Peaky Blinders Imagines

[Arthur Shelby] - Retrouvailles

Retrouvailles: noun; [Reh-true-vay] a strong sense of joy upon seeing loved ones again.

Birmingham was your home. You weren't born there, but one thing after another in your life had lead you there, and you had settled. You found work in a bookshop not too far from your home, and quickly began to know the locals of Small Heath. It was by no means the richest place, nor the most well off, but the people were decent for the most part, and that was enough.

Some people you ran into through your work, regulars who returned and borrowed books a couple of times a week, some a couple of times a month. Others you ran into in various shops, friendly nonetheless. And some, you ran into quite literally.

"Fuckin' 'ell, you alright there?" A deep voice with a thick Birmingham accent had asked, kneeling down to collect the books he had knocked out of your hands. You looked at him, nodding.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't watching my path." You spoke hurriedly, attempting to gather yourself and your belongings.

"You? That was entirely on me, love. I apologise."

Not knowing what to say, you smiled at the stranger. He was handsome, a scruffy kind of handsome; his suit fit him well and it only added to his allure. He smiled back, his own thoughts on you running through his mind. You were attractive, even in the dim light of the streets, the sun having gone to rest a while ago.

"So," you broke the silence, bringing him out of his trance. "Do I get those back or do I have to fight you for them?"

The man looked down at his hands and chuckled.

"Oh, yeah, course, m'sorry. Name's Arthur, by the way, Arthur Shelby." He handed you some of the books back, but not all of them, choosing to hold onto a couple while he spoke.

"It's nice to meet a new face, Arthur. Thank you. I'm Y/N."

Arthur's brows raised, seemingly in shock at your answer. You furrowed your own, a smile gracing your still confused face.

"Are you alright, Arthur?" You enquired, tilting your head to the side. He would be lying if he said he didn't find that cute.

"Yea, I-uh, just wasn't expecting you to react like that. Most people don't when they hear my name."

"Ah, I see," you laughed, cradling the books against your chest. "You're a big celebrity then, right? Movie star or musician?"

Your joke made him smile, and he looked down again, shaking his head.

"Not quite," he replied. "Come on, it's getting dark; I'll walk you back."

"A gentleman indeed, Mr. Shelby."

"Least I can do for knocking you on your arse, Y/N."

Though the walk was short, and fairly silent save for a few small conversations here and there, you had reached your front door. Arthur had hoped you lived further, and so did you, if you were honest. The man was a charmer, and he seemed like someone you would want to be around more. Arthur had the same thoughts running through his mind.

"It was nice to meet you, Famous Picture Star, Arthur Shelby, I'd love to meet you again sometime."

"Only if you promise to let that joke go," Arthur quipped back, and you had laughed. Your smile was infectious, and he too found himself smiling.

"Fine. You've got a deal."

Six months later, and after several more meetings that had gotten more frequent over time, Arthur had confessed his feelings for you. Not without the push of his brother, John, of course. Admitting his emotions was not something he was accustomed to doing on his own will. He was shocked, but happy, when you had smiled and told him you felt the same. From there, it was history.