Work Text:
Eponine and Combeferre woke up to the sound of rain. It was a Saturday morning, thank God. Eponine groaned and curled further into Combeferre, who was perfectly happy to wrap his arms around her slight frame and go back to sleep.
An hour later, they were awoken by the sound of thunder. They shared a glance, and Eponine broke out into a dangerous grin. She loved thunderstorms; had since she was little. When they had lived in the country and she was younger, she would run in the rain, not caring that she was soaking wet, and not caring (yet) that her mother was going to yell at her when she got back in for tracking mud into the inn. Combeferre almost whimpered -- that was a scary look she was giving him, and not the kind where you were scared for yourself but the kind where you just knew your friend had a master plan that could potentially be very, very scary.
Eponine winked, slid his glasses onto his face (poking him in the eyebrow), kissed him on the nose, and slid out of bed, no doubt to plan how the thunder and lightning would accelerate her plan to take over the world, most likely using a questionable-looking machine she'd built to help her. He groaned and buried his face into his pillow -- dealing with his crazy girlfriend's evil plans would take a few liters of caffeine.
"What are you planning on doing today?" Eponine asked, curled up lengthwise on the sofa with a huge bowl of popcorn. She'd taken a shower and her hair was soaking wet, dampening the cushions behind her. He smiled and sat down next to her, extending his legs so they trapped her against the arm of the chair.
"Reading, I think," he answered, running a hand through his bedhead. He'd changed into a fresh shirt and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms, but he couldn't be bothered to attack the rat's nest on his head unless they were going somewhere. She ran her fingers along the top of his foot, and it tickled. He twitched his foot and she giggled. She got more beautiful every day, he swore to God.
"Ugh, you're so boring," she whined, dropping her head back to rest on the arm of the couch. He shrugged.
"Hmm."
An hour later, Combeferre was reading peacefully, and he thought Eponine was asleep -- until he felt something hit his shoulder. He looked up questioningly and felt another thing hit his nose. Eponine raised her arms and cheered.
"Score!" She was throwing her popcorn at him. He rolled his eyes and looked back to his book only for a moment before he raised his head and caught a piece of popcorn in his mouth. She kept tossing bits of popcorn until he finally memorized his page nunber, tossed the book aside, and attacked her, pinning her wrists to the couch and straddling her hips. The bowl tipped off the couch, spilling popcorn everywhere. They were both laughing breathlessly.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you to never tickle a sleeping dragon?" he asked playfully, staring down at her.
"You dork, that's the Hogwarts motto," she replied, stretching up to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss -- he'd taught her well.