Bent over another customer, Sweeney Todd smirked to himself as he lathered the shaving cream onto the man's face. Luckily, this was a silent type of guy. He usually saw it fit to shave the face of men who didn't bother to try and talk to him, he kept his mind clear and focused. Slicing the razor across the man's face gracefully, the barber didn't notice the vibrations of his throat as he seemed to hum quietly.
When he was done, he quickly slashed through the jugular and relished in the fountain of red that rained upon him. NO matter how many times it had been done, Sweeney could not stop the feeling of pure joy, as if it were the first time again, of bloody rubies cascading down the necks of the unfortunate.
He stepped on the peddle and kept the trap door open long enough to hear the sweet, spine-tingling crunch of the skull. He was in a bad mood today. Why? Because its been months since the Judge had ran out of his shop in a fit of rage due to the sailor boy. He was so close.
He ground his teeth, the memory only increasing the soul killing pain of waiting for his second chance at revenge.
Downstairs, Nellie Lovett and Tobias Ragg scampered about the shop, trying to meet the demands of every customer that shouted his or her order. "Toby!" Lovett called as she came up the stairs to the bake house, a tray full of hot pies in hand. "Be a dear an' tend to the customers, would ya, love?" she aksed sweetly as she offered the tray.
The boy quickly took it and rushed a quick, "Sure thin', mum!" out of his mouth before hurrying out to the courtyard to serve the people. Sighing to herself tiredly, Mrs. Lovett grabbed a few slices of bread and little thing of jam for her barber's lunch. She froze, the thought hanging still in her empty head.
Her barber.
No, 'e'll never be yours,
she shakes her head slowly and sighs sadly. No, 'e'll always belong' to 'er. Always will be busy with the bloody Judge. She tells herself as tears begin to prickle at the corners of her eyes. The baker wipes them from her face and goes back to setting a tot of gin on the small, tarnished tray, stopping at her vanity mirror to make sure her face is clear of redness or any other sign of her tears. Clear of anything to upset him, Mrs. Lovett hurries up to her tenant's shop.
Like any other occasion she comes up to see him, she doesn't bother to knock as she let's herself in, a small smile plastered on her plump lips as the bells chimes dully. Again, he's at the window, brooding his life away and planning his mind to madness. He doesn't acknowledge her presence in the hollow room.
"Brought ya some breakfast, Mr. T." she offers casually, a low grunt her only reply. Rolling her eyes, Mrs. Lovett huffs quietly as she takes a few steps into the room, her heels clicking loudly behind her compared to the stale silence of the shop.
"Oh, come now, love. Ya can' scare 'im away with yer stomach a-screamin'." Silence is her answer. "Please, Mr. T, jus' a bite. Just so ya don' waste away a'fore ya can get 'im." she urges, her voice somewhat desperate and loving. Another pause between the two happens before he growls lowly, "On the vanity."
Mrs. Lovett doesn't wait to obey, setting the tray lightly on the vanity with the chattered mirror, a small smile on her face. When she stands, she merely stands there for a moment, staring at the barber's profile. Her pale complexion made her look tanned in comparison to his porcelain glow. Tha's pretty odd, now isn't it? she found herself thinking curiously. Seein' how 'es been Australia for fifteen years.
Her eyes flickered to his thin, chapped lips as he appeared to be muttering to himself. Oh, what she wouldn't give to feel those pale lips against her own...
The baker shivered at the thought, as if feeling the ghost-like tickle of the thin lips trail light as butterfly wings kisses up her neck. Mrs. Lovett's eyes slowly dragged from his lips to his mess of hair. The coal black strands flicked and curled every which way, the lighting stripe of pure white splashed across the pitch black canvas, displaying his pain and fear back in that horrible country. Oh, how long she yearned the feel of her small, bony fingers running his hair. Like angel woven silk, she mused as a dreamy smile spread across her face.
