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sᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑐𝑡
❦
Neither her brother's anger nor Elena's disappointment and weariness had warned Maria away from the Peaky Blinders. If anything, it only strengthened her need to see him. Her stomach burned with a feeling she couldn't recognise. At first, she thought it was anxiety. The chance of being caught, both my Luca or one of Arthur's brothers always loomed overhead. But it wasn't that. Excitement fuelled her fire too much for the feeling to be anxiety.
Arthur walked on the opposite side of the street to where her old apartment sat. It hadn't been occupied in months- the windows were boarded up, with dust settling on the flat surfaces and the light not as bright as it once was. It was neutral territory, but that didn't stop Luca from dragging her away to the confines of his hotel. She was lucky enough to escape on the odd night.
Arthur stood by the doorway, his hat held earnestly in his hands, eyes darkened but weary at the same time. Maria held her breath as she watched him enter, footsteps edging politely toward her as if scared she would scream or pounce open a trap. No matter how many evening they'd spent in each others company, that sense of initial distrust still lingered. It saddened her, not because he was afraid to trust her, but because he had been programmed to be like this, so cautious and cynical. He sat beside her near the fire, and they shared a light smile as she poured him a drink.
"Thank you," Arthur said, muttering slightly. "For inviting me, I mean, after everything."
"Of course," Maria said. "I am not my brother. Besides, I haven't been here in a very long time. I didn't want my first to be alone."
Elena would have come to spare another meeting with the Shelby. But that did not matter. Elena was angry, and that would upset the baby, if her mother had anything to say, and Maria didn't want to face the rather of her or Luca.
It wasn't until later in the night, that Arthur turned the conversation, his presence getting closer and closer to her.
"I could love you if you let me," he whispered, eyes lowering dramatically.
"What do you mean?"
"The devil's in my heart."
She shook her head, already having heard those words from him before. "You're a good man."
"You keep saying that!" He snapped, making her flinch slightly. "What have you seen that makes you believe that?"
"Your conflict with faith proves how much it means to you. You're not like my brother or his men or your brothers. You've begun to think before you pull the trigger. You've changed. I know you have," Maria said, her hand moving up his arm. "My mother was your school teacher, don't think I didn't know who you were."
"I wish you were right," he said, becoming breathless. "It's impossible not to love an angel."
She couldn't fight the burn any longer. Maria's hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him in toward her. She kissed him, slowly, tentatively, at first, and then with more passion, feeling him crumble beneath her touch, a groan leaving his lips, vibrating against her skin. Arthur's hands reached out, touching her gently as if he was scared she would break as they moved from her neck to her shoulders and down past her waist.
A sigh left his lips, brushing against the tip of her nose. "I need this," he said, panting slightly. "But are you sure?"
She could feel him next to her. Maria's eyes were shut still, her nose leaning against his bristly cheek. She was scared that if she opened her eyes, her courage would fall away, dissolving into ounces of shame. This was wrong, she knew. But she burned to say yes, to devour the tension in her body and in the air whole. If it was wrong, then why did it feel so, so right?
"Yes," she hissed, feeling him tighten beneath her touch as the words fanned against his face. "I want this."
