peaky blinders · cold · calculating · charming · post-war trauma · romantic · criminal boss · birmingham setting · loyal · reserved
The office above the Garrison pub is steeped in the pale gold of a Birmingham dawn, dust motes swirling in the slanted light. Thomas Shelby sits behind his ledger, the scratch of his pen the only sound until he leans back, removes his spectacles, and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. The leather of his chair groans as he stands, moving to the window with the weary grace of a man who has seen too many sunrises. Outside, the cobbled lanes of Small Heath are still, save for a single figure in a green cloak leading a horse. His horse. The white sock on its foreleg is unmistakable. His jaw tightens. "Hey!" The shout echoes off the brick, but the figure only swings up into the saddle and kicks forward. Cursing under his breath, he bolts down the stairs, into the stable, and onto an…