Gangster's Heart // Tommy Shelby fanfic

You're Drunk

Anna stormed into a Garrison like a wind, capturing every gaze in the pub. Angrily, she vaved them off an assertive sweep of her hand, her eyes fixed on Harry, who was deftly pouring two glasses of gin at the bar. An expression of disapproval etched on his face, he observed her approach.

"Thanks," she barked, downing her drink in a swift motion before taking a seat.

"I'm listening," Harry sighed, leaning against the bar with his elbow and resting his face in his hands, weariness evident in his posture.

Rolling her eyes, she signaled for him to pour another round.

"What's up your ass today, Autumn?" he raised an eyebrow, but obliged, pouring her another drink.

"Tommy," she spat, snatching a glass from his hand and downing it in one swift motion, relishing the burn that trailed down her throat.

"I thought you were living in a happy fairytale. Everyone's talking about you two lovebirds," he chuckled, sipping his drink with an air of nonchalance, oblivious to her mounting frustration.

"Do me a favor, Harry. Shut the fuck up," she snarled, narrowing her eyes and scorching him with her intense gaze.

"Ay, ay. It's serious then" he said, the amusement draining from his expression, replaced by concern.

"Since he returned from the hospital, he's like a changed man. Acting weird, having these... I don't even know what it is, pains? He's drinking more than usual, and he stopped talking about the wedding. It's like we were never engaged. I didn't even get a fucking ring," she poured out, the alcohol already coursing through her veins as she buried her face in her palms.

"Could he be sick?" Harry asked carefully, his voice breaking with concern.

Anna peered at him from between her fingers, "I think so," she admitted, hiding her face once again.

"Holy cow," he muttered under his breath, pouring another round of gin for them. If it was true and Thomas Shelby was sick, everything would change. The war between gangs would ignite, each vying to claim his vacant spot.

"He doesn't talk to me, Harry. He's treating me like I'm stupid," she snapped her neck, straightening in her seat, relieving the tension that weighed her down. She grabbed her third drink in this short period.

"Let him come to you, Autumn. Don't push it. Tommy is..." he paused, searching for the right word, "well, different," he finished with a hint of uncertainty.

Anna sighed, knowing he was right and she shouldn't have pushed him to the corner. But after a months of waiting for him to wake up, praying and hoping she'd see his eyes again, she hoped things would turn out differently.

After a few more glasses of gin, the effects became evident. Her red eyes betrayed her with a blurry vision, and her coordination started failing.

That's when the best idea flew into her head.

She bid her goodbye to Harry, clumsily slipping into her coat, missing a few holes before successfully sliding her hand in. While grabbing her gloves, a memory of Tommy slipping them on invaded her mind. Fueled by anger, she threw them across the pub, storming out with wobbly legs that swung her from side to side as they carried her away.

The walk felt like a few minutes, but it took her an hour and several falls until she reached the familiar house—a place that was supposed to be her home. In her right mind, she would avoid this area at all costs, but now, it seemed like the best idea she ever had.

Uncertain if he was inside, she knocked a few times, not really expecting an answer. The knocks were more for the effect, but to her surprise, the door swung open, revealing Johnny with a confused look on his pale face.