YAY!! I finally updated! I apologize; there is really no excuse for it other than sheer laziness. :( I hope you all are still interested in reading this! I also hope everyone's been well since I last updated. :) Anyways, on with the chap!
"Barkeep, I'll have a tumbler of gin, straight away." The bartender, who had been absentmindedly scrubbing the same glass as he leaned up against the counter jumped a bit at the sharp order.
"Straigh' away, sir," he said. Easy enough drink to make… Sweeney Todd then sat down on the bar stool furthest away from everything else; he thought best in isolation. However, it was extremely slow for a Saturday night; there was only one other man at the bar, and he appeared to have passed out. His glass of gin appeared in front of Sweeney as he then reached into his pocket and set some coins down, rattling on the counter; enough to pay for the drink. Raising the cool glass to his lips he swallowed and exhaled. How had he let it fall to this?
For the first few nights on his own he merely wandered the streets of London, hoping to eventually find a small and affordable apartment where he could stay. He eventually found it: an extremely small loft with no windows above a bookstore. It was far more run down than any place he had seen in London before (which was saying something), but it did have a legitimate roof and four walls surrounding him, which was more than he had bargained for. Out of necessity he had started another barber shop; one where the customers left with soft skin and fully intact jugular veins. It was an extremely modest enterprise, but earned him enough to keep himself alive.
At first he had adored the freedom. He thrived knowing that he could be self-sufficient, knowing that he didn't have to answer to anyone… No one relied on Sweeney Todd and Sweeney Todd relied on no one. He had his own life now, and no one could tell him otherwise. However… slowly he stopped his frequent, aimless strolls through the city's streets and alleyways. Over the two weeks since he had been on his own, he had gradually made his world smaller and smaller until nothing was left but him, his room and his razors.
He had gone back to brandishing his razors about, pacing back and forth in his minuscule apartment during all hours of the night. He didn't sleep or eat anymore, or he had just stopped noticing when he did. Material things; the world around him didn't even register anymore in his jumbled mind. He only ventured out from the labyrinth of his thoughts when he opened his shop for business, and even then his thoughts were consumed by her… but which "her" that was anymore, Sweeney wasn't exactly sure. He usually saw Lucy's hazel eyes reflected back at him in his razors' gleaming surface, but lately all he was seeing Mrs. Lovett's chocolate irises staring up into his.
Of course, his instinct was to ward off; to fight against such thoughts of her… but he had had to give it up. It was becoming inevitable now, he realized. He loathed Mrs. Lovett for tainting his perfect, untarnished memories of Lucy with her faults, and yet… every moment he had spent with her had been unbelievable. She had opened up to him a new world, and he now hated himself for slamming that door in his own face, eliminating his only chance at a renewed life. It had never occurred to him that life could go on after his revenge was complete; he had always sort of assumed that his entire life had been leading up to killing the Judge and would end immediately after… but Sweeney was quickly discovering that this wasn't the case. Life went on… and he knew he didn't want it to continue like this.
He allowed the last swallow of gin to slide down his throat before slamming the glass fimly down to the bar, commencing his short journey back to the loft. His stride was much slower and more relaxed that night. There was no internal force willing him to rush anymore… Hands in his pockets, head bowed, he watched the cracks in the pavement pass below his feet; triumphant green weeks sprouting up here and there. He lifted his head up, his gaze meeting the purple sunset on the horizon. It looked almost surreal… As if he were in a dream, as thought the very world itself were merely a figment of his mind…
There were very few people remaining outdoors at this hour. The people of London thrived at daybreak and went back behind the safe walls of their homes at sundown. However, the couple Sweeney had been distantly trailing looked in no hurry to get home. He suddenly became very aware that he had no one to walk with on nights like these. He was truly and irrevocably alone, he had done everything in his power to make sure of that. The couple suddenly stopped, as did Sweeney, though he didn't know why he did. The man leaned into the woman's ear and whispered sweet nothings to her, causing the woman to closer her eyes and smile. She then looked searchingly up at him before they kissed lightly, lacing their fingers together as they continued on their way.
Before Sweeney knew what was happening he pictured he and Mrs. Lovett in that position; imagined her smiling sweetly up at him… He stopped, both physically and mentally. He couldn't take it anymore, he needed his thoughts about Mrs. Lovett and Lucy sorted out right away. This internal argument needed to be settled, once and for all, so he could finally figure out if he wanted this renewed life with Mrs. Lovett… Or if it was even possible anymore, for that matter. He turned around and started in the direction of Hyde Park. No, the four walls and roof of his flat would be overwhelmingly restrictive, almost prison-like…
He reached the line where cobblestone met rolling grass, and as he continued on, the leaves seemed to whisper of his presence in the cool breeze. His wandering feet led him off the path, realizing he trusted them more than his memories to reach his destination. The soothing sound of a stream, stumbling over rocks on its way penetrated his ears, and he knew he was close. Finally, he stepped out into the clearing.
