Bloodsport ; tommy shelby

𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 - flip of a coin

Iris was awoken in a cold sweat. She felt the weight of an arm around her face, and the rhythmic sound of breathing on the side of her face. A lump formed in her throat, and she began to panic. In a second she was transported back to that house, that room, the cold breeze coming in through the window. She pushed herself up, breathing heavily as she scanned the room.

It was only when her eyes fell upon a sleeping Thomas Shelby that she could cast the past away from her mind. She leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily as she tried to calm herself down.

It was still dark outside, and the snowflakes that had fallen when they had kissed had multiplied, cloaking every surface out on the street. There was something so beautiful about the way it brightened everything up on a street that was usually so dark and dreary. Iris breathed heavily once more and allowed herself to slip back down into Tommy's arms.

She kept her eyes open, surveying his face while he slept. It was an odd sight, seeing him sleeping. The king of Small Heath asleep like a baby, unable to stare you down with his cold blue eyes. It was a strange notion, sleep. Only when confronted with the sight of Tommy sleeping did she realise how uncharacteristically vulnerable he looked.

Iris reached out a hand and traced his shoulder with her fingertips. The star tattoo on his upper arm that he must've got in the war, the light blush of freckles on his skin. She wondered how many women saw him sleeping, and then wondered if she should leave, slip off home before he woke up. Maybe he would want that. She doubted he was the kind of man who would make her breakfast, not that she wanted that.

Iris lightly lifted his hand off her waist and brought it up to the pillow between their faces. Her lips brushed his worn fingers lightly and she planted a small kiss on them before letting them go.

She tiptoed across the floorboards to where her clothes lay in a heap, and began to slowly put on her underwear. He turned over in his sleep. Just as she was about to pull on her tights, she saw his body twitch violently, and his breathing became rapid.

Iris stayed still, watching him as he began to toss and turn in his bed. She blinked, ready to panic again, until she remembered that night weeks ago when she'd spoken to Polly. It must have been the shellshock. Iris dropped her tights and almost ran back into the bed, putting her hand on his shoulder again.

His eyes were open now, but he didn't seem conscious. They were glassy, panicked. He was dreaming.

His back still turned, Iris clambered back into bed and pulled the covers up over them. She wrapped an arm around his waist, feeling how fast his heart was beating, and pressed her cheek against his back.

"Shhh," she murmured, not sure what else to do.

She did what she would have needed all those nights in the past six years when she woke up in a panic but there was nobody there to comfort her.

Iris told herself she'd leave when he calmed down a little, but she could already feel her eyes surrendering to sleep.

♞

The morning light was piercing with the brightness of the snow, casting a crisp white glow over the room. Iris blinked, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to adjust to her surroundings. This time it was Tommy that was awake, he lay flat on his back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Iris shut her eyes, rolling back onto her side. She silently cursed herself for not sneaking out while he was still asleep. Maybe he would go downstairs and she could slip out unnoticed.

She stole a look through her half-closed eyelids and caught him staring at her.

"Good morning," he said, and she fully opened her wide blue eyes.

Iris blinked. "Morning," she said quietly. She sat up, tucking her messy brown hair behind her ears.

He watched her as she got up, slipping her long legs into the pair of tights on the floor.

"Do you have somewhere to be, Iris?" He asked, and she looked up.

"Not exactly," she admitted. She had just assumed he'd want her to leave. "Do you?"

"I was going to go and see my horse," he told her.

"Monaghan Boy?" She asked.

Tommy shook his head. "I've got a new one."

Iris raised an eyebrow.

"Half Arabian, half Shire," he told her. "Beautiful."

"How did you afford that?" She asked, pulling on her dress and sitting down at the foot of the bed.

"Won a bet." He said, a small smile on her lips.

"What kind of bet?" She asked, smiling back.

"Flipped a coin," Tommy said.

Iris scoffed. "Aren't you a lucky man," she said. Only Tommy Shelby could win a half Arabian on a coin toss.

"That I am," he said, and his eyes lingered on hers. He paused for a moment. "Do you want to come and meet her?"

Iris smiled. "I'd love to."

♞

It was still early, and Iris and Tommy had managed to slip out of the house before anyone could see them. They trudged through the snow arm in arm towards the stables.

"Have you named her?" Iris asked as she looked the honey brown horse up and down. She was truly stunning, a gorgeous golden brown with feathered white legs. Her coat reminded Iris a little of the colour of her favourite drink, whiskey.

Tommy shook his head. "I thought you could."

"Me?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"In fact, I thought you might like to have her."

"What?" Iris' head snapped up. "As in... keep?"

"As in keep," Tommy nodded with a straight face.

Iris blinked. "Why?"

"You've helped me, Iris," he said.

She scoffed. "I barely worked eight hours, Tom, I hardly deserve a horse."

"I don't mean just with work." He said.

"I can barely ride... and horses are expensive," Iris protested. She'd never been given something like this.

"I'll teach you," he said. "Look, stop complaining, I'm giving you a bloody horse," he added with a smile. "I didn't spend a penny."

Iris smiled. She couldn't exactly refuse. And besides, it was Christmas soon.