• STRANGER • A Thomas Shelby Fanfic •

(3)

Before...

The sun is my eyes, and the sky seems to be a clear crystallized blue. With mixes of white and grey, and that burning yellow casts down on me, blinding me.

I wince, feeling the ground beneath me move. But as I stir to open my eyes, I can see that I am on the ground, my eyes travel down my body to my legs that being dragged. A man in a black coat pulls me, and I groan, still disoriented from the impact of my head hitting the concrete. We're in a forestry area, isolated and somewhere I cannot place. I feel clouded, like I've fallen into a deep slumber and have awoken far too early.

I use my other leg to kick out, trying to get the man's attention. The thought of him taking me away doesn't seem to make my heart thump the way it normally would. But that's only because of Tommy, and the confidence I have in my husband, he'll find me. I know it. My eyes roll back, a dampness at the side of my head is brought to my attention, I move my fingers over my new wound and pull my hand back to see deep red blood. Sick to my stomach, I can feel the wind being sucked out of me.

I open my eyes, trying to see something. Anything. But I'm too weak, and just like that, I fall back into an unconscious state.

Now...

My eyes open this time to see the dim lit room I lay in. I do not know where I am, but I suspect that I am being held captive. My head doesn't hurt, but I can feel my skin itch with anger and rage. I look around before he sets his eyes on mine. He's got his hand in mine, I pull away from his grasp. He's as alarmed as I am.

It's a quick exchange, I'm on my feet and so is he.

My back comes in contact with the bedframe against the wall, I look around in search of my weapon. Or any weapon, but there is nothing. Even the lamp is set to the other side of the room, leaving me alone. Alone with this man.

He puts his hands up, defending his innocence, he shows me his palms. He wears a suit, and looks at me as if he's not going to hurt me. But I know this man, he is not innocent. No, I know this type of man. He's vicious and brings pain to people, like he brought pain to me.

Standing on the bed, I can't help but notice how small he looks. He blocks the door, and I try to sort out an escape. He reaches for something behind his back, and I flinch, we have distance between us, but he could be baring a knife. Ready to carve my eyes out.

"I'm not going to hurt you," He decides to not speak louder than a mere whisper, his voice was like some sort of friendly cat, curling up to me. "Cecilia,"

They said this would happen. That he'd become my friend before anything...

"How do you know my name?" I look down at him, looking down at my clothes to find that I'm not in my navy dress; but rather some sort of short silk dress. It falls short, revealing my thighs and legs to this man. I look back down at him, my eyes widen. "Did you change me?!"

As if he's scared of me. He injects something between us, holding in his hands a good bunch of small photos. Photos that look back at me and read a life I cannot say I lived this. Despite the fact that my face is plastered on every frozen moment.

He studies me, I can feel his cold eyes burning into my skin. My eyes draw each still image, my face twists as I look at these pictures of him and I. Before I can, I look back at him and see a lopsided smile on his face, he stares into my eyes.

"You don't remember me?" He sounds like he's hanging onto each word by a thread. Sounds in pain.

My eyes fix back to the photographs, and I continue to stare, unable to even think about us being together. But we look so... happy. These imagines confirm that. We were smiling, and the people around us were smiling. I can see a glow in my eyes that makes me envious.