"Fucking hell." Michael chuckled as he and Anastasia hopped into a vehicle Tommy had sent for them. "Too fucking close."
Anastasia shrugged, "I don't know that, was kinda fun."
Michael scoffed, "Nope, don't be getting any ideas, that is the last dangerous thing that you're ever going to do." He warned before taking out a cigarette. Anastasia rolled her eyes playfully before nodding towards the folders in her husband's hand.
"Wonder what's so important?"
"I'm not sure but Tommy said not to open it."
"I know, I know." Anastasia defended as she held her hands up. The car had stopped, indicating they were outside of their house.
"Thank you." Michael smiled, opening the door.
"Michael." The driver had interrupted, spinning around in his chair. "Mr Shelby told me, to swap you for this." He explained, holding up a golden key between his fingers. Michael raised an eyebrow, slowly exchanging the folders for the key. "Something about a token of gratitude?"
Michael chucked, everything slowly clicking in as he smiled once more, getting out of the car with his wife. Making their way to the front door, Anna fished through her bag for the front door key.
"What's it for?"
"Would you like to go out tomorrow?" Michael questioned, his grin from ear to ear. Taking off his jacket he hung it on the hook, the loss of the warmth making him shiver.
"I'll have to think about it." She smiled teasingly before Michael shook his head and followed her up the stairs to their shared room.
ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ
December 6th 1920
"Can I open them now?"
Michael sighed for what felt like the millionth time. "No."
"My feet hurt."
"We're almost here."
"How about now?" Anna asked, Michael chuckling in response.
"Yes." Opening her eyes, she found herself in front of a door. She knew they were somewhat up high from all the stairs he had made her walk up. Fishing through his pocket, Michael pulled out the key that was presented to him the night before. Waving it in front of her face, he slid it into the hole, clicking it with a turn. The door opened onto the most beautiful terrace, the London city skyline glistening within their eyes.
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The night was still, just how they liked it. The reflection of the moon lay plain on the glass table, accompanied by a leather sofa. The candle lit terrace complimented the stars, both shining equally as bright. Anastasia blushed immensely, was this really just for her?
Michael had snuck off, arriving with some whiskey and two patterned glasses.
"Sit." He motioned, taking a seat himself.
Still unable to form a sentence, his wife quietly did as he asked, her eyes scanning the view until she said,
"And I thought london couldn't get any prettier."
Michael chuckled, mesmerised by his wife's astonishment. Passing her a full glass of alcohol he mumbled, "Tommy used to come here when he began settling down in London. We used to sit here while he'd go on and on about how London will one day be his." He smiled. "Funny that, when here this was the most peaceful I'd ever see him."
"Peace?"
Michael nodded. "Ironic right? Tommy's the furthest thing from peace nowadays." He sighed sadly. "Ever since his wife died he hasn't been the same."
Taking a sip from her glass she shrugged, "the whole world can become your enemy when you lose what you love." Michael lowered his eyes, the brief thought of losing his wife making him shudder. Fuck knows what Tommy is going through. Anna must have seen the glimpse of sorrow in his eyes as she reached for his knee, her hands softly resting there. "But you don't have to worry about that, I'm not going anywhere."
He smiled gratefully at the gesture, the thoughts of the past year running wild through his mind. "Anna, I'm really sorry, I don't know why..."
"What's done is done." She nodded assuringly. "Please, stop apologising."
"Okay." Was all he said, the mere touch of her hand on his knee making him lost for words. He was paralysed with happiness, something he wasn't accustomed to feeling recently.Taking sly glances at Anastasia his joy unfolded like a flower.
"Don't go soppy on me now." She joked, Michael rolling his eyes as he pulled out two cigarettes.
