ANTONY & CLEOPATRA → ALFIE SOLOMONS

"we can't do this"

Fists clenched, hands shoved into pockets. Brows low or brought together, jaws clenched. A feeling like a magnetic pull between them. Their foreheads pressed together, their lips brush, just barely, until B pulls away with a shaking exhale, forehead dropping into A's neck.

If Tommy found out that you snuck out in the middle of the night and took a train to London, he would wring your neck.

After he brought you back home, you had practically been locked in your room. You refused to see Arthur and John, or even Polly and Ada. Finn was the only one who had been able to get a word out of you, bringing you tarts and cakes when everyone else was out. Tommy had absolutely refused to even listen to a word you had to say, pretending as though you didn't exist at all. He put everyone on strict instruction; you weren't to leave the house.

But as previously mentioned, Finn was your saving grace. It was a rare night in which everyone was out of the house, the perfect time for you to put into effect the plan you had been formulating for the past two weeks since you returned to Small Heath.

You had a bag packed, a ticket you had snuck out the day prior to purchase, and the key to Alfie's house in your pocket. The only obstacle between you and Alfie was Finn, sitting by the fire in the living room. You had to make it out the door without being noticed.

Luckily, your dear Finn was on your side that night. You were halfway to the door when he cleared his throat, not looking away from the fire.

"If Tommy asks," he said slowly. "I didn't see a thing. I accidentally fell asleep here."

You watched with a full heart as Finn lay himself down in front of the fire. Sparing a moment, you quickly grabbed a quilt from the couch and threw it over your youngest brother, kneeling down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"Night, Finnie," you whispered before straightening up. "I love you."

And then you were off to London town.

In hindsight, you probably should have warned Alfie you were coming. Whether he would have wanted you to come or not, you had to see him, even if it was for the last time. Maybe if you let him know, with a letter or a phone call or whatever, you wouldn't be staring down the barrel of his revolver.

It wasn't hard to get into Alfie's house. He had given you his keys long ago, and he didn't bother with changing the locks after you left. You wanted to wonder why that was, but there was no time, for the second you walked through the front door and shut it behind you, there was a gun being pointed between your eyes.

"Alfie?" You said, your voice small as you stared at him with wide eyes. "This wasn't really the reunion I was hoping for, you know."

Slowly, Alfie lowered the gun, staring at you with wide eyes. His finger slipped from the trigger, the weapon clattering to the ground as he let out a stuttering exhale. You took a step forward, and he took a step back.

"Alf," you repeated, your hand outstretched just slightly, hoping to get ahold of his. You took another step forward, and Alfie took another step back, pressed against the bannister now. "Tommy doesn't know I'm here, Alfie."

"Then why are you here?" Alfie asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as if to cease their trembling. "Sent all your stuff back, I did. Ages ago. So what're you doing back?"

Alfie took a step forward, and you stayed put. You weren't afraid of Alfie, no matter how cold he was being. You knew of the damage you made when you left.

"I'm here because I love you, Alfie."

The fronts of his brows were bunched together, and you longed to go over and smooth it out. Wrinkles, you would fret. Do you want to look older than you actually are?

Alfie removed a trembling hand from his pocket and wiped it over his tired face. He hadn't shaved in a good while, and it seemed as though he hadn't slept either. Your heart ached for him; you missed the way his hands felt, the scratch of his beard against your face, his body pressing into yours. You had never longed for anything these past few months the way you longed for Alfie.

"If you love me, then why did you lie?"

"I thought that I was doing right by my family," you explained, pursing your lips. "I was to report to them weekly about everything you did, every decision you made. Tommy wanted to know everything about you, Alfie, and I wanted to please him so badly. But then I stopped sending letters, stopped calling, stopped meeting up with his men. I stopped, Alf."

Alfie stared at you. "Why'd you stop, then?"

You shrugged, giving him a small smile. "I fell in love, idiot."

It was then that the pull between you became unbearable, and Alfie removed his hands from his pockets in the same instance that you lurched forwards, hands bracing themselves against the hard muscle of his abdomen as his hands cradled your face, lips meeting in a fiery kiss.

You let out a small whine, pressing yourself as close as possible as Alfie kissed you like you'd just come back from the dead, the passion indescribable. His hands were trembling where they held your face, teeth sinking playfully into your lower lip.

"Ow," you grumbled, pulling away only slightly to lick at your lip. "That was mean."

Alfie rolled his eyes, but he was grinning like a fool. "You know, technically, we can't do this," he huffed, but pressed his lips to yours in a short kiss anyways. "Tommy would absolutely have your head, woman."

"Tommy Shelby can go the fuck to hell."