nothing gold can stay | druig

part I

*one week prior*

Bright light streaming through the curtains woke Y/N that morning, her eyes squinted as she took in the unfamiliar sight. Though the sun didn't often show its face in Small Heath, she was glad it had decided to make an appearance today.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she registered the feeling of arms around her waist. She rolled over to face her brother in bed, surprised that he was still in her bed at this time. Usually, Tommy would leave before dawn arose, sneaking back into his room, leaving the spot beside her cold by the time she woke up.

But not today it would seem.

She took a moment to admire the serene expression on his face; it was a rare sight, to see Tommy Shelby look so peaceful. Most nights he would travel back to France in his dreams, and she would watch as his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed, and then his body would begin to shake. She'd wait for the tremors to subside before gently waking him with a kiss to the forehead, the feeling of her lips pressed to his skin easing him back into reality. Sometimes she would whisper kind words and sweet nothings, and he would tell her the horrors he had seen; other times they said nothing at all, and she would simply hold him tightly, as though he would break into a million pieces if she dared let go.

But she was thankful he'd had a pleasant enough sleep. She was also grateful that he had come to her in the night, instead of reaching for the opium, or...

"Good morning." A gruff voice said, interrupting her train of thought.

"Good morning, Tommy." She smiled up at him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmhmm," he mumbled in between a series of yawns.

"You must've done because it's daylight. You forgot to go back to your room."

His eyes still closed, Tommy sighed at the realisation that he had overslept.

"You have a busy night or something?" She asked, trying her best to sound nonchalant. He opened his eyes, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Even after all these years, she had never gotten used to the intensity of his gaze. He chose not to answer her question and began playing with the stray locks of hair that fell beside her rosy cheek.

"Did you see Grace?"

His fingers abruptly stopped his ministrations, and he rolled over onto his back. An awkward silence fell over the two of them, and She cursed herself for bringing it up. Of course he was with Grace, he was always with Grace now. She was lucky he still came to her in the night at all.

"We have a big day ahead of us," he said blankly as he sat upright on the bed, throwing his legs over the side and planting his feet on the cold hardwood floor.

She watched the way he ran his hands over his face, and she wondered what he was thinking about. He reached for the cigarettes on her nightstand, selecting one from the packet and placing it between his lips. She dutifully procured a box of matches from the drawer, and lit the cigarette as it hung from his mouth. It was a quirky habit they had formed, and one that was only performed in private. She liked that he trusted her with the naked flame, and he enjoyed the proximity that came with it.

He took a drag from his cigarette, and slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"...Tommy?" She swallowed, thickly.

"I know what you're going to ask me, and the answer's no, love." He replied.

She scowled at him, crossing her arms over her chest. It was the day of the annual Small Heath horse fair, and Y/N desperately wanted to go. She had so many fond memories of going to the fair as a child; sitting on Tommy's shoulders while they walked through the market, paddling her feet as the gypsies washed their horses in the river. Since Tommy's return from the war, however, he had kept her on a tight leash, rarely letting her leave the house, and she never went anywhere unaccompanied. He said it was for her own good, and she believed him, because when had Tommy Shelby ever been wrong?