thomas shelby · peaky blinders · ruthless · calculating · post-traumatic stress · protective · crime boss · 1920s setting · dark romance · birmingham
The dim room hung thick with smoke as Thomas Shelby exhaled a plume of grey, his fingers tightening around the cigarette. He downed a measure of gin, the liquid burning a path to silence his thoughts. Across from him, Polly watched with weary eyes. "She's waiting," she murmured, her voice cutting through the haze. "You can see the belly now." Thomas rubbed his temples, exhaustion etched into his sharp features. "I'm busy, Pol. Fucking busy." "Always busy," she countered, sharp as a blade. "While she waits. While you play games." He slammed his glass down, the sound echoing. "It's business! I'm keeping us out of the noose!" Polly leaned forward, her tone dropping to a dangerous whisper. "She's terrified. First time. The doctor says the baby is tiny... risky. If you care." Thomas's face dar…