Well, I decided to continue this. I've never written from Sweeney's pov before, so bear with me. There will be Sweenett in the next one, I promise!
Sweeney Todd didn't sleep the rest of that night. He didn't even try, as he sometimes did, leaning back in his diabolical barber's chair and trying to force his churning thoughts to calm long enough for him to get some rest. But neither did he pace up and down his room, as he usually did when sleep refused to come. No, tonight the barber stood by his window, frowning out on the streets of a darkened London, turning the night's events over in his mind, most specifically what his disturbingly perceptive landlady had said to him.
Demons in his head. Mr Todd's hands tightened on the windowsill. How could she have guessed that all he saw now when he closed his eyes were demons: the judge standing smirking at him, always just out of Sweeney's reach; Johanna, her pale face streaked with dirt and tears, huddled behind the barred windows of a mad house; Lucy, though it was never the Lucy he had known, not quite. Her face was haggard, and her eyes held something he didn't recognize, and her throat was slick with blood, slashed, he knew, by one of his own razors.
He couldn't sleep anymore for fear that he would see them, all wanting from him a different thing that he could not give. And with a simple question, Mrs Lovett had cut straight to the heart of all his pain, voiced what he could not. Why would she ask him such a thing? Sweeney bowed his head, still leaning on the windowsill. What did she know about his nightmares?
The next day, Sweeney tried to avoid the baker, refusing to come down from his shop, and not meeting her eyes when she brought him his food on a tray. He couldn't say why he didn't want to look at her, except that he was half afraid that she might say something, do something that would remind him again of his nighttime visions, that a flick of her dark eyes would go straight through him, brushing a part of him even he didn't fully understand. A vulnerable part.
But no matter how hard Mr Todd tried to push her away, somehow Mrs Lovett kept on finding her way into his troubled head. It distracted him.
As he was carefully lathering the face of his next customer, Mr Todd began thinking about their brief conversation the night before. She said she had demons too… He wished he could have seen her face as she said that. Whatever emotion her dark eyes had held then, he was sure they must have been full to the brim.
Just then, blood spattered into his eyes, blinding him and effectively cutting off his train of thought. As he'd been pondering the woman downstairs, his hand had slipped as he drew his razor across the unfortunate customer's throat, sending a spray of blood up into Sweeney's face. Cursing his own wandering mind, the barber pressed the pedal next to his chair, sending the still-choking man smashing onto the bake house floor below, and wiped his face with the white cloth he kept tucked in his belt.
Looking out of the window, he saw that it was dark, and a half-moon was already high in the sky. As he cleaned his razor, Mr Todd idly wondered if Mrs Lovett was asleep yet, if she was dreaming.. He caught himself with a snarl. Placing his beautiful silver friend back in its box, not caring that there was still blood on his sleeves and in his hair, Sweeney went to the door and opened it roughly. That was it. He had to put a stop to this.