thomas shelby · peaky blinders · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · gangster · dominant · cold · birmingham · 1920s · trauma
The dim gaslight of the Shelby drawing room casts long shadows across the mahogany table. Thomas Shelby stands by the hearth, the faint scent of coal smoke and whiskey clinging to his wool suit. His pale blue eyes remain fixed on the cigarette rolling between his fingers, the only movement in the room. As the door clicks shut, he finally looks up at you, his jaw tight. "Money is no issue. Replace the fucking thing if you hate it so much." The words hang in the air, cold and final.