❝If you want me. EARN ME!❞
❝Alright. I'll earn you, I'll do it.❞
in which amara singh, a former employee to the shelby's is ready to move on with her life beyond their gang empire and open her own business. if only thomas shelby was ready to let her...
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WHEN AMARA AWOKE her cut stung from the morning sun. She tried her best to lift her head off the cushions and stretch her arms out towards the curtains but all she managed to do was pull her body forward for only a second or less before an ache (that felt a lot more like a burn) made her fall back on the cushions. Her fingers trailed to her temple, reaching the cotton bandaged over the cut then she gasped loudly at the pain. It was strange to feel softness with such a sharp sting."Shit," cursed Amara before jolting her head upwards and wincing at the sudden movement. "Ow,"
The fixer glanced over to where she thought her drawer would be and ━ "Ah," Amara grimaced, clutching her arm that banged against the wall. It all came back. The night before, her rash decision led her to share the same bed as Tommy Shelby. The bed that was once hers as much as it was his was a stranger to her much like this house. Memories of the past ran through her when she took a glance at the room that never changed ━ the room that was a constant reminder of the happy days, the days before the war. She hadn't felt like that in ages, until yesterday happened ━ until she was in his arms again, not angry, not keeping secrets, it was just them. Her memory was foggy but she was certain he didn't have to try hard to get her upstairs. By the time, he'd dressed her forehead, arm and stomach in cotton bandages and cleaned her cheeks, she was already half asleep.
Amara would only be surprised if he didn't carry her to his bedroom.
As soon as she turned expecting to see him next to her, she was just met with the man-shaped crease in the little space beside her. Disappointed, Amara let out a sigh, tracing her fingers along the sheet, flattening it as if he would return when she finished but unsurprisingly Tommy Shelby did not return. So, Amara slid herself onto his side of the bed, memories of them spending long nights together under shushed giggles and hard tickles ran through her brain. She picked the moments when the most important thing on her mind was not being heard by his family.
How she wished she could go back to it; where there was no blackmail, no threats and no imminent danger. They were two people madly in love and perhaps they were still like that. Except, that love was just unprofessional, they were scared to be seen, not scared of being killed by just being together. Not scared of each other and what their love will do to them. It was the simplest thing she'd ever known, To him, she was just Amara ━ not a Singh, not an investment shaped and used like a trophy or something to fight over. Back then, she didn't appreciate it. Amara complained about being a secret, rather than rejoicing no one knew hers. Now, her secret waved in the air corrupting every bond she had for herself and the fixer eyes found the exact cupboard, Tommy had stuffed her in.
