METHOD OF MADNESS ━ 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 ¹

𝒾𝒾. 𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃: tommy

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : i did something bad - taylor swift

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

ii. eleven: ❝tommy❞

✵✵✵

Small Heath, Birmingham

As Marianna's melody approached its climax, Thomas's head slumped gradually, his eyes shutting. She called to him, her hands unclasping from behind her back, but Thomas didn't reply; instead, a faint snore escaped him.

Stepping down from the chair, Marianna smiled tenderly. She moved slowly toward Thomas's slumbering form, locking her gaze on him for a lengthy moment. She cherished the rare sight of Thomas Shelby being somewhat submissive—no indication of threat with his eyes closed, yet still bearing the scars of his horrors on his visage.

"We are not meant to remain shattered constantly, Tommy." she whispered quietly in their native Romani, brushing her fingers softly along his jaw. She wished fervently that she was right, that the both of them could mend their shattered souls.

As her whispered words hung in the air, Marianna gently reached out and brushed a lock of hair away from the peaky leader's forehead, her touch light and tender. She lingered there for a moment, her heart heavy with unspoken emotions.

Then, with a sigh, Marianna straightened up and turned away, leaving Thomas to his slumber. As she moved across the room, silently cleaning the glasses and other rubbish off the tabletop, she sighed slightly. Carefully adjusting Thomas' position, she allowed his forehead to rest more comfortably, anticipating his awakening, but all he did was sigh in his sleep.

Softly draping her clean shawl over his shoulders to ward off the chill from the downpour, Marianna continued working on her chores.

This moment in time reminded her of what could have been; of the potential they once shared; of the dreams they dared to envision together.

Because while Thomas may be Peaky Blinders' Tommy Shelby, he has always been Marianna's Tommy—the one who admired her artwork and offered solace when she had lost faith in herself.

And though she knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges and dangers, she was willing to face them if it meant finding solace in the arms of the man she had once loved.

✵

Once all her chores were done, Marianna moved on to the final task: sweeping the garrison floor. Humming softly to herself, she crouched down to gather and rearrange the chairs.

Unbeknownst to her, Thomas had already roused from his slumber.

Surveying the familiar surroundings, his senses caught the scent of the shawl draped over him. With a contented groan, he observed Marianna's industrious figure, noting the absence of her usual reserve. Instead, there was a glimpse of the youthful spirit he once adored—a spirit that her singing now seemed to invigorate within him.