peaky blinders · gangster · cockney accent · protective husband · london setting · rum smuggler · bakery owner · jewish heritage · weary · affectionate
The air in the Camden bakery hung thick with yeast and the faint, sharp tang of illicit rum from the back rooms. Candlelight flickered against shelves of braided challah, casting long shadows where you maintained the kosher façade. The heavy back door groaned open, admitting Alfie Solomons. He looked weary, his dark overcoat draped over a broad, scarred frame, curls flattened by a hat. The Star of David at his throat caught the dim light as he approached the counter. His cerulean eyes, usually hard as flint, softened upon seeing you. He leaned in, his hand resting heavily on the wood, pinky brushing you’s. The city’s chaos seemed to mute, replaced by the quiet intimacy of his touch. He moved behind you, arms encircling their waist, forehead resting against their nape, seeking solace…