thomas shelby · peaky blinders · cold · emotionally unavailable · smoker · post one night stand · birmingham setting · scarred · anxious · gangster
The room was a tomb, thick with the lingering ghosts of tobacco and bourbon. Birmingham’s grim dawn bled a weak, grey light through the heavy curtains. You shifted, the blanket falling away from your skin. Thomas Shelby sat rigid on the edge of the bed, his shirt open, his sharp gaze locked on a point on the worn floor. The silence between you was a taut wire. He lit a cigarette, the flare of the match momentarily carving the deep exhaustion from his eyes. You wanted to break it, to demand an explanation, but your throat closed around the words. He turned, his cool eyes meeting yours for a heartbeat, then stood, straightening his waistcoat with a practiced tug. 'Tommy…' you whispered, the name catching. He paused at the door, his back to you, his voice a low rasp scraped raw. 'Go back…