Part VI

Four days later.

Nellie slowly trundled into her shop, smiling at Mr Todd, who was already seated in his usual place for breakfast, eyeing the table with no interest.

"Mornin' Mr T!" she exclaimed cheerfully, beaming a radiant smile over at him. "Good sleep? Ay?"

He said nothing and just frowned, glaring at the newspaper on the opposite side of the table. How had he forgotten about that? He'd promised himself that he'd get rid of it! And yet he hadn't!

Mrs Lovett hummed a tune, and frowned curiously at his state of alarm from her place by the counter. He was sat up, straight backed, stiff and proper and clearly something was on his mind as he stared down at the newspaper, chewing his lip.

After a while, (he still hadn't moved an inch) Eleanor smiled and brought him a plate full of breakfast, pile of toast precariously placed on the edge of the plate. She carefully set it down in front of him. He quickly lifted his head up to face her, eyes wide and unafraid of looking at her. She jumped and gulped, eyes just as bright when she met his eyes.

He lowered his gaze back down to the plate and mumbled his thanks, and she scuttled away from him as fast as she could. She took her own plate from her counter and took as much time as she could muster so that she wouldn't have to react to that odd gaze he held...

Sweeney's eyes widened further when she took the seat opposite him, smiling happily.

He snatched the newspaper away from her view, tearing it to shreds in his hands, rendering her speechless.

"... M-Mr T? I were gonna read that." she stated matter-of-factly. "No use torn t'pieces now, is it?"

"It was rather dull anyway. There was nothing suspicious reported." he piped up, quickly necking his tea and gobbling up his food to busy himself; anything he could do to stop himself from having to talk about that damn newspaper. Luckily his words were a suffice cover-up - he would usually meticulously check the papers to see if anyone had cottoned onto his killings - no one had so far - so Mrs Lovett would hopefully think nothing about his reaction.

"Mr T! I can't believe ya! I've cooked ya a breakfast, given ya a roof over y'head and now... "

"Yes. Well, I've saved heartbreak for you this time round Mrs Lovett. If you'd read that newspaper, you'd been in floods of tears. And... I've already seen enough of that this past week. I do not need to see it again."

She slurped her tea and frowned, wondering what the hell he was on about. What was in it that would hurt her so much? It can't have been that bad! Most of the stories in the papers were fluke tales anyway, no one really believed them. She scoffed and bit into a slice of toast, childishly giving her tenant the most evil eyes she could muster. Unfortunately, it was no use as he was too focused on looking down at the plate of food he was eating, so it was a lost emotion as the minutes went by. He was acting... oddly. Something he'd seen in the paper had clearly touched a nerve with him...

She lifted up her cup and saucer, bringing it to her lips as she studied him.

The barber paused, dropping his knife and fork onto the plate with a clatter.

He looked up, meeting her studious eyes, and frowned.

"What?"

"Why'd ya rip up the newspaper?"

"You'd never forgive me if I told you. You probably wouldn't be able to live with yourself... " he whispered, pausing as he took in a shuddered breath. "... you'd be like me. And I don't want you to be like me... I'm... lifeless. Only existent for one purpose. You know that."

Her eyes lost their care-free emotion, instead taking on something hopeless and... sad. What did he mean? He wasn't only existent for one purpose - at least, not in her eyes. Clearly Mr Todd thought different to her.

She shook her head, not quite following his drift, "Why? Why would I be like you, Mr T?"

He sighed, seeing no other way out of it.

He was going to have to tell her...

"I... don't wanna 'urt you," he whispered, wincing into an uncomfortable flinch of confusion, like he wasn't certain about what was exiting his mouth. "If I tell you, you'll never forgive me."

She tutted and rolled her eyes, placing her cup of tea back on the table. "Come on! It can't be 'at bad!"

"Toby." he said quite simply, raven eyes suddenly sad, lifeless.

Eleanor searched his eyes, confused and lost in horror stricken thoughts. She'd left Toby on his own, to fend for himself... What had happened? Was the boy alright? She knew she shouldn't have just shouted at him like that... He...

In truth she had expected him back by now. And she'd completely forgotten about the lad... after all, she was still recovering from... the attack. She'd needed to get her own life back on track first.

