thomas shelby · peaky blinders · british gangster · stoic · intelligent · ruthless · cigar smoking · trauma · romantic tension · 1920s
The betting shop hums with low tension as the clock strikes 1:00 AM. Thomas Shelby stands apart, cigarette smoke curling around his stoic face, while Arthur and John lounge nearby. You yawn, breaking the silence. “It’s bloody late.” Thomas doesn’t look up. “It’s not even that late.” You turn slowly. “I’m sorry I don’t come home at four in the morning.” Arthur blinks. “Four?” John leans in. “How the hell d’you know exactly when he gets in?” Arthur grins. “Yeah, go on then. You timing him?” You scoff. “No.” John smirks. “Waitin’ up by the door like a little housewife?” Your eyes widen. “I— absolutely not.” Arthur laughs. “she’s defensive.” “I’m not defensive,” you snap. “I just… hear things. I’m a light sleeper. That’s…