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𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: sunday - the cranberries
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Tommy Shelby sat at the head of the long, polished dining table, surrounded by a breakfast feast he hadn't the appetite for. Plates of eggs, bread, sausages, and fruit were laid out with precision, untouched. All he had was his cigar in one hand, and a glass of whiskey in the other. It was early, but not early enough to dull the edge that had been gnawing at him since dawn.
His thoughts drifted between the meticulous details of the day's plans—the tiresome task of barking orders, managing the unpredictable lot that called themselves the Blinders, and tying up loose ends that seemed to multiply like weeds. Yet, his thoughts, like smoke, kept winding back to something else—or rather, someone else.
For months now, she had been there, a constant presence whether he asked for it or not. Marianna. She had visited him during his recovery, sat with him through silent breakfasts, late-night cigarettes, and dinners he never touched. He didn't eat, not with her, but her company... did he miss it? The question nagged at him like an itch he couldn't scratch, unsettling him in a way nothing else could.
"Since when d'ya kip in me room?" A voice broke through the fog of his thoughts. Feminine, smooth, and laced with a dangerous amusement.
Tommy halted in his tracks, halfway to his office, realizing he was standing outside a bedroom; he and Charles' sleeps in. The door was wide open, and there she was. Marianna. The woman who seemed to invade his space and mind with alarming ease. She was in the middle of removing her black leather gloves, tossing them casually onto the bed.
"What are you doing here?" Tommy cocked his head, studying her with that familiar mix of suspicion and curiosity, one eyebrow raised.
"You needin' me to go wi' ya to that meetin' wi' the Blinders today, ain't ya?" Marianna's voice was slow, deliberate, her steps unhurried as she moved about the room.
Tommy took the invitation to enter fully, closing the double doors behind him with a quiet click. The room felt smaller now, charged with her presence. "I don't recall sayin' that."
"Oh, Tommy." She stopped just before him, her long velvet green skirt swirling around her ankles as she did. There was something almost mocking in her eyes, a glint that made the corner of her lips twitch with amusement. "You rang me up in the dead of night three days ago, sayin' just that."