"Toby," Mr Todd repeated, voice still stern to ensure his sincerity. "He's... he's dead, Eleanor. I'm... I'm sorry..."

Eleanor sat, motionless, mouth opening and closing, words choking and not registering.

"D-Dead?"

He stood up quickly, rushing to the other side of the table to tend to her. She crumbled then, when he pulled her from the chair to embrace her in comfort. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sniffling the only thing the two of them could hear, apart from the occasional hushes from Sweeney. She clung to him, hands gripping his chest for (what seemed like) dear life. Her body collided into his, counting on him to support her body.

"Sh, I'm here... Shh... "

A month later.

Nellie faked a smile, waving off the rest of her customers, clearing away the dirty plates.

She huffed, drooping her eyes to stop herself from breaking down. Her bones were slowly turning in a pile of a dust, she was barely able to stand upright by herself. The exhaustion and fatigue was really getting to her; she had to do so much on her own, still plodding on through her grief and guilt.

She scrubbed the counter, needing to busy herself to wipe away her thoughts on Toby... innocent, abandoned... deceased, little... Toby.

The door opened, bell ringing out and alarming her.

"Sorry," she choked out, turning her back to them and trying not to cry. "we're closed..."

"I thought you'd want some 'elp." Mr Todd's voice said lowly, causing her to rotate to face him.

"Mr T? Why... I... "

"You've already done enough work." he told her, advancing towards the counter with a stern expression. "For... the funeral I mean. You go lie yourself down, 'ave a rest... "

"No. I need t'do somethin'. I can't go t'sleep... 'e'll be there... hauntin' me!"

"He won't," he whispered, eyes glittering with friendly looking shadows. "I want to help you, Eleanor. Please, just let me."

"Why should I? I'm copin' perfectly well!"

He cleared his throat and motioned to the tables behind him, all cluttered with dirty pots and plates, togs and tips. She sighed and held her head in her hands, over the recently cleaned counter.

"I'm not,"she admitted, sniffling into her palms. "Lord knows I'm... not... "

"Then... " he breathed, suddenly standing next to her, swivelling her around to face him. "Let me help you."

She straightened her back, taking her hands away from her head to look at him. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, tears cutting into her flushed cheeks. He winced when he gazed into her eyes, not liking the way she looked at him with such a reflection of himself... grieving, falling, longing.

He took hold of her hands, no longer allowing her to bring them up to cover her tears.

She looked up at him through sore eyes, realising just how close to her he actually was. Her eyelids drooped when his head dipped slightly, his own eyes repeating her action. He brought her hands up so they rested on his chest, their noses just touching... mouths twitching as they were a mere centimetre away from the others...His hands dropped from her own, arms gently curling protectively around her curvy middle.

"Mrs Lo - Oh. S-Sorry ma'am... " a boy's voice called out from somewhere to the side of them, where the door was. Eleanor cleared her throat and took herself away from the barber, shooting a forced smile towards the lad.

"S'alright love. Can I 'elp ya?"

She cast an innocent glance over to Sweeney, who was studying her with those glossy black eyes of his. He was fascinated by how she could just flit from one emotion to the next - what he found even more impressive was that she was brilliant at feigning such cheer, whilst he could only just about pull off being welcoming and persuasive.

The boy coughed and walked further in, no longer finding the moment awkward. The shop's door slammed behind him and he jumped, eyeing the two adults nervously.

"Uhm... I jus' wondered... Well, we're lightin' some lanterns for Toby on Hampstead Heath... Me bein' one of 'is friends o' course," he rambled, wringing his hands. "Was just wonderin' if you'd w-wanna join us?"

Eleanor smiled and nodded, tears beginning to fill her eyes again.

"G-Great!" he cried, eyes lighting up. "We'll start lightin' 'em when you get there!"

He scampered out of the shop, forgetting to stop the door slamming after himself.

Eleanor wrapped her scarf around her neck, exiting her shop, already shivering from the cold.

She cuddled her arms around herself, biting her blue lips to warm them up.

"Eleanor!" Sweeney shouted, causing her to halt and turn to face him. He raced down the stairs, dressed in his trench coat and some old fingerless he'd probably found from god knows where.

