The sound of rain drums against my roof and wakes me up from a long slumber. The little sunlight makes it way into the room, warming me up like a hug I need. My fingers edge out across my bed, empty. And I'm thankful of this. Thomas slept elsewhere.
I bathe in my bedroom, leaving the door open. And as I rub my body wash over my body and shampoo my hair, I can feel a set of eyes on me and turn to face a standing Thomas Shelby.
I have his back to him, so he can't see anything except for my naked back, everything else is under the scorching hot water.
"Good morning," He says in a raspy voice, walking towards the open window. He sits down on the window ledge, legs open and runs his cigarette over his lips.
I don't say anything as I continue to wash myself. And he continues to watch me.
"I got to go home, Valentina." He looks around my big washroom before landing his eyes on mine.
I move to the side, where he can see my breasts, but not the nipple. No, that water seems to modestly cover that as well.
"Sure." I tell him. "Safe travels."
I don't know how, or why, but my throat has seemed to recover on its own. I no longer feel a pain. As I was excepting. Nor do I sound hoarse or strained. I sound like myself, I just need to keep it easy. No screaming.
"You'll be coming with me." He instructs once lighting up his smoke.
I shake my head. "I have plans today."
"Which entail what?" He looks at me unamused.
I send him back that rude look, examining him. He looks tired, but the type of tired that makes him look cute. It's hard to explain, he almost looks like a young boy. His dress shirt is on, sleeves rolled up, hair a mess, lips a plump pink. He looks casual. I must confess, Thomas is one desirable man.
I shift slightly, cold hair rushes over my nipple as I lean over the bathtub and look at him. "Come bathe with me."
He mentions the steam coming from the tub. "It's too hot, love."
I smirk. "Excuses, excuses."
He pushes himself to stand, holding that cigarette in his mouth before bending down before me.
Thomas takes a pull before taking it out of his mouth and putting the cigarette between my lips. "Here."
I suck, never loose eye contact with him before he pulls it out of my mouth. I don't flinch when he reaches for me, cradling the side of my head. His thumb smoothens out my cheek, he studies my face the way he does in moments like this. "How are you feeling?" His voice is low, private. Intimate.
I nod, exhaling. "Better."
He tilts my chin up with his finger, examining my neck. "You healed well."
"Thank you." The human body is fascinating, isn't it Tommy.
"You've got such a beautiful smile." He reveals.
As if that's the password, I grin at him.
"You distract me, you know that." He says before giving me a serious look. "Let me take you home. Please?"
I grab his wrist and pull him off of me. Turning around, I can almost feel the ends of my hair whip him before I sink into the water, putting all of my body in and holding my breath. And then next time I come up, Thomas is gone. And I'm thankful.
Downstairs, I note the women who fill my house. New faces, but they all speak Italian. I guess they've been imported in.
"Hello, Mrs. Capone." A woman in a maids suit say, which intrigues me.
