Esteemed Malevolence
Unaware
The next three hours before closing time passed by in a long, demented blur for Eleanor Lovett. Her brain had been consumed by the thought of how Mr Todd would react - she kept flicking her eyes over to the invitations whenever she was trapped beside her counter, also recalling the sincerity of the mysterious young girl, now known to be named Miss Fiori...
She wouldn't mention the undertaker to Mr Todd. She couldn't. Even if she was going to accept the strange offer of assistance with body disposal... she wouldn't let him catch on. The idea of the Judge's invitation would be enough of a shock for the man, she didn't think adding to that would be a good idea.
And it wasn't like she was lying to him.
Yet why was it that she felt that feeling of forboding in the pit of her stomach?
That feeling didn't disappear, even when the last of the lingering customers trailed out of her courtyard - with that cue, she started to lock up the doors of her shop - luckily she'd cleared up the majority of plates as she'd dished out pies that evening. Due to her overwhelming concerns she'd felt the need to keep busy at all times.
She huffed out an exhausted sigh once she retired to her parlour, smiling sadly at the bottle of gin on the side-table beside the settee. The cushions, illuminated by the crackling fire, looked inviting, and felt even better once she laid out her fatigued body over the furnishings. For a brief moment, she let herself close her eyes, the only thing she saw was the recent memory of Sweeney's face in the darkness of her bake-house, his deep black eyes studying her features intently...
The sight of him in her mind's eye relaxed her further, her senses completely out of reality, lost in the imaginary world of her dark barber and the retreat by the sea...
Due to her head being away with the fairies, Eleanor wasn't aware that the very man she dreamed of that second, was gently shutting the parlour door, black irises gleaming with seductive intent. His footsteps were quiet thuds, not a single shoe scrape alerting her... she must have been well and truly lost in her slumber.
"Mmm... " she mumbled, to which a smirk grew on his lips, his legs advancing towards her that little bit quicker. "Ohhh Mr T... yes... do 'at again..."
He raised a brow. It was clear what sort of dream his accomplice was having - apparently their little rendezvous earlier hadn't been enough for her. Well, if he was honest with himself, it hadn't been enough for him either.
Eventually, he reached her side.
She was sprawled out over the settee, her skull tilted back lazily into her half-pinned mess of faded red locks, and then into the cushions. Due to her position, her throat was completely exposed, so it was only natural for Sweeney to take the opportunity to study the pale flesh there. He wondered whether her positioning was the same in her fantasy... if so, he then pondered about what he was doing to her.
His smirk evolved into a wicked grin.
What would happen if he touched her then? Would she wake? Would she lie still, absorbed in fright?
He dropped down, kneeling over the salvaged rug beneath his knees, watching her brief twitches as a smile appeared on her lips. She continued to mutter unrepeatable expressions out of her mouth, and he grinned wider. Deciding he couldn't be passive any longer, he confidently raised an arm up, firmly stroking his thumb over the shape of her jawline.
He expected her to wake in a frenzy, but instead, a low chuckle bubbled from her... he tilted his head to the side, his amusement replaced with somber interest.
He took his hand from her, but only so that he could lean forwards, resting his bent elbows on the couch below. His face hovered over hers, the bridge of his nose almost touching her nose's skin. His intense eyes stared at her peaky eyelids, then trailed over all of her other features that he could see without moving his head. He was certain that she was able to feel the breaths that he was pushing out onto her face... he then presumed, now knowing that Mrs Lovett dreamed of him quite intimately, that her fantasies would probably be full of ridiculously realistic details, so that was probably why she was unaware that he was even there.
'In that case... per'aps I should show her that I'm not just some figment of her imagination?' he thought, the glint of mischief in his obsidian eyes evident of a conniving plan.
He pushed himself forwards so that he was even closer, allowing his nose to abruptly nuzzle her - he earned a brief murmur of relaxation from her, but it was clear that she believed it was the perfect version of Sweeney Todd in her brain touching her... not the real, more enticing Sweeney Todd that was keen on pleasuring her, unbeknownst to her.
Sick of watching her fantasize about her perfected barber, he brought his lips down over hers, attacking her without mercy. Her eyes shot open in alarm, and he could feel her writhing beneath him, vibrations reverberating on his lips as she let out a surprised groan into him. His tongue pushed its way through her lips, and that was what finally managed to wake the woman up.
As his hands roamed her body, she wrenched her hands into his hair, clawing at every black lock that her fingers came across, her legs already spreading out so that he could press himself over her easier.
Small whimpers escaped her throat as she reacted back to him eagerly, his hands not delaying in roaming about her torso. The two of them kissed enthusiastically, Eleanor's heart hammering so fast that her worries took a backseat in her mind. Their lips worked feverishly, each of his hands stroking down her sides as he proceeded to kneel over her, ensuring he could attack her lips more successfully.
