Breathe

"Be careful Michael, If you keep on looking like you smell shit on your lip your face'll get stuck like that." Arthur teased him about the sour look plastered on his face. "What's he got to look so pissed about anyway?" John asked. "He's lookin' at (y/n) over there. He's in love with her, but too scared to say it, so he just sulks whenever another bloke talks to her." Isaiah explained. "Shit, your face really will get stuck like that then. (Y/n) is a good lookin' girl, lots of lads are going to try to talk to her."Arthur proclaimed. "I'm well aware. Thanks." Michael unenthusiastically responded. "Why not tell her you fancy her then?" John asked the obvious question. "Isaiah was exaggerating when he said I'm in love with (y/n). She's a sweet girl is all. Either way, she's never shown any interest in me. It's not worth it to embarrass myself." He lied. A few months back Michael had gone out with friends, and (y/n) had come along at the invitation of Isaiah. She was on of the most amusing people Michael had ever met. She'd joke like they had been best mates forever. There was never any pressure to behave in front of a lady with her, her company was far too easy going for that. She'd laugh at the Peaky Blinder's raunchy jokes and hoist her drink high and toast with them. Her laugh was like genuine music and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She was stunning inside and out. Both (y/n) and Michael had drunk quite a bit that night. Although, Michael often wondered is (y/n) wasn't actually as drunk as she made it seem, and was actually very much in control of herself. This thought drove him crazy considering that towards the end of the night, in a dimly lit back corner, gravity had seemed to pull their intoxicatingly loose bodies together in a kiss that came so natural, Michael felt that it was as easy as breathing. Since then, ironically, breathing had become difficult whenever he saw (y/n). He so wanted to pick up and continue where that night had left off, but he didn't want to betray he new found status as a tough Peaky Blinder by loosing his head over a girl, especially not in front of his cousins. Instead, he waited for (y/n) to lose her head. She never seemed to, however, and this frustrated Michael to no end. But if she continued to steal his breath like this, he would have to give in. "You're a Peaky fuckin' Blinder, what the hell do you mean she hasn't shown interest?" Arthur scoffed. "I mean look at the way she's fluttering her eyelashes and shit at that bloke she's with now. She's doesn't bat her eyelashes at me." Michael grumbled. "I don't think you should give up that easy mate. I've known (y/n) since we were kids in school. She was never one for silly little romantic stuff like twitchy eyelashes and high pitched squealin' giggles and shit. To me it looks like its all just more of an act that she's putting on right now." Isaiah said. "An act?" Arthur repeated. "Yeah, just for a drink or a bit of attention or something. It doesn't have anything to do with real feelings." Isaiah clarified. "I've known girls like that. Girls that can flirt without meanin' it. They're dangerous." John warned. "If it is an act, it's a damn good one." Michael practically growled as he watched the man (y/n) was talking to place a confident hand on her waist as he leaned down to whisper some sweet nothing in her ear. (Y/n) giggled and lightly tapped his chest in a mock hitting manner in response to whatever tease he had just made. While her hand lingered on his chest he grabbed it and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss, making her blush. "I will admit, she does seem a bit more than a little interested in him. Strange considerin' he's got to be, what, 10 years older than her?" Isaiah commented. Just then, the older man seemed to have a surge of confidence and he dropped her hand to move his palm up to caress her cheek whilst leaning down to kiss her lips. Michael slammed his drink down on the table as he shot up from his seat to burst out of the Garrison. "What the hell was all that?" Tommy asked as he approached the table. "That bloke over there is all over (y/n). Michael had enough of it." Arthur explained. "What, that bloke there? That's Randall Derrick from Manchester. I need him good and drunk and his guard down before I try and do business with him. I've never met a girl as pretty as (y/n) who can hold a drink as well as (y/n) so I asked her to flirt with him this evening. The more drinks he buys her, the more he drinks himself, and the better business will go for us. She's just flirting in order to get him pissed drunk." Tommy explained. "Shit man, where were you to tell Michael that?" John sighed.