Suddenly, Sweeney's eyes shot to her, making her jump in surprise. "Well." he breathed darkly. "What are you still here for? Get out." he ordered through clenched teeth as he looked out the window once more.
Mrs. Lovett felt herself sigh sadly as her heart dropped slightly. No, please, just' let me look at you for a few more moments, just a few...
When she didn't take a step toward the door, the barber let out a yell of anger as he shoved up against the wall, the razor he'd been fiddling with at her neck. Her eyes widened in fear, knowing all too well how he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR? I SAID OUT, WOMAN!" Sweeney yelled in her face as he pressed the razor harder against her skin.
Mrs. Lovett flinched as she felt a powerful sting and the sensation of warm blood running down her throat, over her collar bone and disappearing down the front of her dress. He grinned evilly and threw her toward the door. "Now, OUT I SAY!" she flew out the door before he finished speaking.
The pair went about their day as usual, neither speaking to the other. Then, at the end of the day, the baker quickly worked to put together a light supper for the barber. Toby watched from one of the booths distastefully, half a bottle of gin in his hand. He doesn't know why she works so hard to try and please the man when she knows just as the sun comes over the horizon every morning that she could go around just in her kickers singing like the old Beggar woman and he wouldn't even look in her direction.
No, it always escapes the boy. Why? Why would she do it all for Mr. Sweeney Todd? He expects to die without a clue. "Mum," Toby speaks up clearly, careful as to ask his question so as not to upset her. "Yes, dear?" she breathes heavily as she bustles about the kitchen, looking for what she assumes is the barber's favorite foods from way back when.
The boy scratches the back of his head nervously. "Well, its jus'...I was thinkin' an' all an'...", "Come now, Toby dear, ya know you can talk to me 'bout anythin'." Mrs. Lovett quickly huffs in a hurry-up-and-come-out-with-it-would-ya! tone as she bends down to look through the cupboards
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. "Why do you love Mr. Todd when you know he'll never love you back?"
WHAM!
Mrs. Lovett curses loudly as she pulls out of the cupboard, rubbing the sore spot on the back of her head. She struggles to stand for a moment before she leans against the flour covered counter, staring down and sighing heavily. Toby blushes and looks away, thinking of apologizing after an awkward silence before she replies in a whisper,"You wouldn't understand, Toby."
He looks at his lap in a defeated fashion, his eyes closed in frustration, he knew what she meant. Living half his life in the work house with other boys-older boys-and the other half with Pirelli had him smart. He knew had his answer:
She was in love with Sweeney Todd.
Toby immediately regretted asking the first place. He sighed to himself, it didn't that he already had notion of the idea, but hearing it, as well as it being confirmed to him, it only made the pain of it that much more worse.
OK, guys I know nothing really happens, but believe me the next crappie will be an action-y one! Hope you all review and Lovett!
Sweeney: (winces) that's a terrible pun.
Me: NO its not, a lot of people use it, even though they don't use it correctly all the time.
Sweeney: (rolls eyes) How do they use it 'incorrectly'?
me: Well, some people say, 'Oh, I'm so in Lovett', or 'I'm lovetting it!', and sometimes 'I'm Lovett!'
Lovett: But I'M Lovett!
Me: we all know that, we mean it was a compliment, though I can't think how
Sweeney: Oh, just shut up and update (grumbles) like you ever do
Me: Hey, I'm busy a lot of times!
Sweeney: Yeah, sure, whatever
Lovett: come on, love, you know how people can be when they're busy. I'm busy all the time yet I still find the time to help you out.
Sweeney: I DON'T NEED NO BLOODY HELP!
Me: Doesn't matter, say thank you!
Sweeney: HELL NO! she never shuts up and every time she talks to some bloke I'm always in fear she'll spill the whole murder deal!
Lovett :(
Me: Mark my words, Todd, I WILL get you to say thank you to Lovett before the fourth chapter!
Sweeney: (grins) bring it!