Waking
The dawn is breaking,
The light shining through,
You're barely waking,
And I'm tangled up in you.
-Collide, Howie Day
He woke up once in the middle of the night to find her shivering. Sleepily, without even thinking about it, he pulled her closer to him and covered them both with his blanket. When he woke again in the morning, it was a fuzzy memory, a half-dream, soon forgotten.
The sunlight was minimal; it was his room and he liked it dark and dim. His wife…his wife…was still sleeping next to him. His head ached slightly; not a hangover exactly, he hadn't drank enough gin for that, but the ache reminded him of her. And of her pain. And her loss. He wondered if she would forgive him. It surprised him that he actually cared if she forgave him, but not nearly as much as it would have a week before.
He wasn't sure if he could call her Nellie; it seemed too much too soon. His lips were used to saying 'Mrs. Lovett.'
Mrs. Lovett.
Mrs. Lovett.
Mrs. Lovett.
There was something inherently pleasant about her name; he liked saying it, tasting the letters on his tongue like the demon barber tasted the moment of fear before the kill. They were both pleasant, but in their own way. He lay there in the dark room, thinking about it. His wife was sprawled across the bed, her head and upper torso using his chest as a pillow, her legs and waist tangled in the bedcovers. She moved a lot in her sleep; it made sense, seeing as how she was…used to be…such an active person in the daytime. She gave a deep sigh and moved a little, one arm sliding across his chest to rest closer to her cheek. He shivered at the contact, and all at once came to the realization that she was touching him. A lot.
More than that, she was half-laying on top of him. And the oddest part…he didn't mind. He wasn't exactly encouraging the contact, he wouldn't ask her to do this, but it didn't faze him. He wondered if he was ill. Sweeney Todd, Demon Barber of Fleet Street, hated people, Mrs. Lovett included. He didn't like to feel any touch except Lucy's. And Lucy was dead. He paused, waiting for the agonizing stab of loss. It came, but as a sigh, mournful but no longer heartbroken. He was healing. Against his will, he was healing.
Mrs. Lovett…Mrs. Todd…Nellie…Nell. Yes. Nell. Not too childish, not too formal. Exactly right. Nell stirred again, a little more this time. She was near wakefulness and Sweeney realized that she would probably have a very bad hangover. This was important. He ought to do something about this. Looking down at her head on his chest, he reveled in the sort of innocence she had in sleep. Her mouth hung open a little, but she was so relaxed, so comfortable. She hadn't been this relaxed since London…since he killed Toby.
He killed Toby.
There was a stab of something now, sharp and painful.
Guilt.
He couldn't remember the last time he felt guilty. All these new feelings washed over him and he felt as though this part of him had been asleep for a long time, like a flower waiting for spring. And he did not wish to go back to sleep. He wanted…he did not know what it was he wanted but he wanted something.
Ever-so-carefully, he removed her head from his chest and even felt a little remorse when she was gone. He had forgotten how it could be pleasant to have another person warming you with their own body heat.
Making his way to the kitchen, he put the kettle on for tea. A few mugs of strong tea in the morning had always erased his hangovers, when coupled with an apple and some cheese. He didn't know why the combination worked, but he knew that it did. But they had neither apples nor cheese; the pantry was nearly bare.
It was shopping day today. No wonder. He leaned back to see if his wife had stirred yet; she hadn't. If he popped out very quickly and got apples and a little cheese, surely she would still be asleep. Or he hoped so anyhow. Pulling on his jacket, he closed the front door very softly and rushed towards the market.
In his bed, Mrs. Eleanor Todd rolled over a little into the warm space he had left in the bed. Her sleep was deep and sound, the best she had experienced in a long time. Her eyelids flickered as she slipped into dreams.
REVIEWS PLEASE!
This has turned into a longer fic than I expected, but I will continue it because I want to know what happens just as much as you. All of you going back to college soon (along with me), best of luck this semester!