Enjolras walks into the garden a bit tentatively. He listens to the echoes of his steps, and considers leaving before Javert sees him.

The gardens are deserted but for the faint shuffling of men cleaning the area of the day's litter... and the dark shade of a man standing beneath the gleaming white statue of a beautiful young boy, in deep contrast. A glimmer of light from within the shadow would tell Enjolras he's been spotted.

Enjolras sighs slightly, giving in. He wonders, as he walks over to the statue, why he's come, because part of him doesn't want to see this admirer. The rest of him, however, is walking boldly towards Javert. "Bonjour."

Javert does not reply at first, but, extending a hand, there emerges from the darkness the image of a rose, which he hands to him swiftly, "Bonjour... and happy Valentine's day." comes the voice, it sounds quite humorous, the voice so used to sounding harsh, trying to sound soft.

Enjolras takes the rose, slightly confused about what to do with it. He tucks it into one of the fastenings of his vest. "Thank you. How have you been?"

Javert admires the contours of red against red, "I have been well, Marcelin... and you?"
Enjolras thinks about the question. "Better than some of my friends. They have been pestering me no end, this last week, to find a mistress."

Javert tilts his head imperceptably, "It would seem to me that that would be none of their concern."

Enjolras shrugs with half a sigh that could almost be a laugh. "They're always in and out of each other's business. It doesn't bother me most of the year, but they've been terribly persistent recently. I believe it bothers Grantaire more than me."

Javert says, "They bother him, as well? I would have thought he'd be in with the business."

Enjolras shakes his head. "He's quite protective of me. I can't fathom why."

Javert looks upon the form of the revolutionary, and can plainly see why one would be protective of him... but the thought of Grantaire's true feelings never come into his mind, as he considers this. "Perhaps he merely has a bit of sense in that area... he knows how they bother you to be wrong."

Enjolras shrugs again, and tries to change the subject away from his perennial annoyance. "I suppose I could have stopped their nagging if I told them about you. Somehow, I think that would have taken their minds off of mistresses."

Javert has a very strong feeling that Enjolras wouldn't dare to speak of such things with his group, and he voices this opinion, softly, smiling just a little.

Enjolras laughs. "They'd not understand. Really. They think that they know all there is to know about love, but I'm sure they'd not understand what there is between us."

Javert reaches out a hand to take Marcelin's gently. "I must agree. There are times I scarcely understand..."

Enjolras lets his hand be taken, wondering anew at the feeling of the larger palm against his with its calluses against the scholar's smooth skin. "I could easily say the same."

Javert feels the smoothness, and begins to want to break loose and just kiss him, like before, but he hangs back, and just holds the hand, "However... it does seem right, to me."

Enjolras strokes the back of the captive hand with his thumb. "Yes. Sometimes, it is perfect in its own odd way."

Javert smiles wider at the word... perfect... yes, that's exactly it. He tips his hat back, allowing the light that illuminates the statue to flood his face fully as he wonders at Enjolras, the more perfect of the two statues.

Enjolras smiles in response to Javert's lightening mood, partially to hide his lingering discomfort with the whole situation. It feels strange to him to have a tryst in a public place, whether or not the hour is late. "Where shall we go? What shall we do? Shall we stay here, sit and talk of nothing for hours? Would you like to stroll?"

Javert shifts his stance from one of rest to one allowing the possibility of motion. "I'd enjoy that..." though, he might have said that, had Enjolras suggested they take a walk in the sewers, so long as the invitation had issued forth from his mouth.

Enjolras glances up at the statue for a moment before looking at the path ahead and walking down it, slowly. "It's so beautiful in the moonlight." He leans his head against Javert's broad shoulder as they walk. "It's good to be with you."

Javert allows himself to be used as a pillow, and he enjoys it, "It is quite pleasing to see... and to be with you, as well."

Enjolras smiles in the darkness. "Valentine's day is so dull. After all, the point is to be with one's lover, but loving is best done in darkness, so it wastes the day in wishing."

Javert says, "A waste? Perhaps not a day wasted in wishing, but one full of anticipation?"

Enjolras rubs his cheek against the rough cloth of the greatcoat. "Perhaps, if one has the time for it. I had two different classes today to distract me from my hoping, and besides that I did not receive your letter until late."

Javert says, "I was then, perhaps, the luckier of us today... for when my day of hope began, my day of work was, for the most part, complete."

Enjolras kisses the sideburned cheek. "Yes. That was, indeed, quite lucky."