"We're gonna have to stock up on the gin. Lad is drinkin me out of house an' home." Mrs. Lovett sighed. "If you don't have any customers currently, what about comin' downstairs for a drop of ale, Mr. T? Or something else of the sort?"
Todd merely grunted, much to the disgust of Mrs. Lovett. He was so...deadpan, so...lost. It was a sad endeavor to fall head over heels for the man, but she had always had a certain fondness for the insane...though she would never admit it. She went downstairs frustrated, only to find Toby passed out on the floor of her shop. "Boy gonna catch something awful nasty, asleep on the floor of this wretched place." She muttered under her breath.
She poured herself a spot of whiskey, her preference as far as drinks went. She settled in with a book, soon to lose track of the time.
Much later, she heard footsteps, and looked up to see Todd wandering downstairs...surprisingly. He hardly ever left his parlor, only to have her wash his bloody shirts and to have a drink, really. Her money was on that he was more depressed than even the usual this afternoon, and he wanted alcohol.
She bet right.
He rummaged around in the cupboard for the gin, shook the bottle, sneered at it's low volume, and found the full unopened one before he slumped down in a chair.
His shirtsleeve was red, and he looked angry. She didn't seek out a conversation with him, and for good reason. The lunch rush had left her utterly weary, and she dozed off in the chair she had been reading in.
She awoke later to Mr. Todd standing over her with a strange glint in his eye. "Mr. Todd, where have you been? You gave me quite a fright, why stand so close when I'm asleep?"
"Mrs. Lovett, you are a bloody wonder, why haven't I been able to see what's been in front of me all these years?" The last word carried a bit of vibrato, and she was positively befuddled.
"Mr. T, are you alright? What troubles you, love?" She stood up and lovingly placed a hand on his shoulder.
It was then that he pulled her closer to himself than she had ever expected, and began to waltz her maniacally around the kitchen. She played along, who was she to not, for she loved him with all of her being...and if he wished to whisper in her ear stories of his most recent customers, she wasn't going to stop him. However, she was in for something much different.
When she thought for sure he was going to knock over the cleaver, he did something unbelievable.
He kissed her.
It was a harsh and passionate kiss, only to be expected from the demon barber of fleet street...the smell of his French cologne was intoxicating, and he kissed her with lust and greed, pouring into this one action his pain, sorrow, suffering, and longing for a way out of the insane way of life he had taken up. It was almost painful, but she was so shocked and overcome with gladness she didn't notice. Did he truly love her? Had he moved past Lucy? Could they have a life by the sea? She kissed him back with mad desire, with no regards to the razors in his pocket, the ruby on his sleeve, or the danger in his eyes. She had hit the wall of her shop when he pulled away so suddenly she nearly fell over.
"What...in hell...is happening…" He softly murmured. When he looked at her she was suddenly overcome with such fear that he would slap her, or slit her throat that she froze, unable to look away, unable to move. He did none of these things, rather, he held her eyes with an icy glare sharper than his blade, swiftly turned on his heel and went upstairs to his parlor.
When she had recovered and slowed her beating heart, she merely swore "bloody drunken bastard" under her breath and staggered back to her chair...Toby still asleep, Todd still brooding, mad, and silent, and she...still infatuated with the barber, who would never return her affections.
Todd merely grunted, much to the disgust of Mrs. Lovett. He was so...deadpan, so...lost. It was a sad endeavor to fall head over heels for the man, but she had always had a certain fondness for the insane...though she would never admit it. She went downstairs frustrated, only to find Toby passed out on the floor of her shop. "Boy gonna catch something awful nasty, asleep on the floor of this wretched place." She muttered under her breath.
She poured herself a spot of whiskey, her preference as far as drinks went. She settled in with a book, soon to lose track of the time.
Much later, she heard footsteps, and looked up to see Todd wandering downstairs...surprisingly. He hardly ever left his parlor, only to have her wash his bloody shirts and to have a drink, really. Her money was on that he was more depressed than even the usual this afternoon, and he wanted alcohol.
She bet right.
He rummaged around in the cupboard for the gin, shook the bottle, sneered at it's low volume, and found the full unopened one before he slumped down in a chair.
His shirtsleeve was red, and he looked angry. She didn't seek out a conversation with him, and for good reason. The lunch rush had left her utterly weary, and she dozed off in the chair she had been reading in.
She awoke later to Mr. Todd standing over her with a strange glint in his eye. "Mr. Todd, where have you been? You gave me quite a fright, why stand so close when I'm asleep?"
"Mrs. Lovett, you are a bloody wonder, why haven't I been able to see what's been in front of me all these years?" The last word carried a bit of vibrato, and she was positively befuddled.
"Mr. T, are you alright? What troubles you, love?" She stood up and lovingly placed a hand on his shoulder.
It was then that he pulled her closer to himself than she had ever expected, and began to waltz her maniacally around the kitchen. She played along, who was she to not, for she loved him with all of her being...and if he wished to whisper in her ear stories of his most recent customers, she wasn't going to stop him. However, she was in for something much different.
When she thought for sure he was going to knock over the cleaver, he did something unbelievable.
He kissed her.
It was a harsh and passionate kiss, only to be expected from the demon barber of fleet street...the smell of his French cologne was intoxicating, and he kissed her with lust and greed, pouring into this one action his pain, sorrow, suffering, and longing for a way out of the insane way of life he had taken up. It was almost painful, but she was so shocked and overcome with gladness she didn't notice. Did he truly love her? Had he moved past Lucy? Could they have a life by the sea? She kissed him back with mad desire, with no regards to the razors in his pocket, the ruby on his sleeve, or the danger in his eyes. She had hit the wall of her shop when he pulled away so suddenly she nearly fell over.
"What...in hell...is happening…" He softly murmured. When he looked at her she was suddenly overcome with such fear that he would slap her, or slit her throat that she froze, unable to look away, unable to move. He did none of these things, rather, he held her eyes with an icy glare sharper than his blade, swiftly turned on his heel and went upstairs to his parlor.
When she had recovered and slowed her beating heart, she merely swore "bloody drunken bastard" under her breath and staggered back to her chair...Toby still asleep, Todd still brooding, mad, and silent, and she...still infatuated with the barber, who would never return her affections.