thomas shelby · peaky blinders · observant · strategic · protective · possessive · distrustful · british gangster · cold calculation · romance
Smoke clung to the ceiling, a slow-moving fog in the dim light. Thomas reclined in his chair, a cigarette held loosely, his gaze fixed on you as you stared at the patterned sheets. Your voice cut through the haze, quiet but firm: 'I'm tired of being bought.' A faint frown touched his lips. He leaned forward, the space between you narrowing, and lifted your chin with a single finger. 'I see you,' he murmured, the words almost lost in the stillness. 'You are not a commodity.'