XXI: Unaware

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The next three hours before closing time passed by in a long, demented blur for Eleanor Lovett. Her brain had been consumed by the thought of how Mr Todd would react - she kept flicking her eyes over to the invitations whenever she was trapped beside her counter, also recalling the sincerity of the mysterious young girl, now known to be named Miss Fiori...

She wouldn't mention the undertaker to Mr Todd. She couldn't. Even if she was going to accept the strange offer of assistance with body disposal... she wouldn't let him catch on. The idea of the Judge's invitation would be enough of a shock for the man, she didn't think adding to that would be a good idea.

And it wasn't like she was lying to him.

Yet why was it that she felt that feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach?

That feeling didn't disappear, even when the last of the lingering customers trailed out of her courtyard - with that cue, she started to lock up the doors of her shop - luckily she'd cleared up the majority of plates as she'd dished out pies that evening. Due to her overwhelming concerns she'd felt the need to keep busy at all times.

She huffed out an exhausted sigh once she retired to her parlour, smiling sadly at the bottle of gin on the side-table beside the settee. The cushions, illuminated by the crackling fire, looked inviting, and felt even better once she laid out her fatigued body over the furnishings. For a brief moment, she let herself close her eyes, the only thing she saw was the recent memory of Sweeney's face in the darkness of her bake-house, his deep black eyes studying her features intently...

The sight of him in her mind's eye relaxed her further, her senses completely out of reality, lost in the imaginary world of her dark barber and the retreat by the sea...

Due to her head being away with the fairies, Eleanor wasn't aware that the very man she dreamed of that second, was gently shutting the parlour door, black irises gleaming with seductive intent. His footsteps were quiet thuds, not a single shoe scrape alerting her... she must have been well and truly lost in her slumber.

"Mmm... " she mumbled, to which a smirk grew on his lips, his legs advancing towards her that little bit quicker. "Ohhh Mr T... yes... do 'at again..."

He raised a brow. It was clear what sort of dream his accomplice was having - apparently their little rendezvous earlier hadn't been enough for her. Well, if he was honest with himself, it hadn't been enough for him either.

Eventually, he reached her side.

She was sprawled out over the settee, her skull tilted back lazily into her half-pinned mess of faded red locks, and then into the cushions. Due to her position, her throat was completely exposed, so it was only natural for Sweeney to take the opportunity to study the pale flesh there. He wondered whether her positioning was the same in her fantasy... if so, he then pondered about what he was doing to her.

His smirk evolved into a wicked grin.

What would happen if he touched her then? Would she wake? Would she lie still, absorbed in fright?

He dropped down, kneeling over the salvaged rug beneath his knees, watching her brief twitches as a smile appeared on her lips. She continued to mutter unrepeatable expressions out of her mouth, and he grinned wider. Deciding he couldn't be passive any longer, he confidently raised an arm up, firmly stroking his thumb over the shape of her jawline.

He expected her to wake in a frenzy, but instead, a low chuckle bubbled from her... he tilted his head to the side, his amusement replaced with sombre interest.

He took his hand from her, but only so that he could lean forwards, resting his bent elbows on the couch below. His face hovered over hers, the bridge of his nose almost touching her nose's skin. His intense eyes stared at her peaky eyelids, then trailed over all of her other features that he could see without moving his head. He was certain that she was able to feel the breaths that he was pushing out onto her face... he then presumed, now knowing that Mrs Lovett dreamed of him quite intimately, that her fantasies would probably be full of ridiculously realistic details, so that was probably why she was unaware that he was even there.

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