Forbidden Afflictions // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(19) Shadows

I am so thankful for you all. I appreciate the fact that you who have made it this far have stayed with me through all the writer's block and inconsistency. I've been struggling with motivation and pacing and I don't want to be repetitive but have found myself doing so anyway to meet a criterion I set for myself. I have taken a little step away from this story to pursue other endeavors (which I have failed to keep motivation for as well :|) but I'm hoping, despite the short excerpts, that this is a good point to begin the first rising action of this story. 

Putting myself in Freya's shoes is extremely hard since I have only experienced a fraction of her traumas and things won't go back to the way they used to be before she was hurt beyond repair. There are stages of grief and yet I don't know when it's appropriate for this character to transition between them since so many men and women and people go through this far too often and I want to do justice to the strength and healing. 

I simply want to thank those of you who vote for chapters or leave comments or even add this story or the previous one to your libraries and reading lists. Having people not only read my work but like and enjoy it means the world to me. It's often the only thing keeping this story going. So, as if I haven't said it enough, thank you. 

This chapter may be a bit bland or quick or all over the place, but good things... well... climatic things... are soon to come here on out. I hope you enjoy. I love y'all.

-V

In the morning, Alfie turned to his side and pressed his fingers to the side of Freya's neck before attempting to peel himself from the sheets. When he felt the gentle rhythm of her pulse against his fingertips, he breathed a sigh of relief and got ready for work.

He welcomed Edna back, along with the other workers who began tidying up the house as Freya slept. After he ate and said a morning prayer, he came upstairs to say goodbye but found Freya already half-dressed by then.

"Well, morning, Love," he said with a curious tone.

"Morning, Alfie," she sighed, brushing her hair and tying it into a bun with sloppy movements. It was as if she had weight hanging from her arms, and lifting them off the floor was more than just a challenge but a matter of will.

"Where are you off to this early?" he questioned, watching in admiration and concern as she readied herself, covering her eyebrow with makeup and flattering her lashes for the first time in many months.

Freya looked at Alfie through the mirror, sliding a boring pair of sapphire studs into her earlobes as she spoke. "I'm hoping to catch Michael. He'll give me more than Polly will right now but I'm sure he'll be prioritizing the company on his mum's birthday; what, with protocol and all—"

"You goin' alone?" Alfie asked dolefully, not realizing her adventure from yesterday would encourage her so quickly.

"Yeah. It's my hometown. Why shouldn't I?" Freya had her doubts and fears but she didn't want Alfie to see how nervous she was. Not only was his worry not needed, but she had to go back. She had to reenter the world and seeing her aunt was her biggest priority since finding her coked out in her abandoned drawing room back home.

Alfie shrugged and pouted as if in defeat. "You've only just come out of bed. That's a big step."

Freya shook her head in disagreement. "Don't worry," she sighed, turning around and fastening her blades to her body.

"I'm always gonna worry," Alfie grunted, coming up to Freya and wrapping his arms around her waist. He smiled warmly and kissed her, smiling wider once she accepted him and returned the affection.

Freya could sense his easiness. His chest deflated and his shoulders seemed to loosen as she fell into his lips. They were warm and tasted of tea which was a pleasant surprise considering Alfie never made himself tea. It had always been Freya making it for him. But today was different. A good different, she thought.