Esteemed Malevolence

XXXVI: Three

It was unusual for Sweeney Todd to sleep in, let alone sleep at all. Yet that night, he'd slept soundly, even with Eleanor hugging to his perpiring form. He habitually hated her invading his privacy, especially when he woke, but that morning he couldn't hide his expression of contented relief.

Memories of his night of murderous fulfillment, and their night of omni-present passion, came back to him in delightful slices as he rubbed his eyes. Memories of the Judge sliding out of the barber's bloodied throne caused him to smirk, and it only broadened, once he recalled the feel of Eleanor Lovett as she'd pushed her body in time to meet his...

Eleanor's lips brushed against his chest as she murmured something in her sleep and he frowned down at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He found her incoherent utterings to be rather amusing and decided to lay there for a bit, listening to her sleeping.

He cautiously brought a hand up to her head, and stroked her hair back so that he could see more of her face. He adored her when she was peaceful, with a small smile upon her lips, and most importantly, she was quiet. He could watch her sleeping for hours, just admiring her beauty alone. He was that content, that he struggled to keep his eyes open, and his eyelids shielded the sight of her - he continued to stroke her hair back to ensure he could still feel her within his touch.

With her completely at ease, and draped over him, he knew that this was definitely something that he could get used to.

Deciding that he wanted to make a nice impression on this morning (he still felt like he needed to celebrate his independence if some way), he opened his eyes as an idea formed in his head, studying her on top of him. She was still sound asleep in her presumably elated dreams, and he couldn't help a proud smirk touching upon his lips.

He placed a chaste kiss to her forehead and then carefully took his hands from her, shuffling himself out from beneath her. He hated the feeling of absence once her warm skin left his body, but he was content knowing that he would only feel it again and again, now that he'd make sure to wake up every morning with her.

He reluctantly swivelled out from the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, strands of jet hair loosely falling before his eyes as he slowly reached down for his discarded clothes.

As he shrugged on his trousers, he grew curious about whether Eleanor had woken - so he shot her a glance over his shoulder. He smirked at the sight of her - she'd snuggled into the pillows, completely oblivious that Sweeney (whose name she still quietly mumbled) had left her. He turned his attention to the ground as he cautiously stood up, the cold hitting him instantaneously.

Gritting his teeth, he snatched up his bloodied shirt to shove it on over his head. He attempted to tuck the blasted thing in, and then briefly looped his neckties in a neat fashion, finishing by snapping on his braces. He pondered about putting on his belt... but didn't think it was a good idea, the noise of the buckle would be sure to wake up Eleanor.

With one last look towards her, he smiled briefly before he skulked over her bedroom floor in his bare feet.

He intended to make a kind gesture towards her this morning... he hadn't the slightest notion why, he just... felt the need to do something for her.

Slipping through her bedroom door successfully, he softly shut it behind him, frowning at the sight of the fiery ambience of the parlour.

Due to his line of sight, the first thing he saw was the settee - which was currently very much occupied by Miss Fiori. His eyebrows knitted into an uncomfortable wince, because he hadn't expected her presence and he didn't really know what to say to the girl. Parenting certainly wasn't something he knew how to approach... considering that he'd not too long ago attacked his daughter, it was proving hard for him to adjust to who she was. Not to mention, proving hard to adjust to who he was to her.