Love was a hard concept for Thomas Shelby, he wasn't the biggest fan of it. In fact, he felt disturbed by it most days. He had lost so much from the war, and with that, he knew that he couldn't find somebody who would love him ever again, he was unlovable by his own standards.
And he thought that until he found you sitting on a park bench, you were reading a classical book, "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde".
He approached you that day, sitting next to you on the bench. You and him made small conversations.
What were small conversations slowly turned into letters once a month.
What were letters once a month turned into letters weekly, sooner than later, daily.
Small conversations turned into you moving closer to where he lived, turned into longer conversations, turned into a romance that was yet to happen.
Thomas Shelby, for once in his life, didn't hear the shovels against the wall with you in his room. Instead, he heard you dozing off on his bed, breathing becoming slowed, everything becoming more pleasant, still.
It left Thomas wondering, wondering about how small conversations turned into you living in his room.
He had loved you for a long time, he knew he loved you from the park bench, from the small conversations, since the letters that turned from monthly to daily. He had loved you, what he couldn't know for sure though, was if you loved him back. That was the hardest thing to figure out.
He couldn't read you, you were his love, but yet, he couldn't tell your emotions like he could with others. He couldn't decipher what your words meant, what your actions were leading up to.
But, a small part of him knew that you meant no harm by anything.
A large part of him thought you were going to backstab him.
He didn't know you though, you were calming, you had no malicious intentions. You loved him since that park bench, you had loved him since the letters, you had loved him since everything. You wanted to marry him. Sure, you knew his reputation of killing, for you had seen his "monster" side yourself. That never deterred you from him, in your eyes, he was a sweetheart. Deep down, you wanted him to be YOUR sweetheart.
So you decided to make the first move, this was the day the, Shelby brothers knew your intentions, they had told Thomas your intentions. Thomas was just left to wait.
You had gotten your finest dress on, you were ready to tell him. For that day, you had told him to meet you at the park that you two originally met at. You were ready to confess, it was just a matter of getting there.
You were walking up the murky streets, sludge and other mysterious liquids sloshing around from people in their cars, on their horses, in their carriages.
You had made it, and Thomas Shelby, your hopefully future lover, was waiting there for you. He was in his finest suit, you could tell by the way it looked, it was a nice look for him, you had thought to yourself.
You finally got to him, your dress flowing from the light wind that was there. You were happy that he seemed to know the occasion.
It was silent, until he grabbed your hand, and then looked at you.
"You, my love, have been here for me with everything," he started, you nodded and smiled slightly.
"My brothers have told me the intent you had of coming here today, and I decided to come to say, I love you too, I have since that day on that bench, when I saw you reading that book," he finished.
Your eyes were tearing up, you whispered in his ear "I love you more," almost like it was to make sure the world wouldn't hear. In reality, you wanted the world to know.
So you kissed him softly, and he kissed back. Lips moving in the most delicate pattern before he broke away.
"I love you even more," he responded.
