Sing
Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd or the associated characters.
Most would think she sounded horrible when music left her lips. However, that was not the case. Sometimes he would hear her through the wooden floors, the beautiful noise drifting up from her room. He would listen to it, sometimes tapping his finger to the music. Although it was usually a sad tune, it did not effect it's perfection.
Her voice was melodic, but not as light and soft as Lucy's. He flicked open his razor, deep in thought. His body was slouched in the barber chair, a bored posture affecting his figure. Sometimes he would hear her sing to Toby, and rarely, she would play the piano. Sweeney never knew she could. But then again, he did not know much about her life when he was gone.
Maybe if he had just paid a little more attention to her lyrics he would... But he didn't. He didn't know how to classify her voice- maybe an alto. Lucy would have been a soprano. Today, if he was listening closely, he may have heard her story. The tale of a hard life and a broken heart.
Sweeney's thoughts wandered to Lucy, where he wanted his mind to be focused, but it always found its way back to the baker downstairs and her gloomy songs. Sweeney ran his finger over the knife blade slowly, completely absorbed in the melody.
Always pleasant, singing before bed. Probably cleaning, busying herself as the words flowed from her mouth, trying to fight away the feelings.
Sweeney would sing in the morning, when the sun wasn't yet risen, when the whole of Fleet Street should have been sleeping still.
Little did he know, Nellie would listen.
Listen to each other sing.
Author's Note: Did you like it? I truly hope you did. Questions? Please log in so I can reply! As always reviews and constructive criticism are always helpful.
Note to Helenesse: I apologize for the misunderstanding! I was really distracted a few days ago- I meant to clarify- a few months ago, my friend was going to have twins. During the first trimester of pregnancy, she lost one, which is partially an inspiration. All writers have their flaws, and yes, mine was a mistake because I forgot a step. The baby would/ should have been Sweeney's. Please forgive me.