"You're not goin' on your own are you?" he asked breathlessly, jogging up to her, hands rubbing together for warmth.

She frowned, studying him quizzically, "I always go places on me own, 'cos you never want t'go wiv me."

"I... do. I've only just... realised."

She sighed and nodded, silently accepting his presence by her side. There was really no point arguing with him, or even figuring out what him wanting to 'be with her' really meant. Her thoughts weren't focusing properly at all.

She started walking immediately, meaning once again Sweeney had to run to catch her up. They rounded the corner, entering a more deserted street. The cyan moon beams rained down over them as they walked at a steady pace, in a dramatic silence that Sweeney felt quite uncomfortable with - for once. There wasn't anyone else on the street apart from rogues and pickpockets, but since they saw that wicked gleam of white in Sweeney's hair... they tended to step right back to where they'd come from.

Soon, after endless gas lit streets, and twists and turns; they had arrived at Hampstead Heath, where a group of kids of all ages (just above or below the age Toby had been), gathered beneath some trees. It was easy to say that the children were his friends, they all smiled at them both when the couple came over to them. The moon was big and already had a tremendous glow to illuminate the blades over grass under their feet.

The lanterns were lain out next to a little flowing stream, the water was set deep in the dip in between the hill they were all stood on, and another deserted one which was nearby.

The kids were laughing and queuing up in front of the tallest boy there, who held a box of matches in his hand.

"What do we do?" Sweeney whispered, not getting a single acknowledgement from Eleanor. He wasn't entirely sure what the lighting of lanterns was supposed to do, he found it rather pointless... but if it was going to give Eleanor some kind of comfort, he would watch quietly with her by his side.

She sat down on the grass, a small smile gracing her lips as the children chattered loudly, excitedly.

"Sit." she whispered, patting the crisp blades of grass next to her. He obliged, slowly setting himself down next to her, gazing at her face, and longing for her to turn so he could just look into her eyes, to try and understand what she was feeling at that moment.

Now, all the children had lit matches, and rushed down the hill, sprinting towards the abandoned lanterns by the trickling river.

Eleanor smiled and shuffled closer to Sweeney, taking hold of his hand. "Thank you." she whispered, lifting up her head to face him. He nodded, stern expression on his features. He wasn't giving much away.

The children held the lanterns up as far up as they could reach, flicking the candle into the main box where the candle wick was stood. They all counted to three, and then threw the lanterns into the sky, lighting up the atmosphere with a multicoloured glow. They gasped and huddled together, pointing up at them as they floated higher and higher into the air.

Sweeney squeezed her hand, flickering lanterns reflected in his eyes.

Eleanor turned to face him, sitting even nearer to him to explore his eyes. He swallowed and gazed back at her, placing his arms around her. The lanterns were flying high now, all of them would be able to have been seen from miles away, the colours spreading across the sky.

He brought her closer, getting a tight grip around her waist. She closed her eyes and leaned forward into him, letting him know how much she really trusted him. His eyelids dropped and he felt her nose brush over his... her plump, throbbing lips pushed against his, her arms untangling to rub her hands over his chest. She whimpered, pulling back; he frowned in a bewildered way but she didn't react, didn't even take her hands away from him.

"I love you," she whispered, eyes clearing of empty grey clouds, and now she was dying for him to say it back.

He opened his mouth, trying to say something, but he couldn't find his voice. She took a deep breath and lifted her head to catch his lips, slipping her tongue through his lips, meeting his own inside. As he kissed her, and as much as he tried to deny it to himself, Sweeney knew he mirrored her feelings towards him, only they were for her instead. Her scent was now permenant and prominent to his senses; her touch was becoming more and more familiar... he liked it.

As the lanterns flew higher, and the children's gasps slowly faded away; the barber and the baker seemed to drift into their own little world, too lost in the romance of one another to pay attention to anything else. All the lies they'd told each other, all the promises they'd broken, all of the insults they'd taken... they just...

Shattered.

Burst into a million pieces.

Their feelings for each other were certified there and then, one feeling the other's passion in their caresses and their kisses.

It was their own revelation; their own escapism.

Secrets were shared through sensations.

And they both liked what they found out.