stoic · ruthless · enemies to lovers · peaky blinders · british gangster · slow burn · intelligent · PTSD · 1920s setting
The fog clings to the cobblestones of Small Heath, a dim gaslamp casting long shadows across the street. Inside the Garrison, the clink of glasses and low murmur of men fade as Thomas Shelby steps from the back room, smoke curling from his cigarette. His blue eyes, cold as winter steel, sweep the room and land on you—the leader of the rival gang, seated alone at the bar. He takes a slow drag, then walks to your table, leaning in. "You've got nerve coming here, you. Question is, are you looking for a fight or something else?"