"ONCE UPON A TIME
AN ANGEL AND A
DEVIL FELL IN LOVE."
PEAKY BLINDERS
THOMAS SHELBY x OC
PRE-SEASON 1 - ?
DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Peaky Blinders or any of the gifs used in this story. I do own the plot line and all original characters that...
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"Clipped wings,
I was a broken thing."
✞
____________________________
Liverpool February 1908
THE DAY SEEMED TO MATCH THE SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD GIRLS MOOD PERFECTLY; the thick cluster of clouds blocking out any hope of the sun breaking through and warming the chill that had settled deep within her very soul. The steady fall of rain helping to mask the light stream of tears dripping down her pale cheeks that were devoid of their usual rosey glow. The world around her was dull now; cast in a fog of gray she feared would never pass.
She felt as if she were watching the proceedings of the funeral from outside her own body. None of this felt real.
It couldn't possibly be real. I had only been gone an hour! How could they be gone? This isn't real!
"But it is real. They're gone and they won't be coming back," something dark in her mind whispered to her as she silently and numbly watched the caskets containing her beloved parents disappear into the ground.
She was the only person standing witness to the burial of both her parents, the funeral having been arranged by a by the church; no one had known where to look for extended family to invite to the service and she hadn't been too much help in that department, still having been doused in too much shock at the sudden tragedy to care much about the number of guests in attendance for what would be, without a doubt, the worst day of her life.
As the priest, Father Vincent, that was overseeing the service finished up whatever prayer he had been saying, the girl hadn't heard a word of it, he nodded in her direction as he turned and took his leave back across the cemetery to the church leaving her alone to wonder what in the world she was supposed to do now.
With a deep, heartbroken sigh, she turned to follow Father Vincent back into St. Mary's Church, a far off figure caught her eye and stopped the redhead in her tracks.
Beneath the heavy shade of a large oak tree, covered from the onslaught of rain, stood a man silhouetted by a plume of smoke from a cigar or cigarette he had just taken from his lips. The girl squinted to try and make out his features through the smoke and the rain. All she could tell of the man was that he was tall, maybe a few inches shorter than what her father had once stood, in a seemingly finely tailored suit; the wide brim of his topper helping to shroud his face as well.
