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Groaning as she stretched, Lucille struggled to keep herself asleep with the bright light of the sun shining through the thin curtains.
The bed she had slept in was a huge comfort to her and definitely comfier than that of The Garrison's floor and she internally kissed Arthur's feet for doing this for her.
He really was a sweetheart despite everything she had heard about him.
Lucille got dressed for the day before she skipped down the stairs and to the kitchen, failing to notice the figure of Thomas Shelby sitting in the arm chair in the living area of her new home.
She put the kettle on the stove, humming a song to herself as she done so.
Thomas watched her as he leaned against the door frame, smirking.
The sound of him clearing his throat and lighting a cigarette is what startled Lucille, making her jump and lift a plate that was left on the draining board.
"Nice weapon." Thomas snickered, finding her in her startled state very amusing. He pointed and spoke sarcastically. "Very effective I'm sure."
"Fuck you!" She threw the plate anyway, watching as it smashed against the wall beside his head where she had aimed for. A piece of the broken plate had bounced off the wall and sliced a small piece of Thomas' cheek without him or Lucille noticing.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?"
"You just threw a plate at my head." He spoke so calmly.
Lucille was worried for his mental health until she remembered that he had been in far more dangerous scenarios than a woman throwing a plate at his head.
"Answer the question, Thomas!" She demanded.
Tommy chuckled, taking a seat at the dining table and eyeing her from head to toe.
"Do you want to fuck me?"
The question took Lucille by surprise and she stood with her mouth slightly ajar and eyebrows raised.
To be honest, she'd never thought about it; but now she was. And she found herself debating the answer in her mind.
When she zoned in to reality again and saw the smirk on Thomas' face, anger bubbled inside her blood once again.
"Fuck you." Venom spilled from her mouth as she spoke. "Get the fuck out of here."
"As you wish." He stood. "The offer stands."
"I'm not a whore, Thomas."
"I know." He smiled and put out his cigarette.
"So don't treat me nor speak to me like one ever again." She threatened. "Now get out."
Thomas left without another word but a very prominent smirk plastered onto his face.
As he walked through the musky streets of Small Heath, people moved out of his way but stared with confusion at the cut he had on his face but mostly at the facial expression he held for they were used to him having no expression what-so-ever.
