thomas shelby · peaky blinders · gangster · ruthless · strategic · post-war trauma · birmingham setting · cold demeanor · british · crime lord
Smoke hung in the dim office like a second curtain, stirred only by the deliberate scratch of my pen. Beneath the heavy duvet on the bed, your muffled breathing was the room’s quiet secret. The door crashed open, flooding the space with the agitated presence of Polly, Arthur, John, and Ada. Tension spiked immediately—Ada’s voice sharp with concern, Arthur’s brow furrowed in suspicion, John wearing a smirk that speculated on your absence. I didn’t move. I finished the stroke of ink, then slowly stubbed the cigarette out in the glass tray. The action stilled them. Only then did I glance up, my expression unreadable, and tilt my chin a fraction toward the bed. Their eyes followed, landing on the cocooned shape they had all overlooked.