A/N This is a small tribute to Mrs Lovett. Because she's awesome!
Disclaimer: Sweeney Todd isn't mine. DUH!
The razor blade at her throat felt cold, sharp and menacing. But it was the man who held it that frightened Mrs Lovett more. For Sweeney Todd was dead. He had died 15 years ago, when his family had been ripped away from him; his happiness destroyed. The man who had escaped Australia was nothing more than a corpse; a walking, talking shadow that lived only for the sake of revenge.
Mrs Lovett looked his face. Todd stared back at her, his gaze filled with a savage joy that didn't quite mask the pain he hid behind his carefully constructed facade. She turned away quickly. For a moment, Mrs Lovett could have sworn she had seen the fires of hell burning in his eyes. He moved closer to her, his breath tickling her skin. "We all deserve to die," he whispered into her ear. And despite her terror, despite the realization that her life was about to end, Mrs Lovett leaned closer to him, drinking in the sound of his voice. He was like a drug to her. Dangerous, harmful, yet addictive at the same time.
It was at moments like these that Mrs Lovett believed Todd wasn't human. He was a demon from hell, sent to torture her with those charmingly beautiful smiles. Suddenly, his hand froze. Slowly, oh so very slowly he removed the blade from her neck. "And I'll never see Johanna," he sang. And once more he seemed human, alive even, vulnerable. "No I'll never hug my girl to me. FINISHED!" He turned around and started pacing up and down the room, singing to people only he could see. Mrs Lovett watched him and shuddered. The demon was back.
Weeks later, as they waltzed through the blood coated bakehouse, Mrs Lovett was to absorbed in her own happiness to notice how close they were to the oven. All that mattered was that his arms were around her and his voice was singing to her. Telling her that she had been forgiven and that Lucy didn't matter anymore and –
And then there were flames and screams and fear and pain. So much pain everywhere that Mrs Lovett couldn't move. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. Then she saw his eyes, his scorching eyes staring at her through the smoke. They were the eyes of a madman.
For almost a year she had lived for him, lied for him...longed for him. For almost a year, Mrs Lovett had loved a demon.
She had sold her soul to the devil. And now she burned.
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