Esteemed Malevolence

XII: Unconventional Bonding

The couple were doing remarkably well. It was a surprise how efficiently they had moved the corpse - ever so quickly, ever so quietly. Even though it was fairly busy, no one had so much as batted an eyelid in their direction.

It was obvious the two had done this before. Or at least, that's what their keen observer thought, peering over the roof's ledge, brim of the stove-pipe hat acting as a veranda to cast a shadow over their face. Their pale, slender hands clutched to the crumbling tiles, physically gripped to the scene occurring over the cobbles below. Their knuckles were chapped and red raw. However the cold didn't seem to bother them as they were too amazed by what they were seeing.

The barber and the baker had reached half way across Fleet Street - it seemed that the body's arm now had a mind of its own as it kept falling down to swing loosely by the man's side... and it was proving difficult for Sweeney not to express his annoyance, but he gritted his teeth and merely folded the arm back into its place. Over. And over. And over.

Mrs Lovett on the other hand, was completely at ease. Unlike Mr Todd, she moved dead bodies on a daily basis and sometimes much heavier ones than the blighter they were transporting now. The fact she had help made it easier though, and not quite as stressful on her bones as it usually was.

'Not to mention, I 'ave an excuse to look at 'im... ' she thought to herself, corner of her mouth curling up into a smirk.

She could have gotten used to this.

It wasn't long until they had finally reached her shop.

The watcher was still present as Eleanor backed towards her shop's door, shuffling in backwards as Sweeney followed, still gripping tightly to the body. Before he entered the door, he paused.

And took a brief glance to the left.

And then to the right.

"Everythin' alright, love?" Mrs Lovett asked, her voice full of concern yet somehow still so airy like what the two were doing was a habitual activity.

It really wasn't.

"Yes." he replied emptily, turning his head to stare back at her - his eyes revealed his frustration, though she imagined it wasn't just because of the deceased victim in their arms. "I'm fine. Now come on, let's get 'im to the bake'ouse."

He wasn't fine. He was everything but fine.

She continued heading backwards slowly, but almost tripped when she felt him impatiently pushing the body towards her - forcing her to speed up her actions. She skidded back into the middle of her shop, almost hitting the counter.

She really wished that she was the one who could see where they were going - she didn't really trust him to raise his voice if she was about to walk back-first into something dangerous.

She loved him. Adored him. Lusted after him.

But she didn't trust him.

He would always be devious.

Then again, that is perhaps why they were the perfect match.

Because so was she.

The two of them wrestled with each end of the dead man as they attempted to shove him through the door to the parlour. Eventually they managed to push him through, although the two of them had wasted a lot of energy doing so, and were both breathing excessively hard.

They carried the carcass over to the doors of the bake-house...

The two of them stood there for a moment, still holding onto the body as they caught each other's gazes, hints of smirks forming over their lips.