It was lit by the white glow of the moon and stars, illuminating the small brook and making it sparkle. The weeping willow tree had grown much larger since the last time he had sat beneath it; its long, wispy branches faintly brushing the waters' surface. He deeply inhaled as memories of summers spent beneath these trees came flooding back to him. He had escaped to this place so often as a teenager… Almost immediately, he then recalled the one time he had brought Lucy to this place. A stream of heat pierced through his chest as he remembered, before anything else, that she had complained the whole time about her skirts getting dirty and insects getting in her hair.
Why was he now dwelling on her faults? From the moment he had looked into her glassy eyes, he knew she had to be the epitome of perfection; a dream… He had thought she could do no wrong. His adoration for her had clearly blinded him from seeing she was merely human. And he had crashed cruelly back to earth when he realized Lucy had done the unforgivable. She had abandoned Johanna, completely given up hope on Benjamin Barker… She had been too weak to face the truth, and it ended up consuming her in the end until there was nothing left. There was no excuse for it.
He threw a rock violently into the water, where it landed in a shallow part of the stream. It rested there for a few moments, obstructing the crystal surface of the water before it tucked beneath the surface, the flowing smoothly on its way. Those fifteen long, turmoil-filled years in prison had changed him as much as an individual person could change. And from this different place, with this different, cynically truthful view of the world, he could see… He could see just how young, naïve and immature they had been. Not a care in the world. They had, indeed, had the most picturesque form of love; the kind only known in fairy tales… But it had never truly been their own. It nearly killed him to realize it, but he knew now they had only ever followed in the steps of what they thought was love.
Granted, part of him would always love her, love the memory of her, despite what he had become. Sweeney Todd existed solely to avenge Lucy, and more importantly Johanna, but now that all was said and done… Part of him had died right along with her. But he didn't have a clue anymore as to which part of him that was. He knew it was for her that he had been 'reincarnated', but now that she was dead and gone, shouldn't he be completely gone too? Why? Why the hell was he still able to feel such powerful emotion, why was he able to feel at all now that she was gone?
He rapidly stood up and splashed the surprisingly icy water in his face. How had his simple life, created from and filled only with rage and vengeance, become so damn complicated? This answer, however, was simple.
Eleanor Lovett had come storming back into his life.
Sweeney had expected to find her pie shop abandoned when he had set foot on Fleet Street. He had obviously been mistaken from the instant he had reentered his old home; the soundtrack of her astonishment underplaying the moment. Nellie was still there. He knew now that she had waited for him all those years, waited for a man that had never been hers'… But why? He couldn't even begin to comprehend why she cared for him at all. He had been to lovestruck to acknowledge her then and… well, he knew how he was now. Every day he was consistently angry, violent, insensitive… An absolute nightmare to deal with. He had pushed the woman to her very limits, shoved her nearly over the edge of her physical and emotional limits… She had endured so much more than she deserved, a kind heart like hers'.
Finally, though, he had pushed too hard. He had stepped over that fine boundary and had paid dearly for it. Was this regret he felt? In that moment, with her hot, little body writhing underneath his, he had felt consequences were impossible. Looking back now, he didn't blame her in the slightest for slamming the door shut in his face. He had done everything in his power to make her fall out of love with him without even realizing it…
He tore his gaze from the sky and into the sparkling, tumbling black glass. Mrs. Lovett would probably love it here. Try, though he had, to block out most of her incoherent babbling (which was a majority of the time), he knew she deeply wished to live out by the sea; by the calming chaos of the crashing, foamy waves. Reflecting on this, one of her desires, he felt it suited her extremely well. The ocean was like one giant metaphor that encompassed who Nellie Lovett is. He wondered if she had ever been to this place. If, someday, she could find it in her very full heart to grant him the forgiveness he never deserved, he would bring her here. Though he couldn't give her what she deserved, the whole ocean, this would be like giving her a little part of it.
He could so vividly picture her dark eyes reflecting the water, shining beautifully as the moon bleached her already pale skin… Her eyes were looking down at him, full of lust, want, innocence, beauty, love, adoration, and so many unnameable things; her unkempt, auburn waves spilling forward, silhouetted in the moonlight… Splashing another handful of water in his face, he decided.
He needed her in his life. He couldn't even begin to justify it, but he just somehow knew… Never before had he belived in fate; he still didn't, but… She had been a part of his life for so long. But he realized that all this might be in vain. After all the hell they had both been through, there were no happy endings in their future.
haha, I saw the opportunity to quote "Conversations With Other Women" and I took it. :P Hope you all liked it; Sweeney's inner ramblings are sometimes a bit hard to get down in words. haha XD