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Cry Baby - The Neighbourhood
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Gwen's head remained tilted, a contemplative expression on her face as a stream of unusual thoughts invaded her typically pristine mind. The mental images of Thomas Shelby, stripped of his dapper suit, played like a reel in her imagination. His usually immaculate hair tousled, beads of sweat accentuating the rugged lines of his features.
In the vivid daydream, she felt the phantom touch of his fingers tracing patterns on her skin, setting off a cascade of goosebumps. Her mind wandered to the imagined sound of his voice, softened by the early morning light, and the intimate scent that would envelop her as she nestled into the curve of his chest.
A subtle blush crept onto Gwen's cheeks as she realized the depth of her reverie. It was a departure from the reserved thoughts that typically occupied her mind.
Abruptly, the ticking of the oven clock pulled her back to reality. The enticing aroma of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. With a shake of her head to dispel the lingering daydream, Gwen refocused on the task at hand.
The mountainous pile of dirty dishes awaited her attention, and she immersed herself in the rhythmic choreography of cleaning. Each plate and utensil became a vessel for her to channel the unexpected rush of sensations and thoughts that had momentarily swept her away.
As the scent of cookies mingled with the soap suds and warm water, Gwen couldn't help but smile at the contrast between the mundane tasks and the vivid fantasies that had briefly transported her elsewhere.
As she vigorously scrubbed a dish, the sudden knock at the door jolted her. The plate clattered in the sink, mirroring the surprise that had momentarily disrupted her thoughts. A mix of anticipation and nerves washed over her as she cautiously approached the door, her heart beating faster with each step.
Opening it revealed not just one, but both Shelby brothers – Tommy and Arthur. Gwen's breath caught in her throat at the unexpected sight.
Tommy's piercing gaze met hers, and Gwen couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine. His presence, always commanding, made her acutely aware of every detail – the subtle scent of his cologne, the precision of his tailored suit, the intensity in his eyes.
Her nerves danced in her chest as she took in his appearance, her attempts to appear nonchalant betraying a quieter demeanor.
Arthur, standing beside his brother, observed Gwen with a hint of curiosity. He seemed to sense the unspoken tension that lingered in the room.
Gwen, caught between the reality of their unexpected visit and the lingering daydreams of Thomas, offered a faint smile.
"Tommy, Arthur, what brings you here?" she greeted, attempting to sound casual, but the nerves in her voice betrayed her.
Tommy, ever perceptive, curiously eyed her, as if seeing through the attempt to conceal the subtle unease. However, instead of pressing further, he chose to let it go silently.
"Why are you both looking at me like that?" she laughed, brushing off the flour on her fingertips as she glanced at their humored expressions.
Arthur, pointing to his own face, grinned mischievously. "You've got a little something," he teased, a playful twinkle in his eye.
Gwen quickly wiped her face with her hand and felt the coarse texture of flour on her fingertips. "Oh, sorry," she groaned, embarrassed at her disheveled appearance. "I'm in the middle of baking for me and the boys," she explained with a sheepish giggle.
Tommy's gaze held a touch of gentleness, his voice slightly softer, though retaining his usual seriousness. "How are you feeling?" he inquired, concern laced in his words just enough for her to barely pick it up.
Gwen appreciated his concern but understood his slightly reserved mood, knowing that Arthur's presence changed the dynamic between them.
She nodded, offering a grateful smile. "I'm okay, thanks to both of you," she replied gently, imagining what could have happened if they never showed up.
Arthur grinned, "All in a day's work, love," he joked before adding, "I better get going. John will be expecting me to help him at the betting shop." With a wave, Arthur bid them farewell and left Gwen and Tommy alone.
As the street bustled with people passing by, Gwen and Tommy stood in the doorway, a subtle tension lingering between them. Tommy's demeanor softened as he closed the gap slightly between them, but there was still a cautious distance.
"How are you really doing?" Tommy's voice was gentle, his concern evident as he glanced around at the bustling street, mindful of their surroundings.
She smiled softly, feeling the weight of his words amidst the prying eyes. "I'm okay, just a little shaken up," she replied honestly, her voice soft as flashes of the man who grabbed her appeared in her mind.
Needing a change of topic, Gwen offered, "Do you want to come inside?" hoping he might stay a little longer. Tommy's gaze drifted momentarily through the open door, considering her invitation, but he shook his head.
"I have a few things to take care of," he explained with a soft sigh, his gaze meeting hers with a shadow of a smile. Gwen couldn't deny the intoxicating allure of his scent, an invisible thread that seemed to draw her in.
She fought the urge to reach out and touch him, her hands restrained by a self-imposed boundary. The sight of his piercing blue eyes, peering down at her, stirred a heat within her, a magnetic pull that transcended reason.
"I'm sure you do, Mr. Shelby," Gwen replied with a smirk, her voice carrying a subtle flirtation that danced on the edge of danger. His eyes, magnetic and intense, locked onto hers. Her mind raced through a million reasons why this situation was wrong.
Bad news. Thomas Shelby was the worst news.
Yet, she found herself captivated, unsure if it was the way he looked at her or the dangerous proximity that fueled the growing heat between them. The air heavy with unspoken tension as they stood in the threshold of something uncertain, the boundaries between caution and desire blurring in the magnetic pull of Thomas Shelby's presence.
As he bid her goodbye, Tommy reached out and discreetly squeezed her hand, a gesture hidden from the curious glances of passersby but enough to make her blush. His departure left Gwen watching him walk away, a wish lingering in her mind that he had accepted her invitation to come inside.
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Lying in bed, Gwen's mind was a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts about that damn man. The moonlight sneaked through the window, casting a soft glow, reflecting the tangled mess of emotions within her.
