It's not a comfortable thing, or a particularly kind one, that Susan's first, instinctive reaction is Oh, for fuck's sake. She has to clamp down on that uncharitable impulse, that sense that it's just so unbelievably stupid to cry over something like that. She didn't cry when Nadine gave her chucklit that first time, after all, although it had been the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted and a kindness she'd sorely needed. So why should Eponine?

Because she's dreamed of it this long, Sue, and she's never had a thing of her own. The thought sounds achingly like her father's voice. So cut her some slack, won't you?

She sighs, and leans over to, a bit clumsily, put her arms around the smaller girl, patting her shoulder. "Hey. Hey, 'Ponine, don't cry. Hold up, I've got a kerchief somewhere, just wait..."