Esteemed Malevolence

XLIII: Ambiguous

He must have fallen asleep at some point.

It was a ridiculous thing to do, even for him.

Yet the lull of the horses hooves beneath them, the dim flickering of the lit oil-lamp and the slight shudder of the hollow carriage walls forced his eyes to droop shut. It wasn't long before he was slumped against the wall of the coach, utterly disconnected from the traumatic truth of reality.

Sweeney Todd was completely exhausted.

He never usually gave away his tiredness, even if most of the time the bruised grey around his eyes told all. Yet after the events he'd witnessed that night, he was beyond caring.

Eleanor too, had become victim to sleep and pressed her left side up to the barber in order that she could rest her head on his shoulder. She still had Mr Todd's trench-coat wrapped around her like it was some sort of snug blanket. Even though she was mostly incoherent within her slumber, she could still feel the warmth of the man sat next to her, and that was enough comfort for her to seize those precious minutes of sleep.

It was after a couple of hours when the barber finally found his eyelids loosening. He instantly became very aware of the auburn-haired woman clinging to his person - he really didn't mind, he was thankful for some kind of warmth now that a cruel draft had seeped in through the cracks in the stagecoach's timbers.

He heard the tempting whisperings of sleep beckoning him to give in again through the faint golden glow of the carriage, but he willed himself to keep his eyes open.

His black eyes trailed towards the glass window pane a few timbers away from where his head rested against the wooden wall. He wasn't entirely sure what he anticipated seeing there, but he was internally unnerved when all he could see was the entire expanse outside painted a thick, dense black.

They'd likely been travelling for a great deal of hours now, yet the blanket of obsidian still clung to the night sky like some uninvited germ. The darkness was distracting and ever-lingering, reminding those awake just how intense and unforgiving it could be.

Like Eleanor had sensed that the man beside her was now awake in some sort of fashion, she quietly cracked open her eyes. She didn't even feel the need to shift herself away from him and from that feeling alone, she could tell that Sweeney was likely feeling the same too.

Quite clearly finding the silence between them unbearable, she inhaled sharply and moved her head a fraction.

"Where are we?" Eleanor breathed out - she was so unusually quiet that he only just heard her. Even she felt out of place disturbing the prolonging silence, but she knew that it had to shatter at some point.

He continued to miserably stare out into the abyss of black outside, ignoring her ridiculous question. He didn't intend to snub her on purpose but his mind was so fatigued with trying to comprehend the events of that night, that he found her voice to be something that only soothed his subconscious.

Eleanor winced when at least a minute had passed since she'd uttered her question, knowing full well that the man was likely lost in his cramped maze of wounded thoughts.

"Where are we even 'eaded?" she pressed, even though part of her knew she may have never gotten her desired answer from him.

"North." he reluctantly murmured tiredly, like saying one word was even too much effort for him. "We're 'eadin' North."

"And wot's 'at s'posed to mean?!" she whispered fiercely, finally straightening herself up to give him a bitter glare. She was sick of their future being some great big ambiguous question mark. After all, she was a woman who liked certainty and she couldn't stand the constant dreaded state of suspense they seemed to be stuck in.