Gosh this is so random but I had a dream about Sweenett where Sweens was all gentle and I /had/ to goddamn write this because I ship them sooo damn hard it's painful.

Let me give you a little piece of advice: Never. Never, never, ever watch Sweeney Todd twice, immediately in a row. The feels are killing me still and it's been a whole day now. I love that movie so much.

Today was a good day btw because I watched Public Enemies and Secret Window. Pretty awesome stuff.

Disclaimer: I wish.

Alone In The Dark

...

She felt very lonely though she wasn't alone at all in the midst of her midday customers, serving one and chatting with the other- a smile for Mrs. Doyle, a wink for Mr. Brown.. all accompanied by the wish for it to be over soon. Keeping up the charade was becoming more challenging every day. Not that she felt guilty all of a sudden- far from it- still it was tiring keeping up the pretense of her 'new recipe' that's all about coriander and whatnot. Sometimes the truth almost burnt the tip of her tongue.

Human flesh is what makes 'em so good, dearie.

But no, she wouldn't say that just for the sake of a lightened heart and have herself as well as the barber and probably even the boy hung as a consequence. It wasn't worth it... Or was it? After all what did she have left to live for? Toby was a strong little lad, he could get away in time and survive all by himself. And Mr. Todd... well he certainly liked to be left alone, didn't he? All she ever heard of him was "get out" or "leave me" day in and day out. What difference would it make if she ended it all and went to fetch the Beadle herself. In death he could be alone all he wanted and at least that way she wouldn't die alone.
The sheer insanity of those thoughts almost scared her but she just felt so lost as if she had been rid of her very place in the world.

By the time the last customer shuffled out it was already late enough to prepare everything for the dinner rush but Mrs. Lovett just couldn't do it. She was tired of the social interaction and false sense of acceptance. They hadn't liked her before and all of a sudden it was all smiles and good wishes. It was disgusting sometimes. All she wanted was one human being to like her for who she really was, though that didn't sound too likable. An untalented, scrupulous baker with a loyalty to a man that in no way appreciated her efforts.

As if on cue he all but materialized in the centre of her shabby kitchen, looking her up at down with a concerned gaze.

"You don't look too well." His voice was indifferent but in his black eyes glistened the hint of genuine concern. She waved it off and went to fetch a broom.

"'S all good, love."

A hand on her wrist stopped her mid-step. She looked up to find his intrigued gaze on her, one eyebrow slightly raised. The grip on her hand wasn't brutal like so often before but almost gentle. It was a strange situation but in no way unpleasant.
"You're tired," he stated as if to inform her of it.

"Course I am, Mr. T, makin' people-pies takes bloody effort and them customers don't serve 'emselves."

He didn't say anything to that and there was certainly no awareness in his eyes that she was actually blaming him for her exhaustion at this point. Still she saw something in his eyes that was familiar. His expression mirrored her thoughts perfectly. There was fear, that deep loneliness that seemed to follow her everywhere lately and a small glimmer of something she couldn't quite put a finger on... hope maybe?

"Do you have any friends, Eleanor?" The question came out of nowhere and surprised her so much that she almost didn't notice it when he began stroking a thumb across the back of her hand which was still in his grip, but he was not holding her back any more. He was simply holding her hand.

"All's I got is you an' Toby." Why she didn't lie at that point was a mystery to her but the situation just felt like it required absolute honesty. He nodded once and pulled her toward the window, sweeping the curtain aside and motioning for her to look out while he stood behind her, his front gently pressed against her back, sending almost unbearable tingles of utmost pleasure through her body.

See all those people?" He whispered, his lips at her ear. "They're worth nothing. Nothing at all. The world is filled with scum of all sorts.. and then there's us. A murderer and his accomplice, ridding the streets of its verminous inhabitants. We share something, us two. Something dark but not entirely so." She was still swooning from the way he'd said 'us' when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and held her close to him, allowing her to lean into the embrace. He was in a very peculiar mood but then again as was she.
"We are never alone, Eleanor," he whispered into her curls as she closed her eyes, lost in the intimacy he usually avoided except in his loneliest nights.

She realised, however, that his words were not only to soothe her but also to assure himself in a way. They were eerily alike sometimes. Without her he was lost just as much as she was lost without him. And after becoming aware of this, Mrs. Lovett knew that he would not leave her and she would not go get the Beadle because he was equally dependant on staying sane -more or less- as she was.

They were - in a way- each other's sanity.

R&R