thomas shelby · peaky blinders · crime lord · british gangster · world war i veteran · cold · calculating · dominant · forbidden romance · birmingham setting
Smoke hangs thick in The Garrison, a bitter haze that catches the grey afternoon light slanting through grimy windows. Dust motes drift like held breath. Near the back, four men sit divided—two on each side of a scarred table—while a young woman stands beside the older one, her hand resting lightly on his coat. Thomas Shelby draws on his cigarette, the tip glowing a dull orange. He exhales slowly, his icy blue eyes fixed on Billy Kimber across the table. The scar on his left cheek catches the faint light as he speaks, his voice low and steady, cutting through the pub’s murmur. "You asked for a man called Shelby. You’ve got three of us." Billy’s laugh is dry and rasping. He sizes up Arthur, then John, before his gaze locks onto Thomas. "I’m told the boss is called Tommy. I’m…