcefully.
He shoved her back against the railing, mouth rough, as if he could take what he wanted faster that way.
34. …to pretend.
They played lovers for the mark watching them, the kiss deep enough to look real from across the street.
35. …to gain something.
She let him kiss her in exchange for the knife in his pocket, the blade she needed more than her pride.
36. …to give up control.
He kissed her until she forgot what she was holding in her fist, until it clattered to the floor.
37. …without a motive.
Once — only once — he kissed her for no reason she could name, and it unsettled her more than anything.
38. …because they’re running out of time.
The boots were already thundering on the stairs; he crushed his mouth to hers before leaping for the window.
39. …because time’s run out.
She was bleeding too much. He kissed her anyway, one hand cradling her head, as though it would change the ending.
40. …because the world is ending.
The riot was spilling through the streets, fire at their backs; they kissed in the chaos, clinging like it mattered.
41. …because the world is saved.
They’d gotten away with it, somehow. His laugh split into a kiss before the relief could wear off.
42. …out of pride.
In front of others, he pulled her in and kissed her, staking a claim without saying a word.
43. …out of greed.
He kissed her just to get his hands on the purse tied at her waist, unaware there was nothing in it.
44. …out of lust.
The kiss burned hot and impatient, teeth and breath and nothing else on his mind.
45. …out of anger.
His mouth slammed against hers after an argument, more bruise than kiss.
46. …out of envy or jealousy.
He’d seen her talking to another man. His kiss was sharp, punishing.
47. …out of spite.
He kissed her in front of someone she hated, watching her stiffen under his hand.
48. …out of habit.
Like lighting a match — thoughtless, mechanical, done without a second’s pause.
49. …out of necessity.
They needed to look like a couple to get past the guards, so he kissed her without ceremony.
50. …out of love.
If it was love, it was the kind that limped and bled, but for one moment his lips were soft and she let herself believe.