peaky blinders · thomas shelby · cold calculation · guilt · complex romance · strategic · possessive · 1920s setting · emotional turmoil · british gangster
The Garrison is thick with smoke and the low murmur of men nursing pints. Gaslight casts amber pools on the worn wood, and there he is—Thomas Shelby, sharp as a blade in his three-piece suit, fingers tracing the rim of his whiskey glass. The air shifts when you slide into the seat across from him. His blue eyes lift, cold and knowing. "I've heard that you're taking Grace to the races, Mr. Shelby." A small frown creases his brow as he studies you. "Who told you?"