Illusions That Confine Us

Chapter Twelve

The two were both soaking wet from head to toe as Mrs. Lovett sighed heavily and plopped herself down right next to Mr. Todd on the settee.

"I never thought that fishing could take a lot out of you." Mrs. Lovett said before smiling, "I guess that's the price of getting old."

"Yeah." Sweeney responded, his lips twitching into a slight grin.

They sat a while, slouching carelessly on the settee as Mr. Todd sat as far away from his wife as he possibly could before a question popped into his head.

"Exactly how old are you, Mrs-" He paused a moment, "Pet?"

Mrs. Lovett laughed at his question for a second before looking at him and noticing from the expression on his face that he was serious.

Mr. Todd never really gave it much thought at how old Mrs. Lovett was, as a matter of fact he never really cared. But right now, he was curious and wanted to know.

Mrs. Lovett blinked as his face remained solemn and serious, she then cleared her throat and replied, "W-what?"

"How old are you?" He repeated.

"You're not serious are you?" She asked, a bit irritated with his question.

"It's just a simple question." He stated amiably, "I don't see why you can't simply answer me."

"Fine," She said, "I'm thirty-six."

"Mrs. Lovett." He scolded.

"Alright I'm forty-two. I'm an old beldam." She grumbled, "I don't see why it matters anyway… It's just a number."

"Funny," Mr. Todd smirked, "You don't look a day over thirty-two."

Mrs. Lovett's face lit up at his compliment, which it was, for him.

"Aw, ya mean it?" She smiled, he was being so decent, nice even.

"Why not?" He replied honestly.

Mrs. Lovett then sat up and scooted nearer to him, sitting her elbow on the back of the settee and resting her cheek on her fist.

"Tell me then," She began. "How old are you?" She asked him, although she already had a pretty good idea as to how old he was.

"Forty-five." He stated.

"That's not too old." Mrs. Lovett replied, "I always thought that we were the age that we acted like."

Mr. Todd grumbled before thinking about what she just said. He found it rather odd how lately, he found himself actually listening to what she had to say.

Another smile curled across her lips after thinking, "If we are the age that we act than you must be in your late seventies."

"And why do you say that?"

"Well you do act like a grumpy old fart most of the time."

His brows stitched together into a frown.

"Oh come now…" She laughed, "I was only joking."

He thought for a minute, "Well if age is just a number, and if we are the age that we acted, than why was it such a big deal for you to tell me how old you are?"

Mrs. Lovett was slightly taken aback by his question, today was probably the most she'd heard him speak in months.

"I'm not sure that I know, I just don't want ya thinkin' that you're married to some old lady." She replied quietly.

"You're not an old lady." He said back.

With his kind words and his sudden sense of sensitivity, Mrs. Lovett was more mesmerized than ever before by him. So she moved herself a little closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Noticing her sudden closeness, he subconsciously put his arm around her waist.

He faltered, and when he realized that she was leaning in to kiss him, he then took her arms off from around his neck and stood up.

He awkwardly looked around the room, deliberately avoiding her saddened gaze from clearing his throat and heading out the hall to the backroom.

There he goes again. She thought sadly, keeping her eyes locked onto the door he just walked out of.

Moments later, Alfred came trotting in and hopped onto Mrs. Lovett's lap, purring immediately when he felt the gentle brush of her hand stroke his orange back.

This was so wrong. He thought as he paced around in the backroom. But lately, it seemed as though it was becoming more and more right. She was his wife, why couldn't they at least get a little intimate with each other? But at the same time, the idea of it seemed completely and utterly preposterous. She was his former landlady, accomplice… Not to mention she wasn't Lucy.

Maybe if he did it once, just once to get it off his back and hopefully to get her off of his, would make all of their problems go away.

No. He couldn't, he couldn't possibly. In fact it was likely that it would make their situation worse. Not to mention, Sweeney Todd had no need nor no desire for her advances.

Wait-

WHAT WAS HE THINKING!?

It had just occurred to him that things had gotten to the point in their so called 'relationship' that he was actually trying to make things better, he was actually considering the inevitable.

And that's what it was. The inevitable. There was no sense in trying to run away from it, it was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not.

Every time they kissed, every time that she looked at him desirably was just another step towards the output that he knew was going to happen.

Suddenly, Mr. Todd stopped his continuous pacing and looked out his window to see a ship in the distance.

-that was unless he left.

That night at dinner, things seemed to have gone back to the way they were. Silence.

"Pet?" Mr. Todd began, mentally wincing when Mrs. Lovett responded by wiping her mouth with the napkin that was folded on her lap and replying with an annoyed cold stare.

He looked down at his plate. "I wanted to let you know that I am going to be leaving soon."

She said nothing and continued to stare at him as he cleared his throat and continued on with what he had to say, "I am going to be boarding a ship and leaving, presumably within the next week or so. I am going to try and get on one with a group of foreigners, so I shouldn't be notic-"

He stopped as soon as he heard her fork get dropped onto her plate. She then put her elbows onto the table and rested her forehead in her palms.

"Why do you keep doing this?" She asked, her eyes shut and livid.

He remained silent as she stood up and gathered their dishes.

"I just don't understand what I do wrong." She began angrily, "I feed you, I do your laundry, I run around acting like your bloomin' maid for London's sake."

When she went into the parlor, he followed her, listening to her rant and watching as she picked up random things to dust and polish.

"I didn't say you did anything wrong." He suddenly mumbled, causing her to pause and stare at him.

"Than why are you leaving? Why?!" She yelled as she picked up a glass vase.

"Because I have to!" he replied, half yelling, "I just don't want this to become more of a mess that it already is."

She stared at him and said nothing, she looked as if she was on the verge of tears.

"What do you want from me?!" He shouted back, getting annoyed with her behavior.

Mrs. Lovett's face turned a beat red, "What do I want?!" She practically screamed, "You're all I bloody wanted!"

And in her fury and anger, she threw the vase at him, causing it to smash against the wall behind him and shatter to the floor in pieces.

In a sense, you could say that, it was just what he had done to her heart.

And the meltdown continues... o.O

Helloooo everyone!

Pandora Spocks here and I am here to say that yesterday was my last day!

(Of school, I mean…)

I know that people back in the day didn't usually live too long but... this is my story, so in my story they are close to Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter's age. Comprende?

I hope this chapter was alright for you(: Expect the next one soon…