FLAMES ━━ 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲

𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚.

𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 | 𝘈 𝘛𝘈𝘓𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘌𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘉𝘌𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘠𝘈𝘓𝘚

｡･:*:･ﾟ✧ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

AT 9 'O CLOCK THE NEXT MORNING, Thomas Shelby knocked on Annabel Keats' door.

When she opened the door, Tommy gulped and suddenly his suit felt too tight, too hot around his body. There she was, Annabel Lee in all her glory, the vibrant red of her dress accentuating the pulsing of Tommy's blood in his veins, complimenting her fiery curls that seemed to bounce of her shoulders with a life of their own. The jewels encrusted on the short sleeves of her dress caught the little light that this gloomy morning in Birmingham offered, and reflected as she twirled for Tommy, making his breath catch in this throat at the sight as a giggle pushed past her lips.

Tommy felt as if he was staring at the scorching hot sun, and he was suddenly worried he would end up burned.

He cleared his throat and offered his arm to Annabel, who took it gladly, noticing how firm and strong the muscles underneath his suit were, reminding her of the life Tommy Shelby had chosen to lead.

Annabel broke the silence. "Will it be just the two of us, at the races?"

Tommy helped her into the car and made his way to the driver's seat, climbed in and started the motor. "Something like that." He replied.

They left for Cheltenham.

Halfway through, Annabel spoke up. "Tell me something about yourself, Tommy."

It came out of nowhere, and even Annabel seemed surprised with the words that had pushed past her mouth.

He didn't answer. Minutes passed and Annabel let out a sigh.

"Got me some medals, after the war. Threw them in the cut."

Annabel stayed quiet. She knew this of him of course, she had heard the stories, yet hearing it coming out of his mouth was different. It told the tale of a man who had been broken by the motherland who was supposed to protect him. The war had ravished everything and everyone, but no one was quite as destroyed as the men who came back but left their old souls in France.

"So did my brother. It went straight into the Thames."

Annabel turned to look at Tommy and the beauty of his features left her without her breath. She wondered once again what he was like before the war had robbed them of their lives.

"Damn them, for what they did to you, men, in France." She muttered, and Tommy felt a tug to his heartstrings and he almost cursed her for making him feel things. He'd been hearing that often, these days yet in her voice, it sounded like something new.

She couldn't stop staring at him, how his blue eyes melted with the grey of the English skies as his frame stood up as strong in such a delicate rural setting.

"And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes of the beautiful Annabel Lee..." He said.

Annabel blushed and turned her gaze away. "I didn't know you were familiar with the poem." She tried not to think of his words too much. They were simply a poem, not anything coming from him directly.