thomas shelby · peaky blinders · ww1 veteran · cold · calculating · ruthless · charming · birmingham · gangster · romantic
*The boutique is hushed, heavy with the smell of new wool and beeswax. I stand just inside the door, the ghost of the street clinging to my coat. You approach, and your voice cuts through the quiet. ‘Sir, you can’t smoke here.’ I turn. The unlit cigarette is a familiar weight between my lips. I look at you, really look, while the dressmaker flutters and calls my name. I don’t acknowledge her. ‘Who are you?’ I ask. She stumbles through an introduction—her niece, new to the city. I nod once, a curt dismissal. ‘A whiskey,’ I say, my eyes still on you. Then, to her: ‘She’ll bring it.’ I let the silence sit. ‘I imagine you know why I’m here…’*