A/N: This is a first fanfic, so if you happen to see any 'noobish' mistakes then it's expected. After all, I didn't even know what the fuck, ' Label 'meant. :L Embarrassing.
Anyhow, after watching Sweeney Todd...god knows how many time, I've finally written something, it's a short chapter ( I know) Call it the prologue if you like. But hell, it's going to gets betters xD No Violence, smut, Language in this bit. But I can guarantee there will be. And Probably a LOT of it. So if your a crazy voyeur than your like it very much. And if your just a 'Toddett' fan then your going to Lovett's it too. Undoubtedly. I guarantee it in fact.
Prologue.
The bitter hell of which was 's meat pie emporium and her company was more ghastly as well as difficult to be within than trying to survive in a country ruled as well as roamed by the Devil's living servants, in human form. Torture was one thing, a tiny thing in fact. Whips, chains and abuse were just a small amount of pure pain compared to the torture the barber had to suffer from the longing widowed baker. The constant knockings upon his barbershop door which echoed throughout the deathly room, tormented and brought the peril of knowing what was about to come, or the simple company of a humming woman in a loving day dream was enough to irritate him and cause his fingers to curl around to make fists to clench whilst his throat gave a growling of anger which made his Adams apple, bobble with the vibrations caused; or worst of all, the longing passionate looks of need she tried to somewhat discreetly give him as though a hint, yet she should know. She does know. That only his precious Lucy could give him that. His Lucy…
Nellie Lovett was nothing but a weight on his shoulders. A maid in fact to him. A whore. Nothing more and undoubtedly he was only being nice when he used the word which he used to describe the women which ventured London's streets. Yet she still somewhat had the determination to get what she wanted from him, although…most of the time he would ignore her requests of pleasure, and if he didn't ignore it...he would simply give a low grunt or growl which would cause her to jump by being startled by the sudden firm response and eventually get the point of his refusal. To the demon barber, her being so longing and needing of him was the most pathetic thing in all of his lifetime as Benjamin Barker and Sweeney Todd he could come across.
He Spat on that.
She had shown herself as nothing but a whore by the time he had arrived in return to London, to Fleet Street, where she kindly, disgustingly took him in with open arms and allowed him without a penny's charge to have as his own home the barber shop above her meat pie emporium. Although he was thankful of that, he did hate the fact how she tried to touch him. Tried to smell his raven coloured tangled hair with the bold streak embracing with the rest of his locks, which noticeably needed to be washed, combed and overall cared and tended for. Yet this woman didn't care. He didn't understand her. His head was irritated and angry with her. Whilst his body was just uncontrollable and if not for various rational thoughts popping into his head, he would kill her. If he didn't need her for his sinister deeds.