Give my heart. | Thomas Shelby [english]

/4/ A ghost I saw

I'm trying to upload a new chapter at least every Wednesday and once I finish some other stories or have more time in general, there will also be more.

Hope you like this one!

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1919, Birmingham

When Thomas entered the Shelby house, Nora was already sitting at the round kitchen table, waiting for him. He frowned unwillingly.

"How'd you get in?"

"Window." His gaze shifted towards the closed window at the other side of the room while he lit himself a cigarette. For a short moment, his mind was taken back to a time when Nora would force him to burgle into some houses on their journey together. She's always had a propensity for criminality – as long as it helped the poorer.

He took off his coat and hung it on a hook beside the door. Then, he pulled something out of its pocket and threw it onto the table. It was her knife. Nora quickly grabbed it and put it back in the pocket of her skirt.

"You didn't have to punch me so hard." Thomas said while blowing out some smoke. He did not sit down. It didn't feel right. The air in the room was strange. His family was at the betting den right now. The house was empty except for him and a woman he had once called his best friend but was nothing more than a stranger now. The fact that they had hugged just moments before did not make anything easier – rather the opposite.

"Oh, did I hurt the great Mr. Shelby? I am so sorry, I thought that you could take a slap from a woman."

"You did not slap me, you punched me."

Nora smirked but then rubbed her right hand. "If it pleases you, my hand hurts as well now."

"Want me to have a look?"

She shot him a glare. "No."

He sighed internally. She had always been difficult. And stubborn. And annoying. "Your right hook has always been that of a professional wrestler, darling." He didn't know why he called her by that nickname again but as he quickly looked up to see her reaction, she was staring at the wood of the table.

"Where is he now? Danny, I mean."

"London."

"Why did you shoot him? Or pretend to?"

"Business. None of your concern."

"Well, I asked which means that I am, indeed, concerned about it." She retorted and raised her brows.

Thomas smoked his cigarette while looking at her and trying to find out what she thought. What made her finally step up and talk to him after hiding all the time.

"If I had known it only takes to kill one of your friends to make you talk to me instead of spying on me..."

"Oh, shut it, Thomas." She quickly interrupted him but couldn't help the warmth creeping up her cheeks knowing he had, in fact, known that she had been following him. "If you had wanted to meet me then you could've come to me. I've heard there is nothing going on in this city without the bloody Peaky Blinders knowing. Please, don't try to tell me you've had no idea my family was camping in front of your town."

"You're right. I knew it. I simply didn't want to speak to you." It was a lie but guessing from how Nora smashed her hand onto the table, glaring at him with a wild, furious look in her brown eyes, she did not catch onto that. Good, he knew now that she could not read him so easily. Not like when they were children.

"Same goes for me. Wild horses couldn't drag me into a situation with you willingly."

"Then, what are we doing now eh? Two people who obviously don't want to see each other now standing in the same kitchen."

"Well, one of us is sitting, not standing." Nora crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Well, this kitchen belongs to only one of us."

At that, she stood up and approached him. The fiery sparkle was visible in her eyes again. "You kickin' me out?"

"You made it no secret that you don't like to be here. Feel free to go." He gestured towards the door with a smug expression.

"I'm also not gonna make a secret out of my wish to punch you again. It felt really good."

Nora looked up at him with narrowed eyes. He was a bit taller than her, but not much. His hair was short at the sides. She remembered how he used to cry when his mother cut it again. And how he would laugh at her because she did the same.

Everything had changed.

Even his eyes. The once so lively, flowing blue was no more than a dull, nude ghost of what it's once been. The war, Nora thought. It was still draining him.

"What's stopping you?" Thomas asked while he put his cigarette out on a small tray on the drawer. She needed a moment to remember what they were talking about. The wish to punch him again was still there, but her hand hurt already and standing so close in front of him reminded her how good it had felt to be in his arms.

For a moment, her mind dwelled on the thought of embracing him again. Only then to come to the conclusion that the version of Thomas she wanted to be close to was not the one in front of her. No, she didn't like this arrogant, self-absorbed, cold Thomas Shelby. 

"Fine." She said and stepped back, not trusting her arms to not suddenly wrap around his body. "You are a true arsehole, Thomas Shelby."

After Nora had stormed out of the house, Tommy still stood on the same spot in the kitchen, not even lighting himself another cigarette but simply staring after her. She was gone once again. In all the years he's spend in those goddamned tunnels in France he has thought about what their first encounter after the war would be like and in no possible scenario did he think that it would be like this.

"Aye, Tommy! Ya won't believe what I just saw!"

He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard his oldest brother's voice. Arthur came into the kitchen, propping himself up on the chair Nora had just sat on.

"A fucking ghost I saw. A woman was storming down the street, almost ran me over and I swear, if I didn't know it any better, I'd say it was good old Nora Shore." Tommy said nothing. He blinked and looked at his brother without any hint of emotion showing. Arthur, oblivious to his brother's mood and look, laughed at himself before shaking his head and mumbling something about needing a drink to clear his head.
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