✓ | GOLDEN LIAR ↠ Thomas Shelby.

09.

Felicity nodded, and so she was left alone to take in the surroundings that she had been in only minutes before, when her anger was pushing through her body at an overwhelming rate and all she could think about was her hatred for the obnoxious Shelby patriarch.

"What the hell happened?" Thomas demanded as he surged through the doors, closely followed by his elder brother and aunt.

"Got shot," Felicity informed him shortly, her sneer tight as she nodded to the graze on her leg.

He chose to ignore the flippancy and instead turned to his brother. "Did you see who it was?"

"Nah, Tom." Arthur ran a hand over his mess of auburn hair, voice calm, but with his eyes betraying how troubled he really was. "I got there too late, and they didn't stick around."

Felicity coughed. "If it helps," she declared, "he came from the Woods house."

Both men whipped their heads towards the girl.

Arthur's eyes widened ever so slightly. "What?"

"He was there earlier, when I came over. I don't know who it was, though, but he came from there and surely that must be helpful in some way."

That last part was a lie. Felicity Woods knew exactly who the man was, and as the pain in her leg returned from its numbness, it flared up more so than before.

She figured that was only because it hurt more to lose blood by the action of your own father.

⎯

              "What else happened?" Thomas demanded softly as he balanced on the balls of his feet in front of the girl, concern resonating through his being as he scanned her figure to ensure no other part had been in harm's way.

Felicity wrinkled her nose as she looked up at him. "I told you: someone fired the gun, I fell over because of my questionable balancing skills. The usual, Thomas, you know that."

He gritted his teeth together. "When did you start being so difficult?"

"At the same time as when you declared that we were getting married," she retaliated.

The man sighed. "And you're sure you're going to be okay?" He asked, deciding to push away from the possibility of another argument.

"Tommy, I've been shot in the leg, not the heart," Felicity insisted feebly as she wriggled into a more comfortable position. "I can look after myself - I've done so plenty of times."

Thomas let out an exasperated sigh at her stubbornness. "You getting shot anywhere is always going to be a problem," he bit back. "Stop acting like a petulant child and let me look after you. . . it's the least I can fucking do."

He didn't say why, but anyone could read into the unspoken words. Thomas Shelby felt much more than the smallest ounce of regret for pulling her into his business, and although he wasn't about to expand on his remorse, he caught the lightening-fast thought that zoomed through his mind that was telling him how he probably should. Thomas shook his head ever so slightly: reminding her of the day's earlier ordeals would not result in any sort of good for anyone.

"Up we get," he murmured instead, his arm snaking around her back as he gently coaxed her to her feet.

Felicity refrained from letting out a snarky comment and instead allowed him to do so. She still had not forgiven him for the bombshell he might as well have dropped on her earlier that day and yet as she glanced up into his icy irises, the emotion that was surprisingly present in them was sorrow. For what, she did not know, but it was then that she decided to reduce the hatred towards him that she had threatened was already consuming her heart. Any man who wore as much pain as he did underneath his cold exterior did not deserve any other reason for that feeling to grow.