━━𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 [𝐓.𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐁𝐘]

𝘷𝘪𝘪. -𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘵

Scoffing slightly to the lie, Dawn nodded her head to the irony of it all, telling him that she understood- but that didn't mean she was going to stick to his plan.

Walking forwards to the security man, with Tommy trailing behind her, she swallowed her worry and held her head high, walking with pride like a woman fresh out of Paris, ravished in newly brought gold and jewels. Widening her  aqua sea foam eyes into ones of innocent and an equal honest smirk in her lips,

"Ah bon monsieur! je cherche mon cheval! 𝘢𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘳! 𝘪𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦! At the sight of his confusion she forced a giggle and staggered forward, "homme idiot je cherche mon cheval, de cette façon oui? 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘴? Pointing to the door he guarded she pushed forwards who was slightly flustered at the woman, unaware how to deal with the foreign beauty not speaking a word of English, "Viens salaud de cette façon!" 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 Her smile was plastered on her face, laughing cheekily as she brushed past the man, grabbing Tommy's hand and guiding them through the doors that she had opened for them.

Getting past security was easier said then done, man become putty in the hands of pretty woman who giggled and smiled, especially one with a flirty sultry accent twinged in there playful demeanour. Hands still unconsciously linked as they made there way to the balcony,

"Impressive." Was all he said, glancing down at the busy bodies below him, gliding the dance floor to the melodic tunes. He was slightly ticked that she didn't listen to him but he couldn't deny that he was sucked into her beauty in that moment, nor could he deny that he wasn't entranced by her as a whole, he had served with enough French men to know the foreign insults when he heard them.

"Well, your plan was.. what do they call it? Ah a shitshow yes? I simply did you a favour!"

Tommy laughed at this, shaking his head and turning to look at her playful expression, turning back to look down at the spinning bodies enjoying theme mumbling something about the 'Garrioson' which Dawn didn't quite pick up. Though her ears perked up when he tugged her hand still gripped in his own, "Do you dance?"

Gazing up at his eyes, she smirked. "I used to, but most of the men asked properly."

"Dawn Johnson-" He began, matching her smirk as he took small strides towards the stairs, pulling the young French woman with him, "Voulez-vous danser?"𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦?

A look of astonishment passed through her, shocked at his use of her home language- it was no where near perfect and the pronunciation needed improvement, but she could let that go.

"Montrer la voie, monsieur Shelby." 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘣𝘺.

Making there way down, they submerged into the sea of people, swimming in glee in the golden lit room. His hand rested on the small of her back, while the other interlocked into hers, holding it in the air as they quickstepped to the song. Dawns other hand lingered in his grey suit clad shoulder, gripping tightly as they spun.

Eyes found each other, blue delving into blue, like a violent storm crashing two waves together. They were reading each other, looking into each others souls to figure out their next moves, as if written on paper, it's letters stuffed into a glass bottle and thrown into the sea, letting each others vulnerability drift across the ocean between them until crashing onto the shore they called comfort.

The last time she had danced was with her husband, the night before he was sent off to war, spent swaying in each others embrace, tears glistening their skin not wanting to let each other go. But there's she was, dancing with great energy, a ear wide smile playing at her lips matching his own grin as he focused on her, as if she was the only woman in the room.

And perhaps she could've been, but as he spun the last twirl, his stare darkened as he spotted familiar men. Subtlety leading her off of the dance floor, she arched an eyebrow at his movement, as as if to question what he was doing. And to her surprise, Tommy understood the silent questioning, now the both of them walking towards a door hidden amongst the hustle, "I've decided to move up in the world." Pulling her closer as to avoid being bumped into, "Become a legitimate business man."

"Jésus Christ."Dawn muttered back to him, letting herself be guided into the room where two more men and three hefty bags, which rattled when dropped to the floor in what she presumed was money.

While the men conversed between each other, she stuck back taking in their appearance. It was clear they were all brothers, the ink difference being their ages and the blood smeared across one of their cheeks.

"Nice woman you got yourself Tommy, where've you been hidin' her?" The eldest gruffly spoke, while the younger man chuckled from behind him,

"Away from us that's for sure."

"Aye love, you should come by my pub sometime, I'll make much better company then Tommy over here."

The said man rolled his eyes and pointed a glare at his brother, "Buy the boys a drink," pausing slightly and asking, "Anyone hurt?"

"A few cuts and bruises." Arthur casually replied as Tommy nodded his head and patted his brothers shoulder, turning to the blonde woman behind him.

"Right off we go, ma dame." 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘺 sticking out his arm for Dawn to take, a small smile adorning her face at his horrible attempt at French, but taking it anyway and waltzing out the door, listening as the man called Arthur called out about a 'drink at his pub sometime' to which Tommy told her to ignore him.

She was led to bar, but as she was looking around she couldn't help but let worry seep into her. Now she was no gypsy but a bad feeling a crept up her spine, rending her paralysed as she sat on the barstool. Her stomachs churned and her body felt flushed, burning with uncomfortableness as felt eyes boring into her. But they weren't the eyes she was familiar with, they weren't the ones she was used to nor the ones that's she had started into moments prior in an intimate rendezvous on the dance floor.

And that's when Dawn Johnson has cursed herself, silently muttering profanities at herself. She had made a mistake. She had fallen for the trap the devil had set, she was the prey to the predator she was unaware of. She was just waiting game.

♕

𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