My Cutthroat Romance

Chapter 18

Sweeney looked up suddenly as the door to his left opened. Gerard stood holding out some shirts on hangers, refusing to look at him.

“Mum cleaned these for you.” He mumbled.

“Thank you…there’s a wardrobe in the other room…put them in there.” The barber muttered back, suddenly feeling awkward himself.

Gerard did as he had been told. The bedroom looked like it hadn’t even been used since Mr. Todd had returned to it. It probably hadn’t, seeing as he seemed not to sleep, or eat like any normal person might. He was careful not to unsettle any dust on the door of the wardrobe as he opened and closed it, strangely compelled to let it remain utterly perfect, before he left the room and returned to the barber’s shop. He hovered awkwardly there for a moment or two before the silence was broken.

“Why are you still here?” Mr. Todd asked.

He honestly hadn’t meant to sound so rude; it was just the way the words came out.

“Oh, I was just wondering if you’d even slept since you got back.” Gerard mumbled.

“No…why?”

“It’s just nothing in there looks like it’s been touched in fifteen years.”

Gerard mentally slapped himself. He could have said twelve or seventeen or anything else but no, he had to say fifteen.

“Funny you should say that…” The barber replied through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Gerard mumbled.

"Be a lad; go down the shop for me, get a bottle or so of gin and something for yourself, eh?"

Gerard looked shocked as he took the money from the barber's hand, nodding.

"I appreciate the favor." Todd said, patting Gerard's shoulder as he left.

He just couldn't bring the words 'thank you' from his mind for some reason, but it was good enough. His reason behind the favor was beyond him; of course, Mrs. Lovett needed more gin, but what on earth did [i]he[/i] need it for? It would help him sleep, yes, but what good would sleeping do him if he would simply wake up at some ridiculous hour, shaking, frantic and reeling from nightmares? No good at all, all it would do is torment him further. He didn't want to be tormented; he didn't even want to kill anyone, save for the judge and the Beadle, but something had to give.

Somehow, subconsciously, he had returned to pacing, utterly lost within the inner workings of his own mind. Someone probably could have fired a gun and he wouldn't have noticed until five minutes had passed. When he realized this he stopped to gaze out of the window at the city as twilight fell upon it, marveling at how entranced a man can become by his own thoughts.

"Mr. Todd?"

He turned at the sound of Gerard's voice.

"That was quick." He commented quietly.

"I'm used to the journey. It's something of a habit I suppose. Here you go anyway; I got two bottles for up here and two for downstairs." Gerard replied

He held out the bag with two glass bottles tinkling away inside it. The barber thanked him as took it.

"Want me to get you a glass?" Gerard asked.

"Get two...we'll share it...if you’d like to, that is." Sweeney suggested hesitantly.

“Yeah? Yeah…okay.” Gerard nodded slowly.

He left and returned in less than a minute, setting the glasses down on the dresser and stepping back to let Mr. Todd pour the drinks.

What kind of madness was he getting himself into? Either way, it didn’t particularly matter too much, so pushing his thoughts out of his head, he poured some gin into the glasses and handed one to Gerard.