Ghosts of Fleet Street

[l u c i d `]

Alexis leaned against her broom wearily, letting her cheek rest on her hands as they gripped the top of the stick lighly. She raised a brow at his words then laughed, "It's why you've been here every night. You want what's up in the attic. I'm not that thick. And you're not the only one, I'm sure."

[Egyptian Myth]

He glared at her slightly - it was only felt, though, not seen. "... I'm not hungry." Only a partial lie. His stomach had adjusted to go nearly two days ignoring hunger before it really started to take notice. As he spoke he went swiftly through the open gate and made for the stairs; the way he moved was strange, speedy yet as elegantly as if in slow-motion, footsteps silent on the cobblestone.

[l u c i d `]

"Mmhm," came her light reply, not fazed by his glare. She pushed herself up off her broom once he was inside the gate and left it to lean against the door. She followed him up the stairs cautiously though all her senses seemed to tell her not too. She didn't know this fellow, didn't even know his name.. He could kill her for all she knew. Yet a part of her highly doubted he'd try that.

"It's unlocked," she said once they reached the door, gesturing for him to open it.

[Egyptian Myth]

He knew it was unlocked, he had been watching. Opening it, he stepped inside as if suddenly walking on holy ground, gazing around the room. His eyes wandered to the floor, then to a certain floorboard near the window. He stared a moment, then walked there, looking down at it. He crouched down, then got to his knees, pale, partially-gloved hands feeling across the wood. He noticed some of the dust had been disturbed by dainty fingers. His fingertips felt the ends of the board, carefully prying it up and setting it aside to peer into the shadows at a small box. Its dust too, had been disrupted. He reached for it slowly, as if afraid the mere closeness of his hands would make it disappear.

His fingers curled around the box gently, lifting it out of the hole. He scooted back to make room for it on the floor before him, then setting it there. He opened the lid carefully. Black-brown eyes, presently filled with all sorts of feelings impossible to describe, were now visible through his hair, staring inside at the silver blades that shone innocently within.

[l u c i d `]

Alexis remained in the doorway, a hand propped on her hip as she watched him, her eyes wide with wonder. The way he moved across the room towards that certain floorboard made her feel as if this room was sacred to him in some way she didn’t quite understand. Perhaps that was how she seemed to be when she first entered the shop, gazing around at everything for the first time in silent awe.. She remained quiet, gaze flicking to the window for a moment, lips pursing thoughtfully before her green orbs, which seemed to be glowing now in the candlelight, settled on him once more.

He took great care to lift to box from it’s hidden place in the floor and she continued to watch, studying his movements and reactions, as he opened it. The way his eyes shone made her think of how a child would look at a long awaited gift with adoration. She leaned against the frame of the door after a moment, hand still on her hip, and continued to keep silent. She felt as if she couldn’t break the silence, even if she wanted to. She would be interrupting a very important moment..

[Egyptian Myth]

He grasped a blade in his thumb and index and middle fingers, studying its amazingly clean shine as he stood. He stared at it for what seemed like an hour, and finally the completed wonder left his eyes, his gaze then wandering to the window that exposed a black, dreary world outside. He walked to it, staring out at the city and then the street below with bitter, hate-filled eyes. Pale fingers carefully felt the intricate handle and smooth blade of the silver razor held at his side.
The silence became choking as loathing oozed from the man's slender form and his intense glare, crawling down one's throat and suffocating them from the inside out.

[l u c i d `]

Alexis felt her skin crawl from the absolute loathing that seemed to radiate from the man. She repressed a shiver and looked at the window too, remaining where she was for a brief moment before she wandered over quietly and stood beside him. She crossed her arms loosely over her chest, gazing out at the dingy city, her expression carefully blank, though something dark glinted in her eyes.

She wasn’t fond of London, nor it’s justice system, and she longed to escape yet she never found that she could.

“You can just keep those then,” she said suddenly, pulling herself away from her rather painful thoughts. “S’not like I need them..” her voice was soft as she repeated herself and she glanced at up at him, frowning slightly.

[Egyptian Myth]

The man muttered something under his breath - although unclear, whatever he had said seemed somehow chilling and ominous. He turned and strode back to the box of razors, picking it up gently and then walking to set it on the dresser that clung to the wall near the window. He set the razor he held back inside, then stared down at them all again. He couldn't take them out to the street.. although he was skilled at keeping pickpockets away, with such valuable silver - not to mention the fact they were Sweeney Todd's - they would be taken from him one way or another. His brow furrowed slightly, sorrow swirling in his dark eyes now. Perhaps this glimpse and brief feel of them would satiate him enough that he could migrate to other parts of London... perhaps not.
He turned towards the woman, eyes on the floor. "... I can't take them." He said quietly. A pause. ".... I'll be going. My apologies... for troubling you." Another pause, before he began for the door, not striding nor gliding.