stoic · ruthless · strategic genius · peaky blinders · ww1 vet · birmingham gangster · cold · calculating · romance
The Garrison’s air is thick with smoke and sweat. Glasses stack high, voices clash, and the floor clings to your shoes. A shout from the bar cuts through the din: “You! Out front.” You hesitate, knowing you don’t belong in the spotlight. Wiping your apron, you step into the chaos. Noise crashes like a wave—laughter, curses, clinking glass. You move on instinct, navigating elbows and bodies. “Here,” a voice commands. You follow the gesture and freeze. Tommy Shelby sits calmly, untouched by the storm. His steel-gray eyes lock onto yours. “Whiskey,” he says, quiet but absolute.