Small sacrifices. Eponine rolls her eyes bitterly, trying not to let out a small chuckle at that. This wasn't a small sacrafice on her part. It wasn't even a sacrafice. It was straight-up torture. Torture she hadn't even picked herself. Sure, the alcohol was out of her system, and the physical aspects of withdrawal were gone, but the mental part? She was still suffering. And would be for some time.

"Small sacrifices like actually taking your sunglasses off for once?" She managed to say instead. Sure, he wore his glasses to cover up his eyes, but she happened to like them. Plus, they matched their outfits.

Eponine dropped her head, looking at her hands over the top of the table cloth. She could feel the heat from her cheeks. "Ah, yeah. You did. A few times, actually." She felt strange, all dolled up like this. Last time had been the Apollo dance, and Courfeyrac had been the one to spend hours on her. He'd been rewarded with some kisses, and her biting back tears at how unlike herself she'd looked in the mirror. This time, it had been all Eponine.