It was too early when Tommy Shelby knocked on the front door. Birdie had groaned loudly when the sharp noise roused her from a restless sleep, one that she had grasped as precious rest. The nightmares had started again, after a whole week of calm.
She threw on a robe over her nightdress, the thing made from an old lace curtain. It was uncomfortable at best, but provided the effect of decency.
"It's early." Birdie complained the moment she swung open her front door. Tommy stood in front of her, cigarette perched in its usual spot between his lips, and tutted at her. His roaming eyes were far too obvious, so Birdie slammed the door in his face.
"Five minutes!" Tommy yelled through the thin wood, and Birdie groaned loud enough for him to hear. She ran into her bedroom, throwing off yesterday's nightclothes and grabbing the first dress and undergarments she set her sights upon.
"Birdie, what's going on?" Noah's fatigued voice burst through her door, startling her mid-buttoning up of her dress. "Why is Tommy here?"
"Don't worry about it!" Birdie tried to be reassuring as she smothered her body in perfume. "Just go back to bed."
She could practically see her little brother rolling his eyes, then stomp back to his bedroom. Though he was a hardened soldier, he could be a petulant toddler at the best of times.
Birdie had no time to adjust her long hair into a sensible style, so she ran a brush through the tangles and swept it over her shoulder. For a moment, she saw the wild-eyed country girl she so often wished she could be. Galavanting barefoot across fields of tall grass with the Shelbys, laughing freely with her hair tangling in the summer breeze. No cares fuzzing up her brain, and no jackass standing outside her house with a horse behind him. Part of her longed for the old Tommy, her Tommy. But the past was the past, the war was the war. They were all different now.
"I'll be back soon, Noah!" Birdie called, once she'd settled on a coat to fling over her spontaneous outfit. Satisfied, she chuckled at her brother's groans and scampered out of the door. Locking it behind her, any happiness slipped from her face when she turned to face a blank-faced Tommy Shelby.
"You were eight minutes." was all the man said before he leapt on his horse, clutching the reins with his eyes staring blankly forward.
Birdie rolled her eyes, fumbling for her case of cigarettes and matches. She lit one quickly, holding it to her lips and taking an exaggerated drag, staring at Tommy in annoyance as the inhaled smoke slowly drifted from her chapped lips.
Tommy offered her his hand, shifting as the horse grew agitated by its consistent stillness. Birdie uncrossed her arms and held her cigarette between her lips, grasping his palm and lifting her body onto the barebacked horse. Once she was settled, her dress hiked up to her knees, she pushed her body forward and wrapped her arms around Tommy's torso. A movement that instantly reminded the pair that this was the closest they'd been in years. But both were stubborn, and said absolutely nothing.
"So what the fuck am I doing?" Birdie asked after a brief few moments of silence. She glanced around at Small Heath's morning activity, how the women hid their children behind baskets and boxes when they spotted Tommy Shelby on the horizon. It was strange, to see a single man withhold so much power over innocent citizens.
"You're my good luck charm, Birdie." Tommy stated simply, his eyes lazily flickering to the fearful crowd but his head still facing the gloomy horizon ahead. Birdie's arms noticeably stiffened, and Tommy felt her shift in grip almost immediately. The stubbornness was intense in that single moment.
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VIOLENT DELIGHTS | TOMMY SHELBY
Fanfiction" these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume. " Birdie Brooks was a warrior who thought her fight was over. A lifelong connection to Shelby fami...