Later that night, at about 2am, Michael couldn't sleep. He kept considering Isaiah's words, "He's in love with her, but too scared to say it." Michael shook his head at the memory. He wasn't in love, and he certainly wasn't scared. Or, that's at least what he kept telling himself. About an hour later, however, as he continued to toss and turn, Michael began to face the reality that maybe his feelings for (y/n) really were stronger than he admitted. The kiss the bastard at the Garrison had placed on (y/n) had only been a small one, but it still made Michael see red. Surely he wouldn't have had such a severe reaction for some he was just a bit sweet on. With his drunken buzz wearing off, and his lack of sleep, and his racing thoughts, Michael was fuming. Why was she all over that man in front of everyone? Why was she never like that with him? Why was she so important to him? Finally he couldn't take it anymore, so he hopped out of bed and quickly threw on some clothes before heading out the door. A short while later (y/n) was woken up by a loud banging at her door. "Michael? Jesus Christ, do you have any idea what time it is?" She sleepily rubbed her eye as she answered the door. "Is he here?" Michael practically shouted. "Who?" She gave him a confused look. "The man from the bar, the old bloke. He's here isn't he?" Michael was tired and angry and not thinking straight. "What? No! Of course he isn't here! Just come inside before you wake the neighbors and tell me what the fuck is wrong with you." (Y/n) quickly ushered him inside and shut the door. "What the hell was all that tonight?" He quickly began to interrogate her, trying to ignore how lovely she looked in her pale pink nightgown, and how charming her mussed up bit of hair from where it had been on her pillow was. "What was what? I didn't do anything wrong!" She fired back. "You and that bastard were all over each other!" He prompted her to remember. "Yeah, you're welcome for that!" (Y/n)'s response greatly confused Michael. "Excuse me? What the hell does that men?!" He yelled. "Tommy said everything went great! That the guy was like giggling putty in his hands after all the drinks and flirting. The business deal was a success so I have no idea why you're so fucking upset." She defensively crossed her arms. "Tommy?" Michael repeated the name as a question. "Yeah, he's who told me to get close to the guy. Tommy even gave me a few quid for my trouble. Wait, did he not tell you it was all a set up?" She asked. "No, he most certainly did fucking not." All of Michael's anger shifted towards his cousin and he was left standing embarrassed in front of (y/n). So much for being a tough Peaky Blinder. "Oh I see. Well, that's all it was. A trick. Hardly anything worth screaming about at 3 in the morning." She uncrossed her arms. "Right, well, uh, sorry about all this. I'll let you get back to sleep." He sheepishly began to move towards the door to make a pathetic exit. "Michael, wait." He stopped and turned back around at the sound of his name on (y/n)'s lips. "Whether you know it was fake or not, why did you feel the need to come over here?" She gently asked. "I, um, well, I just..." He stuttered in response. "Is it because you fancy me? Isaiah told me you do, but I didn't believe him." She offered him help with coming up with an answer. Michael paused for a long moment before taking a deep breath and continuing. "Yeah, I suppose I do. I fancy you enough to lose sleep over you and to feel all the oxygen leave when you enter a room and to make an ass out of myself at 3am because I'm a jealous twat." He finally admitted. "Really?" Her eyes lit up. "Yeah, really. It fuckin' rips me up that you don't seem to fancy me back. The Peaky fuckin' Blinders are supposed to be the ones who break hearts." Michael explained. "That's absolute bullshit and exactly why I never let myself fancy you back. I've seen so many girls used like play things. Hell, Tommy seems to have a new girl to fuck every bloody month! I didn't want to be something you used for pleasure for a bit before moving on. Truth is though, I can never stop thinking about. I can still feel your breath against me as we kissed that night. I feel so stupid whenever my thoughts drift off to you, but they always do." She made a confession of her own. It took a moment for her words to sink into Michael, but as soon as they did he rushed towards her, wrapping his arms around her, and lifting her up as he finally got to kiss her again so many months later. She delightfully laughed against his lips and he thought he might burst with joy. She wasn't producing some fake giggle, (y/n) meant it. Her ecstasy to be back in his arms was genuine. "Have you really wanted me like I've wanted you this whole time?" Michael briefly pulled away to ask, making sure this wasn't all a dream. "Yes you daft boy. I've wanted you this whole time, and I still want you." She whisper while soothingly running her fingers through his hair. "Then we have some lost time to make up for, don't we?" He grinned. "I like the way you think, Gray." (Y/n) leaned back in to kiss him once again, as if he was an oasis of sweet water in a parched desert. Michael relished the way she opened herself up completely to him. He made a vow to himself to never take her love for granted and to make sure she never doubt his love for her. He was with her again, he could breathe again.