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↳ THE LEGEND SAYS: When God created snow,
he gave it the task of visiting the flowers of
the earth to gather colors. All the flowers
refused, until the snow visited the...
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A LOUD BANG on the Garrison Pub's doors, startled Deborah. It was late at night, nearly one in the morning, and she was stuck in the pub trying to sort out all the new deliveries. She had decided that Harry had been overworking himself and offered to take a few extra jobs off his hands. Grace had tried to help Deborah, but the brunette assured her she was more then capable of a few extra hours of work.
The banging continued and Deborah reached under the counter for her hidden gun. Polly had forced her to keep one on her at all times, constantly reminding her of the risky business they were in. Slowly approaching the doors, Deborah carefully twisted the keys to unlock the door and seconds later it flung open and someone rushed inside.
"Bloody hell Tommy! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack." Deborah cursed, once she realised who had barged in. "I could have fucking shot you."
Tommy slung his soaking wet hat and jacket on to one of the bar stools and turned to face Deborah. His hair was dripping wet and water fell along the side of his structured face. After taking in Tommy's appearance, Deborah only now realised the lashing rain outside.
"You didn't though, did you." Tommy grumbled, while helping himself to a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
Realising he wasn't leaving anytime soon, Deborah relocked the doors and threw her gun back under the counter. She could tell already that something had happened to him if he had come straight here. She remembered that Polly had warned her that Tommy knew about Ada and Freddie and he wasn't happy.
"I'll leave you to it." Deborah told him, heading towards the back room.
"I came here for company." Tommy told her, before gesturing to the seat across from him. "Where's Harry?" He questioned, watching her as she cautiously took a seat.
"He took the night off. He went to that new picture." Deborah explained and accepted the glass of whiskey he handed her.
"He left you here to do all the work?" Tommy asked her and she detected the slight anger in his tone.
"I offered. Not like I've got much else to do." Deborah muttered. "How's the horse?" She decided to change the subject to break the silence.
"I just put a bullet in his head." Tommy announced. The women raised an eyebrow at his words, wanting him to explain. "He looked at me the wrong way. It's not a good idea to look at Tommy Shelby the wrong way."
Deborah scoffed at the man's words and began shaking her head. "Do you think I'm some whore you can intimidate Tommy?" She snapped.
Tommy chuckled and poured himself another drink. "You're the only women, no person, in the world who can speak to me that way. You know, in France...in France, I got used to seeing men die. I never got used to seeing horses die. They die badly."
