• THE ONE • A Thomas Shelby Fanfic •

C9 - Say You Love Me Too

I had allowed two days to myself. Getting my life together, getting the house sorted out. I went to the shops, grocery shopping, found a lad to help sell the house. I was packing my belongings, ready to go back to Romania.
I wanted to stay, don't get me wrong, I really fucking wanted to stay. Truly, the only thing keeping me was a taken man. How was I going to stay when Tommy was here, Christ, his face was in my mind already. I can only imagine bumping into him and his wife, it'll be incredibly unbearable.

I dreamt deeply of him. I was hot when I awoken, even though the room was cold. I dreamt of all of him, his lips, his voice, his tongue, his hands, those eyes. Everything.

But that's all I could do if I stay, is miss him and dream of him. So, Romania was where I needed to be, back to where I could heal. Back to my roots, back to the beach, the quiet.

I knew he was arriving today, on this fine Wednesday morning. I knew Tommy Shelby woke up, thinking about me. I knew he sat in his bed; with her laying sound asleep. I knew he ran his hand over his face, he thought tirelessly about me. He ate, he thought about me. He took his cigarette out of his carton, he thought about me.

He had plans today. Tommy was to drive to his office, get work done before finding himself outside of my house. I could feel a tension in his body as he stormed up my fathers house. He was enraged! Livid.
With me?

The past two days drew him astray, Tommy Shelby was always in denial of my abilities until being able to transfer my anger onto him the night of my fathers wake. I sent a shock from my body to his. I didn't mean it, but I also did. After all, I had just witnessed him and his wife having sex.

So, to hear him bang on my front door, filled with so much rage, I felt quite astonished. I had finished peeling carrots for the beasts that were waiting out in the backward when I yanked open the front door.

"Why the fuck did I hear that you're looking to sell the house?"

"Christ." I roll my eyes, ready to shut the door on his annoying-but-adorable face.

He puts his hand on the door and holds it in place, preventing me from shutting the door. "I'm not done with you."

I laugh, walking into my house. I don't realize it only forces him into my home. I march to the kitchen, where I chuck a few goodies into a basket that is looped around my arm.

"Where are you going? Why are you selling the house?" He looks around, Thomas is upset. I've seen this reaction many times, but he was always mad at someone else. Not me.

"I'm selling the house because there is nothing left here for me, Tom."

"Nothing left here for you?" He asks, frozen.

I stare at him, his attire. The perfect suit he wears, fitting him perfectly. Where is my sweet Tommy in all of that? I swallow, my throat aching. "Yes."

"What about me?" He takes a step towards me. "Jesus, Bria, enough with the running. I love you!"

Love! Chucking a few carrots into my basket, I wag one at him. I meet his eyes, cold, tired. "Oh! That's rich coming from you considering the events that took place on my fathers wake."

He rids himself of the emotions he shows on his face for a beat. Tommy goes back to the reason he's here, "You'll not sell this house."