As his hands stroked their way over to the front of her dress, pressing firmly over the tops of her breasts, he paused...
She continued to smother his mouth with her own, braying her lips hard against him even though he'd stopped dead, frown emerging once his eyes cracked open.
He shoved one of his hands into her cleavage, in an unexpectedly harsh manner, callously pulling his mouth away from her own. She gasped in a deep intake of breath from panic, eyes wide with realisation. His fingers caught hold of something reminiscent of paper and his scowl deepened, the thin item instantly being pulled out of her snug pocket.
"This is not a letterbox, Mrs Lovett." he whispered as an impassive bewilderment came over him. Although what he'd said would have habitually caused her to giggle, she continued to watch him with unvoiced dread, as he curiously studied the writing which was neatly scribed on the exteriors of the two envelopes. She dared not stop him now - he was still half-lying on her, oblivious to her pleading eyes which were telling him to cease what he was doing and kiss her instead.
Wordlessly, he set the opened letter with Eleanor's name on to the side-table behind her head, to which she flinched. Her actions caught his attention and he narrowed his eyes at her. He opened the envelope, never once taking his gleaming eyes from her, he knew she was keeping something from him...
He blindly slid the card from the envelope, dropping his head down in order to read the invitation - but Eleanor swiftly grabbed a light hold of his chin, tipping his head back up to face her.
"I was gonna tell ya, love." she confessed quietly, the pure longing she felt seeping into each syllable. "Please don't be upse - "
He pushed her hand away from his skin, those eyes of his darkening with annoyance as he glared at her.
She felt his entire body tense across her as he ignored her attempt at disuading him from reading the Judge's invite. She observed him intently as an array of emotions passed over his features when his eyes continually trailed from left to right.
"What?" he murmured, the flash of rage seared within his eyes before confusion returned.
He suddenly flung the paper to the side, not caring where it landed over the parlour floor. He turned his hardened gaze on her and she audibly gulped when he closed back in on her, face inches from hers.
"We 'ave him in our hands, Mrs Lovett." he spoke, his voice rising in volume with every letter of each word like it was some sort of warning. "This is what I've been waiting for. Just like you said, my waiting's paid off. It's a chance to strike 'im in a place where he feels safe. Do you realise that, Mrs Lovett? I can finally get him, do you understand?"
She stared up into his glowing eyes, tinged orange-red from the fiery hue inhabiting her parlour. It looked like he was ready to murder the filthy Judge there and then from the way he was staring at her so fiercely.
"B-Beadle Bamford told me to make sure t'tell ya 'at the Judge is ever so grateful f'ya services, thinks the world'a your barber's talents, 'e does." she breathed out in a fast pace, too concerned about his close proximity now he seemed keen on the idea of murder. "Ya reputation's why you've been invited. As 'ave I - "
"You?" he snapped, eyes ablaze though it was clear his anger wasn't due to her. "He invited you?"
She opened her mouth to reply as she reached her hand to the side-table behind her, but he brought an arm up to latch his palm around her wrist, causing her to gasp out.
Sweeney had already jumped to the worst conclusion. Now that he finally thought Mrs Lovett to be his in a whole spectrum of different ways, the fact that she had been invited to Turpin's ball was even more personal than it should have been. If the Judge was attempting to take yet another person away from him, the rat was going to fail miserably. For he was no longer Barker, but Todd... a man who'd kill for what belonged to him.
"Neither of us can refuse, love." she said quietly, like she'd read what he was thinking through the shimmering windows of his eyes. "Ya know that if anyone's invited t'somethin' like 'is, that it'd be unheard of t'turn it down."
"Then we can't be seen together." he whispered, eyes widening like he'd realised something. "In order for me to get that rat, you are to leave me be for the entire night, is that understood?"
She saw smoky sincerity warped into his rage - she then flinched nervously when he brushed his body over her, raising each of his hands up to cup her face brashly. His serious emotion didn't fool her. It was a cracked mask... she could tell from that element of disgust flickering within his hatred.
She would obey him, but she already knew that it was unlikely that he would leave her alone. Given that the event was occurring in the same building as Lucy had visited, it would be clear that he would keep a watchful eye on her... or so she thought, given his recently overly-possessive behaviour.
Perhaps it was more hoped, than thought.
" ' O course, love. I can 'old me own for a night, can't I?" she slyly hinted, giving him a small, sad smile. "Any hassle and I know wot ta do."
He tilted his head slightly, like he hadn't anticipated her reply and scoffed in disbelief, amusement filling his eyes.
"You would know what to do, would you?" he questioned with a sharp edge to his louder volume. "From the way you are with me, I'm sure you'd let any man 'ave their way with you without a care in the world. You wouldn't do an ounce of real harm, now, would you?"
