His aura proceeded him. For it was as though his presence entered the room, far before his physical being had the chance to cross over the threshold. It was all-consuming, enveloping the air in the room like it had always been his. Every particle, every ounce of oxygen that floated through your own lungs, merely loaned until he came back to claim it entirely. For his air immediately filled the void, seeping into each and every crevice it could uncover. Soaking the rich tones of spiced sandalwood and sharp tobacco into the cracks, permeating the atmosphere until not a portion of the room was left unscathed by the touch of his presence.
Thomas Shelby O.B.E., he owned every room he entered, carrying with him a strong wave of self-assurance and a nature of calm composure in the manner he strode. It was never more apparent to you, than it was in that very moment, when you felt the air fizzle from your lungs and all but dissipate from the atmosphere entirely. Replacing the once quiet and unmoving void, with one of dense tension and intimidating silence. This man, he rather believed he could rule the whole world, but right here and now, all he could do was surely rule yours.
The suite was warm, brandished with a sharp citrine hue that seemed to climb the walls like twisting ivy branches, as the saturated glow of the lamps resting on the end tables illuminated the space. Night having fallen over Birmingham, bathing the cobbles below in a shadow of deep indigo, as though it might just obscure the sins of men in the dark cloak of the twilight hour. The lack of rainfall kept the walls that surrounded you, delicately and expertly designed with gold and patterns that spoke of the expense and nature of the times, rather quiet.
For no source of precipitation fell from the clouds that hazed up the atmosphere outside of the large window, only the evidence of that morning's shower still lingering in rippling puddles amongst the cracks in the street below. The night was uncomfortably still, for it felt like the suite you'd been brought to was an oasis in a different place entirely. As though it had the eerie ability to cast out the evidence of the world, seal you off from its noise and its sensation, like a locked away secret.
You found it hard to breathe within the tall walls that encompassed you, aching for the feel of the wind blowing through open trees to wash over your flesh, carrying with it the rich scent of the Earth and the cool feel of the evening's soft breeze. In here, blinded by the golden hue that seemed to immerse your body whole, you felt rather claustrophobic. Sealed into a box, into a place you hadn't wanted to be, with a man you hadn't wanted to see.
You'd heard of this place, The Midland Hotel, an establishment he frequented often enough. They spoke of its class, of its beauty, of its discretion. But all you found, as you stepped into the room waiting for your presence, was a confined space that tested your very will amongst men or rather, one man in particular.
You swore you could feel the clasp of the door, listening to it sound in the space like an echo deeply submerged inside of a cavern, feeling it in the depths of your bones as though the sound was tangible and well inside of you. It wasn't slammed and it wasn't that it rattled the walls, it was a simple closing, and you hadn't heard the sharp click of the lock completely sealing you in, but as the man who'd closed it made his way into the room, it felt like he was more of the lock than the man who held the key to the room.
For Thomas Shelby entered and you felt every hair on the back of your neck stand up straight. Your flesh, illuminated a deeper tanned glow beneath the cast of citrine light, erupted with goosebumps. Sensitive beneath the sheaths of soft coral muslin and intricately thin layers of Chantilly lace, feeling a chill spark down your spine when your loose flowing fabric brushed ever so gently over the raised nature of your skin.
You could feel him, before you'd even turned on your heels to face him. You could feel him in every way he demanded to be felt. In your mind, seeping into the crevices with the knowledge that you were here because of him, for him and that he made you weary. In your bones, as though he'd tunneled himself beneath the layers of your flesh and settled upon the surface of your foundation. In your chest, as it had been his entrance that stole the breath right out of your expanding lungs and forced your clambering heart to race harder than it had moments before.
