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Rowan.
A sudden loud banging at the door caught both our attentions as soon as he sat tenderly on my bed beside me. I watched him stand, adjust his waist coat and head down telling me to... "Stay here, alright?" And I abided seeing as I had been told so obdurately. I waited for a moment before hearing yelling and then a cry from a woman. Confused, I - without a second thought - sped down the stairs to see a man and Tommy arguing. The maids crying as a second man not of the Peaky Blinders held a gun to her head...
I panicked and managed to sneak down without catching anyone's attention some how and just as he turned the gun on Tommy I jumped on top of him and slammed him to the floor. The maid cried out and I could where I had been too late to save him from being graced by the bullet on his shoulder that I jumped on.
Also alarming me.
But I was lucky this time, it seemed the bullet went right through the gap between Tommy and I. Suddenly I was out of a plan and there I was sitting on top of Tommy Shelby in a straddle and our faces millimetres away from touching.
"OI!" Arthur yelled, tackling the man to the ground and John handling the one who held the servant hostage. Both punching them in the face and it was almost certain they had head trauma. "Are you alright?" Tommy spoke, looking up at me and catching my attention while I watched the brothers fight these men. "... I-..I I think so... are you?" I said, getting up and helping him up to the floor too. His arm had been just grazed slightly since there was blood flowing and staining his white shirt.
"You might need stitches... I can do them for you... probably." He nodded, holding the cut to stop the blood flowing so freely. John stood by Tommy, holding him lightly. "Jesus Rowan, you beat me to it." He chuckled. Tommy walked off and I followed. "This way, there's a sewing kit up there. The 'mount of times I've 'ad to 'ave this done makes us sure we've always got a needle and thread 'round 'ere somewhere." I smiled and stretched the needle and thread to a sufficient amount.
He took off his waistcoat and then his shirt and suddenly it all became a lot more intimate then just a health concern. The cut wasn't too deep but if left open it would likely get infected, probably. I don't know, I literally watch hospital dramas which are my one supply for this information. "If you don't mind?" He motioned for me to continue and I began to see the flesh. From what I heard it was a strange experience but Tommy seemed used to it. I kept the stitching clean and hoped it wouldn't leave too much of a scar. I noticed the other scars that cluttered his body in no order but they all had a severe meaning I felt. A stabbing or a shooting, that all held a memory that Tommy wished to forget.
"You pushed me out the way... thank you but you shouldn't 'ave done it. It was dangerous... you could've got fuckin' shot. Should've let John boy fo it." I smiled and ended up caressing the skin on his arm which I had automatically done as a way to calm him. Not that he displayed signs of not being serene... though I doubt a man like Tommy Shelby (who was known to have a plague in his mind) would ever feel something as foreign as peace. "Well you're welcome... I'm basically a lifesaver and you shouldn't try and deny it." He chuckled, and for the first time he smiled. It was unusual to see the devil smile, but seeing Tommy Shelby grin became an occurrence one would treasure. I had been amazed by the sheer sight of him smiling and I was still trying to convince myself I didn't feel anything for him. Trying, being the key word.
I was insanely infatuated with the man, his entire presence and the power he held over a room. He was a textbook villain at first look, but in reality he was an anti hero. He's a good man who does bad things to achieve the ambitions he's always dreamed of: the success of the family. He does everything for the family and that is honourable enough for me. I think what I understood from him and Grace's story for what there was to be written about it was that she wanted to lie to him and then change him. That's not how love works as I understand it... a-.. and I'm no Ernest Hemingway but it's about acceptance and respect. You need to realise that you can't change someone to your liking... you need to love them for who they are.
"Ew what a cliché." I said out loud and closed my eyes in immediate effect from embarrassment. "Speaking to yourself again?" Tommy asked and I turned around from the sink where I had been washing the bloody cloth. "You do that a lot 'ey?" "Just a habit I'm used to being... alone. So..." I passed the topic of loneliness quickly, not wanting to dwell on it while I had practically composed a sonnet on what a relationship would be like with the gang leader in front of me. "You really don't have a bloke waiting for you at 'ome. Just this one." He gently took the necklace between his fingers and studied it for a moment. I stood awkwardly, avoiding his face and just stared at the clock.
"Malachi is just a friend. A very good friend but... well he fancies this blonde at the office. Marianne." I over emphasised her name in the French accent she spoke in herself. I didn't like her, she seemed full of herself in her short pencil skirts and model like figure. Then there was me: hip dips, 'unfeminine abs' and red hair. Trust me, I love my hair. But it's well know everyone either likes blondes or brunettes.
What about us gingers outside the box huh?
"Rowan? I asked you a question." He said looking into my eyes with a little irritation and my eyes widened at my rudeness. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" I turned around and pinched myself again to wake myself up a bit. "I asked where those bruises came from." He said, just as I was about to pinch myself again.
"Oh... well... I first assumed I was having a lucid dream, or I was knocked out. I have a habit of clenching my fists or pinching myself when I feel I need to be punished for anything wrong I've done."
"Why is that?"
I shrugged, feeling myself lie was unwanted but that was not something I was open to sharing.