She knew he was filled with rage.
But she certainly wasn't allowing him to take it out on her.
Her eyes were reminiscent of a rusty metallic mace as she looked up at him, defying his icy amusement with a swing of her gaze, breaking his disbelief into shattered shards of ice.
In that moment, even Sweeney Todd knew he'd strayed too far into glassy void. He truly had no idea what Eleanor Lovett was capable of - nor did he know exactly what she'd been through in those fifteen years of silence.
From her expression - one that was so full of defiance and determination - he knew that his condescending remark had been undeniably incorrect.
"You have before, haven't you?" he breathed, eyes wide with shock and part guilt for underestimating her.
Her brown eyes cut into him with poisonous rejection, though a smirk soon emerged on her pouting lips. It caused her to appear much more tempting and dangerous in the flaming glow of the room. Finally, her true form was out for him to see.
He gaped at her, brows raised as she lifted her chin towards him, lips hovering by his.
"Times were 'ard, Mr T," she whispered, eyelids drooping down as she breathed her words out onto his mouth's skin. "desperate measures were called for. Lot easier now 'at you're 'ere bein' such an' 'elpful 'and..."
His breaths started to become ragged, his eyes focused on the movement of her hypnotising lips. He let out an audible sigh when he felt her fingers threading through his hair once more.
"Back then, 'ad t'get rid'o me own problems. Albert bein' one of 'em..."
He held back the urge to groan as she began to massage his scalp, though where her conversation was headed was also fairly pleasing to his ears too.
"... always eatin' me out of 'ouse an' 'ome, 'e was. So much so that I 'ad nothin' left to sell most days. Couldn't be havin' 'im lurchin' 'bout the place like 'at, could I? The man could barely stand."
For once, Mr Todd was hanging onto her every word, his body relaxing with every circle pattern that her thumb drew on his scalp. His mouth was still agape, and inches from hers - with every sinful word that passed through those lips of hers, it drove him closer to violently snatching her up again.
"Ol' Albert was jus' convenience, at first." she sighed, brows lifting into reluctant acceptance as her eyes were drawn to his open mouth. "Then after 'at... convenience wi' no reward. Then 'gain, that made 'im easier t'get rid of..."
Internally, Sweeney Todd was a furnace. The woman had no idea how much lust she caused him to feel. To know that she too, had breached into the realms of taking another life, it was alluring to him. No, obscenely voluptuous.
She was fascinating him with her every word. Every breath. Every movement.
To know that she'd yearned for Benjamin to claim her as his for so long... and to instead, become Todd's...
The idea alone made him shiver, her lips still seductively opening and closing before him as more details of how she made herself a widow poured out of her vocal chords.
When she spoke of murder in that husky tone, it was like music to his ears, and he suddenly felt uncomfortably warm.
"I always say that 'is greed was 'is downfall." she continued - he could tell that she sensed how she was affecting him, for her chest heaved upwards and downwards rapidly, brushing against his front. "Everyone believes me an' all. Wot reason would I 'ave t'be lyin' about it all?"
That conniving mouth of hers parted as she paused to take in a deep breath. He growled and darted inwards, catching her mouth in a heated kiss. The two of them moaned in unison, enjoying the feel of one another when he pressed his body into her. He pulled away for a moment and brought up a hand to pull her hair in order to keep her head back. "Bedroom, now." he near moaned, mouth pressed to her ear.
He took himself away from her, but only so he could leap to his feet.
If she wasn't flustered before, she certainly was when she finally got to her feet. She felt that treasured anticipation bleeding through her being, and it was stronger than it had been earlier that day. She could practically feel his lust searing out of him as she passed him, and then passed the fireplace, headed to her bedroom.
He watched every detail as her hips swung to-and-fro, and a smirk tugged on his lips once he caught her already taking a few pins out of her hair before she even reached her door.
Taking a step forward as she disappeared through the door-frame, he took a glance down to the floor below...
His discarded invitation and envelope stared back at him and he clenched his teeth, like the thing was trying to stop him from what he was about to do.
But nothing could have ever stopped him then.
He let out an audible snarl (he was almost certain she would have heard from her room), and gathered the paper from the floor, swiftly turning back to claw up Eleanor's invite too.
He marched across to the fireplace, eyes reflecting the scarlets and oranges within the flickering flames.
He poised his hands, ready to throw the letters in.
In that moment, he urged himself to do so. He couldn't risk losing Eleanor. The strength of how much he wanted her then proved that much.
Before his hands let go of the fragile papers, he heard a loud, airy moan float from her bedroom... his hands shook with anticipation and he growled with frustration, throwing the letters over the floor behind him.
It seemed that balancing out his revenge and his craving for Mrs Lovett, was proving rather problematic...
It was lucky that he could satisfy one of his hungers.
For the time being...
... at least.