𝑰𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒔, thomas shelby

tenth shot.

(tenth shot)

10 | In which your
ties are tight.

Before the war, he had never been to her house before, her grandmother was still alive and hated him, so a friendly visit was unlikely. They arranged to meet on the street, in alleys, or at Polly's house, and before the Lee family feud with the Shelby Family, they were free to meet near the camps.

Over the past few months, Tommy has visited her more than he had before. He showed up late, Bella was already dressed in her nightgowns, she had trouble sleeping and spent half the night awake until the sun came up and she could close her eyes for a few minutes since Tommy started showing up to be with her.

Her waking nights were no longer so lonely.

Most of the time he came, they both talked a lot about the past, almost always seemed a sad nostalgia. Some memories made them laugh, but even their laughs were full of tiredness and a feeling much like mourning. Bella was fascinated at how he could laugh even if it was dark and didn't last long, because she always thought he had lost that part of himself like the others.

They shared the bed just for sleep, and she felt every time that happened, Tommy seemed more distant every time he was with her. Bella couldn't stop thinking about how they looked more like close friends than lovers.

She loved him so much, but every day that relationship became a ghost of what it should have been. It was nothing like what was there when he went to France, it was cold and Bella — as happy as she was when she was with him — felt that for Tommy to be with her was a way for him to prove something, perhaps it was his own principles of doing what he promised and being a different man from his father.

For Bella, it was exhausting.

A few weeks ago, Tommy was frustrated and tense, Bella was just trying to make him better, they didn't even exchange words when he arrived, the tiredness in his eyes didn't let him. She stroked his face, took off his suit and put it away, hugged him and ran his fingers through his hair, he accepted it with an expression of pain.

By tomorrow, he had his face buried in her neck, Bella had her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her hand was still in his hair. Tommy had not slept in several days since returning from France, the only thing that made him sleep was opium because not even alcohol worked, but not that night, that night was different.

His last memory was of her fingers running through his hair, her voice talking about something, poetry maybe, he didn't remember the words, but everything Isabella said with that voice was beautiful anyway. Tommy remembered her getting compliments for that, because her voice was melodious and she knew how to pronounce the words correctly.

Her body was thin and warm, she was fragile when she was sleeping as she was now, his self-assessment of it made him pull her closer. Her hair had grown over the months and she looked more like the girl he met.

He didn't want to stay until she woke up, it was almost six in the morning and Tommy got out of her arms, sat on the edge of the bed and only after a painful sigh that looked like thorns sticking under his flesh.

Tommy put the suit on with his back to the bed, but he noticed she was watching him.

"Tom," Bella called his name softly, it was hoarse. "Would you leave without saying goodbye? I almost suspected you would leave money on the dressing table."

"I have things to work out." He said finally turning toward her, she was face down hugging the pillow, her hazel eyes sleepy. "You should go back to sleep."