-𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 Charlotte Williams and Thomas Shelby realise they'd be much better off as not friends.
"𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮, 𝙄 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣' 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪."
-
𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘔𝘈𝘚 𝘹 𝘖𝘊
best friends - lovers
Peaky Blinders
Seaso...
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•·.·' ❪ hostile — act one ❫ '·.·• | CH. 2 |
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THE GARRISON WAS CRAWLING with people when Charlotte arrived, shouting greetings and waving over at all the familiar faces. Harry grumbles under his breath at the woman's usual lateness, shaking his head — not in disbelief, just in disappointment.
"Harry, I'm here, aright?" She rolls her eyes, lazily wrapping her apron around her waist, "Calm yourself."
She trudges behind the bar, her eyes immediately landing on an unfamiliar blonde lady, clearly posh and near — her hair and clothes too rich for her to be frkm Birmingham.
"Who are you?" Charlotte questions harshly, trying her best not to sound rough. When she doesn't receive an answer, she turns to Harry, eyebrows raised, "Who's she?"
"Grace. New bar maid." He explains quickly before turning back to his costumer.
She nods slowly at the information, facing the new woman again, the fakest smile painted on her face, "You fit right in here with your fancy clothes and makeup." She chuckles sarcastically, gently pushing past her towards a waiting man.
"Is that sarcasm?" Grace asks, hands on hips.
Charlotte fusses with the begging man for a moment before glancing behind her at the bar maid, nodding, "Yes, it is. Well done, princess. You might wanna get used to it. Where you from, anyway?"
"Ireland."
She rolls her eyes, sliding a bottle of beer across the bar to a lady, sending her a nod before sighing, "I can tell that from your bloody accent. I meant, which part of Ireland are you from?"
"Been in Dublin for the longest." She purses her lips, her eyes scanning the large crowd filling the pub, "Is it always this busy in a daytime?"
Charlotte shakes her head, her eyes focused on counting the coins on the bar, "Nah. These boys are on their way to St. Andrews."
"To pray?" Grace raises an eyebrow while pouring a drink out.
The other bar maid laughs at the suggestion, "That'll be the bloody day. St. Andrews is a football ground."
"Yeah!" Harry butts in, "The blues are playing. That's a forward line there," He points aggressively into the queues, "And that's the goalie, believe it or not."
A particular knock at the side window catches Charlotte's attention, knowing by the rhythm of the beats that it's Thomas Shelby. She motions towards Grace for her to answer it, herself being too busy at the till to do it.
