Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: back to the old house - the smiths
✵────────[ ✵ ]────────✵
Tommy's thoughts churned incessantly with memories of Marianna James, her image etched into the fabric of his existence with every beat of his heart. In her absence, she had become a haunting presence, an ever-present spectre that haunted his every waking moment.
Never did he anticipate that their reunion would unfold amidst such chaos and danger. The sight of Mar standing victorious, bathed in the aftermath of violence, painted a grim picture of the reality they now faced. It was a stark reminder of the twisted intricacies that bound their lives together—a web of madness and unpredictability from which there seemed to be no escape.
With a heavy heart and a mind burdened by the weight of their shared history, Tommy emerged from the shadows, his footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestones. The distance between them seemed insurmountable, yet he found himself drawn inexorably towards her, unable to resist the magnetic pull of their intertwined fates.
Approaching Marianna cautiously, his leather shoes came to a halt beside a discarded felt hat on the ground. He stooped to retrieve it, brushing off the dust with gloved hands.
Yet, despite his efforts to move silently, his presence did not go unnoticed. As he straightened up to his full height, Marianna's revolver was trained on him, her face obscured by the shadows.
"Oi, stay put, or you'll end up like 'em." Mar warned, her voice tinged with tension and doubt as she couldn't make out his face in the dark, his Peaky Blinders cap keeping him incognito.
Tommy's step forward was deliberate, his voice a low murmur that sliced through the tense silence like a sharpened blade. Despite his outward composure, a rare sensation of nervousness fluttered within him, a testament to the gravity of the moment.
"Blimey, Marianna, you've got some proper stabbing skills there." He says, his grip tightening on her felt hat.
As the sound of his voice reached her ears, Mar's eyes widened in realization. A tremor ran through her body, barely perceptible yet undeniable.
Tommy's gaze swept over her bruised face and torn attire, a surge of protectiveness rising within him at the sight of her injuries. If those responsible for her pain were still breathing, he would have exacted a merciless vengeance upon them. But now, they lay on the cold ground, their own blood staining the earth.
