Forbidden Afflictions // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(11) Honeymoon

Moving in with Alfie was something Freya could have never imagined. It felt so strange. She couldn't remember ever having felt that way. It was curiously indescribable. Whatever it was, it didn't feel bad at all.

When she moved into her house in Birmingham, it was just her and a few movers. She had complete, reckless control over wall color, picture frames, light fixtures, furniture, and food organization. None of it really mattered. Whether her walls were blue or bright pink, her rugs beige or radiant orange, whether to keep bread on the countertop or in the refrigerator, none of it mattered.

When she came to live with Alfie for the first time, she didn't touch anything or find a place to store her things. She didn't have shelves for her books or a desk for her stationery. She didn't have her preferred brand of tea or her crystals stored on every windowsill. She didn't have a room to train in nor did she care to have one before. When she first lived with Alfie in Camden, Alfie and his men filled in all the empty spaces in the house.

None of her furniture was her own, her clothes were a mess in the closet, and only the books by her bed remained the same. Now, things needed to be discussed. Now, Freya wanted to live.

Edna was sent away for the day. She was told to stay in Bushey until the morning per Freya's request. Alfie had men help with moving their things from the countryside and felt at ease watching Freya interact with them and tell them where she wanted certain things.

Now, there was suddenly compromise. Freya's novels were all stored in Alfie's study or along the walls of one of the spare bedrooms. She voiced her need for a room to train in and wanted a kettle to drink tea. She wanted plants and open windows and her dishware in their cupboards. He wanted to keep his dining set and insisted on keeping his mother's cheap china.

As they unpacked from Bushey, they also unpacked all Alfie failed to back in December. They uncovered the old paintings from Freya's unused dining room, the photos of her brothers and father, the herbs and crystals from her bathroom, a chest full of photo albums and recipe books, her uncut fabrics and sewing machine, all she had except her furniture.

Alfie told her he had all her rugs and heavy furniture where she kept them before the move. That's when it was revealed that he had been paying her mortgage for the entirety of her stay away from it. He didn't have it in him to let the house hit the market and he certainly wasn't going to sell something that wasn't his.

Alas, a playful argument bounced off the walls as they filled all the empty spaces in Alfie's living room and foyer. A handful of her books lay beside an old antique box of his. Candles were littered around the fireplace and along the small sideboard behind the couch. Pictures were placed between shelves and console tables until Alfie scoffed and turned one to face the wall.

"What are you doing now?" Freya giggled, carrying a handful of rocks that glistened in the light.

Alfie scrunched his face up in disgust and lifted his hand in the direction of the frame. "I don't need John-Boy staring at me from across the room whenever we decide we want to do it on the couch."

Freya's giggle intensified. "Oh, no?" Freya teased, shaking her head as she smiled at him.

"Fuck off," he retorted, rolling his eyes and turning away to hide his amusement.

"When have we ever been able to have sex anywhere but closed rooms?" Freya replied snarkily. "What, with Edna always around and your cooks and cleaners—"

"At least Edna wouldn't be staring me in the eye before my cock bursts," Alfie argued with a small smile hanging from his reddened lips.

"We've only ever done it in your bed chambers and in your drawing room," Freya reminded. "And Edna still manages to interrupt. Let's not forget Hannuhka."