WOUNDS THAT NEVER HEAL || tommy shelby x reader

chapter sixteen

"He'll get over it," Polly said, flicking the ash from her cigarette. "He has a soft spot for you, Y/N. Eventually, he'll understand that you probably don't have the fondest of memories from two years ago,"

"I think he understands that already, Poll," You replied, sipping on the beer John got you. "I think he wishes to comfort me," You said. Polly and Michael met each other's eyes.

"I think you're right," Michael chimed in. "Because we all want to comfort you from that time," He said, so plainly and bluntly that you couldn't understand how he hadn't blushed. Then again, he was a man now. You should treat him as such.

"I—," You began, trying to find the right words. "I appreciate you all wanting to comfort me, but I don't want it," You said. "This was two years ago. I've figured out my own ways of moving on in that time. Every time one of you tries to comfort me, it all comes flooding back—,"

"Because you haven't moved on," Polly said clearly. She stubbed out her cigarette as you stared at her coldly. You felt like a child. "You only squashed it down, Y/N, everyone can see that—,"

"Everyone should keep their noses out of my fucking business—,"

"See?" Polly said, keeping her gaze gripped to you. "Don't you see that you haven't healed in the slightest?"

"I don't need you telling me how I should feel, Polly," You retorted. You were angry, but also on the brink of tears. "None of you will ever be able to know what it felt like back then for me. None. Don't you dare try to tell me what I'm feeling, because you'll never fucking understand,"

Polly leaned back in her chair, a small smile appearing on her face. You looked to Michael, same expression on his face.

"Well, you've certainly got better at saying how you truly feel," Michael said. He shot you somewhat of a proud smile. "You were always so silent about what you thought you deserved, your worth," Michael began. You were gripped onto every word. "I'm glad that you finally know how to fight back, to get what you know you deserve,"

His words hit you like a train.

Maybe you had finally started to understand your own worth, but if you were finally capable of speaking your feelings, all of them seemed to be one thing; angry.

Angry as red war.

You nodded towards Michael's cigarettes. He plucked one from the pack for you, but didn't hand it to you. Instead, he placed in betwixt your lips. You were too stunned to move, even when he flicked his lighter and lit the end, smoke pouring from the lit tobacco.

You stared at him as you sucked in smoke; he stared back. It was as if the two of you were able to communicate in only stares and smiles, nothing more. It was always a mysterious time when you were with Michael; you couldn't quite place your finger on him.

Polly coughed abruptly, bringing yourself back to reality. You and Michael stopped gazing at each other and turned to her. She was smiling; one of her mischievous smiles.

"I think I'll go and find someone to dance with," She said, getting up suddenly. Neither of you could say anything before she'd whisked herself away. You looked towards Michael, blush creeping onto your cheeks.

You forced yourself to snap out of it, leaning back in your chair and enjoying Michael's gold brand cigarettes.

"It will be fine with John, you know," Michael said finally.

"I know. I'm still going to apologise, though,"

"You're good at that," Michael began. "Apologising when you don't need to," He looked towards you with an understanding smile. You furrowed your brows at him. How the fuck did he know all of this about you? He hardly knew you back then—he hardly knew you now.