It's the roaring twenties in Birmingham, the Peaky Blinders exist alongside God but they were much, much closer at hand than Him. Mercedes de Silva, thornless withered rose, petals filled with sorrow. Thomas Shelby, ruthlessly ambitious, conflicted...
Alfie Solomons was more than willing to take the burden off of her shoulders, even if meant adding weight to his own.
The Jewish gangster placed his arm around her tiny waist as they descended the stairs towards the great hall. As the doorman opened the entrance to the hall, they were welcomed by the jazz music playing throughout the big room. There were a lot of people swaying to the melodic, sweet voice of the woman singing on the stage.
"Fuck, there's so many people in here," Mercy muttered under her breath as she looked at the guests her eyes can reach. She felt suffocated just by looking at them, Mercy grabbed a cocktail of martini for her and Alfie as a server passed by them.
"D'ya wanna go home?" Alfie whispered in her left ear, she quickly shrugged and swallowed the entire content of martini, "I don't want this," she picked up the skewered olives, dropping it on Alfie's glass.
"To be fair, I don't want 'tis shit either. Shoulda brought a barrel of rum for us," replied Alfie, looking down at his drink. They choose an empty table near the balcony of the music hall, "You don't see anyone familiar?" Mercy asked as they watched the dancing crowd.
"I do, I just don't wanna speak with 'em," he replied dryly before downing the stomach-churning drink. One of the reasons he disliked attending charity balls, if not for the woman sitting next to him, was that these high society events only served wine, martinis, or champagne. His mouth and stomach only accept a drink that goes by the name white rum.
Alfie looked at her, "I'll get somethin' for ya to eat," before she could even nod, Alfie already blended in the crowd. Mercy wanted to slouch but it would make her unladylike, she raised her hand as a server passed by the table.
The man smiled at her, "By any chance, do you serve gin?" Mercy asked, scratching the back of her nape. She cannot stand the taste of martini, her tongue was longing for the bittersweet flavor of the drink.
"Well, I think I can manage to sneak you some, are you willing to wait?" the server asked, a big smile still plastered on his lips. He has a pair of deep-set eyes that made him attractive, but somehow, his smiles sent chills that crept up her spine, raising the hair on the back of her neck.
"I can wait for hundred years for a gin on the rocks," she laughed at him, ignoring the feelings in her bone. "Very well," he nodded at her before leaving Mercy's presence alone. As she watched him disappear into the crowd, she had noticed his left leg limping.
He looked like someone I know, have I seen him somewhere? she asked herself, tilting her head a little bit. A few minutes later, Alfie came back holding a plate in his hand but the server never returned. The number of guests dwindle as hours passed by, the two of them hadn't left the table for they were not interested in dancing. A businessman named Benjamin Kahn approached Alfie to talk but their conversation was not that engrossing for her. She excused herself and made her way to the balcony.
She took a cigar and a matchbox from her handbag, the same ones Thomas had used during their celebration at The Garrison. Mercy inhaled deeply after lighting the cigar, the smoke crawling into her lungs. She stood there watching the nearly empty streets of Piccadilly Circus and people returning from work.
"Ya okay, love?" she jumped in surprise as someone spoke behind her, "Hey, you done talking to Mr. Kahn?" Mercy asked without turning her head towards Alfie. He leaned against the railings next to her, his gaze falling on the raven-haired lady.
He nodded at her, Mercy passed him the cigar which he gladly accepted. She laughed in amusement when her lipstick from the cigar stained his lips, "What?" he asked as he blew the smoke away.
Mercy brought her thumb close to his lips, gently wiping the red lipstick. Alfie froze in his spot because of the sudden touch, not even once had he ever eaten a butterfly but why does it felt like his stomach was full of it?
Alfie met her bewitching gunmetal eyes, his hand trembling as he caressed her cheeks. He lowered his head and his warm lips touched hers before she realized it. Her eyes lit up and her knees stiffened—as difficult as it was to admit, the kiss had been comforting to her. Alfie took a step back, mouth hanging open as if someone had knocked sense into him.
He turned on his heel and walked away, "Alfie!" she called, but he never looked back.
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a/n: i know some of yall been waiting for this ( ๑>ᴗ<๑ ) thanks for the 4k reads !!!!
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