hello you // Arthur Shelby & reader

hello you

The intensity of the crowd in The Garrison on this particular Saturday night was gradually growing with every passing second. Shouts and laughter seemed to encompass the room and increased as more and more people shuffled into the already congested bar with a shout to greet everybody. A glinting crystal glass was held between your finger a thumb, a manicured set of nails quietly tapping on the base as you gently swirled the golden liquid inside. You hadn't drank much; though everyone around you obviously had, perhaps more than they could handle by the looks of John slipping off the edge of the bar with a thud as he hit the floor sticky with booze. A roar of laughter erupted from your husband behind the bar, who then lent over and pulled him back up by the collar of his shirt. A small smile spread across your lips as you admired him. He was very much in his element behind that bar, it was wonderful for you to see.

You quickly stood from your seat at the opposite end of The Garrison, briefly interrupting the heated discussion Polly and Esme were having over you. Pushing your way through crowds of drunken men clinging on to each other for support, you eventually made your way behind the bar to greet Arthur, who met you with a swift kiss on your cheek and a beaming smile. A smile to which you could not help but to smile back at.

"Arthur, I'm going to get going."

"What? Why?!" He shouted over the noise as he accidentally overfilled a pint and slid it down to one of the men.

"My heads hurting a bit so I thought I'd just go home and get some work done before Tommy shouts at me for not having it done earlier–" you began to explain before Arthur cut you off with furrowed eyebrows.

"'Ere, one second, I'll tell everyone to shut the fuck up–"

"No, Arthur, really: it's fine! Everyone's having a good time, and so are you. Stay." You pressed a kiss to his lips before placing your hand along his jaw.

"I'll see you later, okay? I love you."

You gave out your farewell's for the night: a quick kiss on the cheek to Polly and Esme, a drunken hug from John, and a chorus of goodbye's from the rest of the lads sat at the bar. As you stood at the door of The Garrison, your hand laid across the handle, you waved back at Arthur, who shouted a loud 'I love you' across the bar. From that, he was met with barks of laughter from the men as well as a few slaps on the shoulder as he poured their drinks. With a soft chuckle, you swung open the door and slipped out.

The stark contrast between the warmth of The Garrison and the piercing cold of the Birmingham night numbed you immediately. You pulled on the pair of silk gloves that hung from your bag before wrapping the thick coat tighter around your frame. As you walked the deserted streets of Small Heath, the only sound that could be heard was the clicking of your heels against the cobbled path. Soon, the muffled music emitted from the Garrison became silence and the yellow light it produced in the midst of the night faded into darkness. And you were alone. Not that you were worried; you were a Peaky Blinder for Christ's sake.

Though, a loud crash followed by footsteps caused your heart to drop for a mere second as you stopped in your path.

"Hello?" You asked into the alley, feeling almost silly that your heart race was increasing with every second of silence. "Anyone there?" As the silence continued, you dismissed your fears with a shrug and began walking again.

You could see your home in the distance, lit by a lone street light. As you opened the small bag between your fingers a strong arm wrapped around your neck. Your hands rose to the arm without a second though, attempting to scratch and pull at what was blocking your throat. Whoever it was dragged you backwards and into the alley you'd paused at only minutes ago. Your back was pushed against the brick wall, the back of your head hitting forcefully against the stone. Their grip on your arms was tight and, despite your unwavering struggle against it, you were trapped beneath them.