Eponine is happily at Michel's side. She'd gotten dressed in her finest dress, braided her hair with ribbons, and was thoroughly drunk. Hanging on his arm, Eponine can't seem to get close enough to her beloved, leaning up to kiss him every once in a while.

"Love is so beautiful," she managed, a brightness in her eyes left over from the ceremony. She'd cried. Don't tell anyone. "And the gardens." She paused for a moment, looking up at Michel. "Would we ever get married, my love?"