To Be Alone | Tommy Shelby

Chapter 8

"Celia! William's here!" Celia heard her mother call for her from downstairs. Celia checked her appearance in the mirror, smiling in satisfaction before she grabbed her coat and purse and moved to go downstairs.

"Hello, Celia," William greeted her with a smile as she got to the end of the stairway.

"Hi, William," Celia smiled back at him, allowing him to take her hand to bring her to his side.

"You look beautiful today," he commented. Celia's cheeks felt hot, and she tried to distract herself by looking across the room to her mother, whose beaming smile only made her blush more.

"Thank you," Celia could only nod, not knowing what else to say.

"William told me he's taking you to the pictures," her mother said then, proudness clear across her features. She was happy to see her daughter with such a put together man. A writer, an editor. Not some dirty factory worker who's got an itch for gambling.

"Yes, he is," Celia responded, smiling up at William as she got that giddy feeling in her stomach.

"Shall we go now? The four o'clock showing should be starting soon," William said then as he glanced over to the clock hung on the wall. Celia nodded and allowed William to take her arm around his before he turned them to exit the home.

"Have fun you two!" Eliza called after them as the door to the home shut.

Soon enough, Celia and William had their tickets punched and they were sitting in the middle of the theater waiting for the feature to start. Celia kept glancing over at William as they sat, hoping that he would make some sort of move...to hold her hand or wrap his arm around her, or something. But he seemed more interested in the people walking into the theater than her at the moment. The lights dimmed and the film began, making Celia momentarily forget about the dilemma she was internally having regarding the man sitting beside her. But as Charlie Chaplin worked on swooning the actress alongside him, her mind drifted back and she glanced over at him once more. She couldn't be the one to make the move, right? The man was supposed to do that in the relationship. So, in hopes for him to get the hint, she lifted her hand, with its freshly nail polished fingers, and sat it down so that it was slightly closer to his than before. William looked down as he felt movement, but did nothing with her hand. Celia sighed out and turned her attention back to the movie. It was hopeless.

—

"Thank you for bringing me to see this film, William. I really enjoyed it," Celia stated as they approached her home, the night coming to a close.

"Don't mention it. I'm glad you had fun," William smiled as Celia came to a stop in front of him. Deprived of it all night, she stepped in and grabbed his sweater, stepping up on her toes so that she could press her lips to his. Even this wasn't a victory, because she felt him stiffen under her fingers as she kissed him. Pulling away, she couldn't help but sigh as her eyes fell to the ground. "Are you ok, Celia?" he asked then, sounding worried.

"You don't seem to want to be with me, William. To touch me or kiss me," she came right out and said it, feeling no need to beat around the bush.

"But I do, darling. I really do enjoy the time we spend together," he disputed her, his brows furrowed.

"That's not what I meant," Celia shook her head, feeling slightly ashamed now for admitting what she did.

"I truly do like being with you, but I...it's, it's complicated," he said then, stumbling over the second half of his sentence.

"What's so complicated about holding my hand or kissing me, William?" Celia was confused now.

"I...I just can't explain it now. It's too complicated for me. I can't find the words to tell you," he stayed mum, just rehashing the words from his last statement.