Then came the tap on her window – a pebble thrown by Thomas. His face wore that signature smirk, hands tucked in pockets to ward off the cold night air. She opened the window, and there he stood, slipping into her room like a wraith. Moonlight traced his features, and suddenly, the air inside felt warmer with his presence.
His gaze, heavy and familiar, lingered on her as she sat on the bed, her legs casting shadows in the dim light. Gwen, feeling a mix of shyness and anticipation, couldn't ignore the pounding in her chest. It echoed the unspoken desire urging her to do something – anything to break the silence.
The room was thick with tension as she fought the itch under her skin. She needed to touch him, to convey the emotions stirring within her. The air hung with the unspoken dance between them, the moonlight outlining their silhouettes as they stood on the precipice of something uncharted.
As Gwen settled on the bed, Thomas lingered near the edge of the room, a subtle restraint in his stance. Amidst the undercurrent of lust, an undeniable sadness crept in. Thomas had a knack for unraveling the pain hidden within her.
She remained silent, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Unsure of how to navigate her emotions, Gwen hesitated, her body caught between the excitement of his presence in her room and the looming sadness that these intoxicating moments held an ephemeral quality.
A realization clung to her – these stolen moments wouldn't last forever.
In the quietude, the conflicting emotions simmered, and Gwen grappled with the knowledge that Thomas would inevitably find another woman to captivate his interest.
She feared being relegated to the sidelines, a silent spectator to his transient affections. The room, once charged with anticipation, now held a bittersweet tinge as she wrestled with the paradox of desire and the inevitable impermanence of their clandestine connection.
"Why so quiet, Stuart?" Thomas asked with a light tone, his gruff voice revealing a hint of concern.
"I need to tell you something," she whispered, unsure if he caught her words.
His footsteps approached, and the bed dipped as he settled beside her. She knew he had heard her just fine.
"I love you, Thomas. I can't pretend I don't. I know I shouldn't, and you obviously don't feel the same, so I'm sorry. This is a lot for you, just throwing this onto you. You have enough to worry about..." Gwen's words trailed off as Thomas's rough hand gently cupped the side of her face.
His eyes locked onto hers, his face leaning in to kiss her lips tenderly. She melted into his embrace, reciprocating the soft kiss.
Butterflies fluttered in her chest as her body hummed in relief, sinking into the bliss of the moment. His lips gently pulled away, his warm breath washing over her face. Instinctively, her forehead leaned forward, softly resting against his, as they embraced the blissful silence.
Thomas's eyes bore into Gwen's, a vulnerability in his gaze that echoed her own confession. Breaking the silence, he spoke in a gruff but sincere tone.
"You've been in my thoughts since the day you walked into my office with those brothers of yours," he admitted, a hint of admiration in his words. "I won't say those three words because I believe in showing, not just saying. But I'm here, Gwen, and actions speak louder than words."
As he spoke, Thomas gently intertwined his fingers with hers, a silent promise. "When you want to say it," he continued, his thumb brushing over her knuckles, "squeeze my hand three times. I'll do the same."
"Squeeze three times. Got it," Gwen said with a soft smile as she looked at her and Thomas's intertwined fingers that rested on the bed. His thumb ran over the back of her hand in soothing circles, silently basking in each other's company.
She tried to hide the yawn that snuck from her mouth, a chuckle vibrating softly in Thomas's chest.
"Seems to be bedtime for you," he teased as he stood up suddenly, causing disappointment to flare inside her chest. She had hoped he would stay, the desire to experience falling asleep in his embrace tugging at her.
However, before she could voice her wish, Thomas reassured her with a laugh, "I'm not going anywhere," With swift movements, Thomas shed his suit jacket and squeezed into Gwen's small twin-sized bed, a sight that amused the girl.
She stifled her laughter with her hand, attempting to settle beside him. The close quarters left no room between them in the cramped space.
Thomas, lying beneath her, laughed, his arm draped around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. "You're gonna need a bigger mattress, love. I can barely bloody keep both of my arse cheeks on the bed!" he whispered, prompting a laugh from Gwen.
"That would mean you would be staying in my bed more often, Mr. Shelby," she teased, her anticipation building for his response.
"You will definitely be needing a new bed by those standards, Ms. Stuart," he smirked. A rush of heat colored Gwen's face, and she playfully slapped his arm. Instead of loosening his grip, Thomas tightened it, and she drifted off to sleep surrounded by his scent, imagining waking up every morning with him beside her.
As slumber claimed her, the notion of it becoming a reality lingered in her mind. Just maybe, the shared warmth and laughter in that small bed could transcend the confines of the night, creating a possibility that Gwen dared to dream about.
In the hushed embrace of the early morning, Gwen stirred, her consciousness pulling her from the depths of sleep. Blinking away the drowsiness, she became aware of Thomas, quietly getting up from her small bed. The room was still cloaked in the soft hues of pre-dawn, and she lay there, feigning sleep.
As Thomas moved, his silhouette navigating the shadows, he seemed unaware that Gwen was now awake. A quiet sadness welled within her, realizing he was about to leave. In the dim light, she watched him, her breath catching at the fleeting moment.
Unexpectedly, he reached for her hand. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through her, and in the silence of the room, he squeezed her hand three times. Gwen, feigning sleep, felt the subtle pressure against her palm, a silent acknowledgment that answered the night before's question.
With that, Thomas slipped away, leaving the room as quietly as he had entered. The soft creak of the door closing echoed in the stillness, and Gwen, now fully awake, was left with the lingering warmth of his touch and the quiet acknowledgment that he had departed, leaving her alone in her cold twin bed.
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