Nothing New / Peaky Blinders

𝘅: the murderer

Olivia Shelby wasn't supposed to be here, and now she was paying the price.

She could hear the rest of Small Heath waking up through her open window. Even if it was February, and there was most certainly a frost on the pavement: Olivia needed the chill, she needed her teeth to chatter under all these blankets, and she needed to be reminded that she was here. It was her who survived, and the painful chill reminded her of that.

(And it reminded her of the cold cobble she'd nearly died on last night)

Heels kept clacking against the pavement, people chatting amongst themselves, and the sound of brooms sweeping the pavement. Usually, Olivia liked to focus and see if she could pick up on what any of the people were talking about, maybe hear some gossip from the old dears off to fetch their newspaper for the day.

But, today, Olivia couldn't concentrate over the banging in her head. It was all far too loud. The heels clacking against the pavement, the chattering, the sweeping. It made her head sting to the point her eyes spawned tears and her hands covered her ears. She squeezed them slightly, acting as if more pain was going to rid her of the pain she was already feeling.

Her wrists still stung, her knees were sore and her throat... she didn't want to look in a mirror in fear of what she'd see. Olivia had tenderly pushed her cool hands against her neck earlier on in the morning, and she'd winced and fought back tears. Everything hurt. And everything was a reminder of what she'd done, what she'd survived only to kill in the end.

It hurt so much.

And yet, she didn't want it to stop because she deserved it.

Her hands over her ears stopped her from hearing the knocks at her door, followed by the footsteps into her room.

Someone tapped her back twice. And once she'd realized someone was touching her it was like a switch flipped within her and she grabbed on tightly to the hands that dared touch her, and stared at the person with wide eyes.

It was no longer loud.

Tommy watched her shaking frame, her hands nearly cutting off his circulation with the strength she squeezed them with. "It's just me." He whispered, "Sorry."

Ever since he'd returned from cleaning up the alley - to the best of their ability - he'd been trying to block the image of his sister from this morning out of his head. The image of her bloodied hands, dirtied frock and her bleeding wrists and knees, and yet the image kept coming back to him. Vivid as ever, even more vivid now than when he first saw it. It felt like every-time it came back to him a new memory came back to him, like just now the memory of her pushing away his hands, scared of him.

Her brother, Tommy.

"Sorry, ey?" Tommy muttered again as Olivia's hold on him did not seem like it was going to weaken anytime soon. She was still scared of him. Scared of everybody. "I didn't mean to scare ya. It were just me being careless."

He wished he'd said stupid because maybe then Olivia might've acknowledged him, maybe laughed a little. Maybe he could've got her to stop thinking about the brutality of that alleyway for one second.

Olivia's bottom lip wobbled and yet her hold on Tommy remained all the same. It was the strongest she'd felt in hours. And Tommy's hands were the warmest she'd felt in hours too.