“You can hunt?” Eponine asks, fascinated. “Only men can where I am from, but there ain’t nothing to hunt anyway, except rats and that. Me, I live in Paris. She ain’t nice, except if you are rich. But everything is nice if you are rich.”
Eponine shrugs. She wouldn’t mind being a slave really, not if it meant a roof and a bed and regular food. She has the loosest grasp on slavery, but honestly, compared to the knowledge that she will die soon, and probably painfully, she’ll take it.
“Do you think? I’ve always wanted to be pretty. I’d do anything to have nice hair and pretty teeth. I sold some, you know? Teeth? I bought brandy and my Pa were mad when I couldn’t give him all the money for ‘em. So then it were a sore arse to go with my sore mouth.”
She laughs ruefully. “I’d still like to be pretty. Do you trust me, though, because I am ugly?”
CW: DV
Eponine shrugs. She wouldn’t mind being a slave really, not if it meant a roof and a bed and regular food. She has the loosest grasp on slavery, but honestly, compared to the knowledge that she will die soon, and probably painfully, she’ll take it.
“Do you think? I’ve always wanted to be pretty. I’d do anything to have nice hair and pretty teeth. I sold some, you know? Teeth? I bought brandy and my Pa were mad when I couldn’t give him all the money for ‘em. So then it were a sore arse to go with my sore mouth.”
She laughs ruefully. “I’d still like to be pretty. Do you trust me, though, because I am ugly?”