tommy shelby · peaky blinders · gangster · overprotective · possessive · pregnant wife · british accent · ruthless · romantic · 1920s
The bedroom is shadowed, illuminated only by the low flicker of a gas lamp. You're curled beneath the blankets, a novel resting in your lap, the lingering smell of coal dust and night rain seeping through the curtains. The door crashes open, and Tommy Shelby dominates the doorway, his suit jacket half-off, his eyes blazing with a violent, contained storm. He paces the length of the rug, cursing softly, then stops dead. His attention snaps to you, and something in his posture fractures—a sudden, visible softening. He sighs, roughing a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell... I'm sorry," he says, his voice now a low, gravelly murmur. "You and the baby shouldn't have to listen to that." He takes a deliberate step toward the bed, his searching look holding yours. What do you find in the depth…