Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Tommy
"So this is what London looks like."
Lucille's eyes were bright as she scanned the street opposite. They had been dropped off a few corners away from their destination so the french girl could see the sights, watching as the business men hurried their way past and the done-up women scattered the pavement.
"Underwhelming once you've seen Paris eh?" He said, noticing the way she flinched away from passers by, not used to the busyness of the city.
"Not really." She said, shaking her head. "It has its charm."
The two hadn't spoke about that night. Only two days had passed, and they had gone back to the time when they had first met, stealing love-struck glances and tender touches without a word said of their feelings. It was an unusual way to go about things, but it seemed to work. For Tommy, it allowed him to stay focused on his work, and for Lucille it abled her to concentrate on the fact that she wasn't in France anymore.
"What do you think happened to him after the war? Do you think he won over the Lady?" She said, as they stepped into the lavishly decorated hallway of their old friend's club.
"I have a feeling he did." Tommy said, glancing down to see that she was already looking at him. "Seems we both did."
She blushed, smiling shyly. The way he wasn't afraid to flatter her or be loving toward her anymore, it warmed her heart. Tommy was like a changed man, ever since his confession and the uttering of the three words that couldn't have been more true.
"I haven't forgiven you entirely." She teased.
"I know that. Don't expect you to either." He paused, staring deep into her eyes. "I'm taking you to the races."
"The races?"
Tommy nodded. Before Lucille could say a single word more of her excitement, a deep voice interrupted them from the edge of the room. A blond in an expensive suit stepped out, looking more like a millionaire business owner than the man they knew in France.
Not that there was anything wrong with that. In fact, Tommy found himself admiring his old friend- it seemed they had more in common that he originally thought. Both men wanted more than what life had given them, and it seemed they both strived to get, even if their methods were quiet different.
"Tommy Shelby! Bloody hell!" He exclaimed, a wide smile stretching his skin and crumpling his face with laughter lines. "How long has it been, lad?"
Dawson brought him in for a large hug, ignoring the outstretched hand with indifference. Tommy laughed, patting his back in turn, watching as his eyes drifted to Lucille beside him, his eyes brightening more than what should have been possible. His hands were under her arms in seconds, lifting her into a hug and spinning them around.
