The surrounding fresh air bit with the bitter cold of the falling December snow. The sky above void of any mere touch of a gentle blue, replaced and now resembling the clouds of smoke swirling in the air from Thomas Shelby's burning cigarette. The cloud coverage dense as the thick grey filled the chilled atmosphere around you with a melancholy feeling. As though the sheer sight of the depressing sky, was palpable in a sensation that soared into each breath inhaled deeply into your expanding lungs. Even the flurries of freshly fallen snow, held a sadness to their fluffy white flakes. As though they were tears falling from the heavens, frozen in mid fall and landing against the dead and barren land in restless breaths. A sight usually so beautiful in the midst of the cold winter months of Birmingham, felt numbing in a completely different fashion.
The car was parked upon a wide stretched field, the engine stilled and silent as the only sound came from the howling wind, rustling through the bare branches of nearby trees. The ground once plentiful and lush in a beautiful jade green, now crumbled in dying shades of brown and the harshest hue of lifeless yellow. Gone were the traces of wildflowers once bloomed in the middle of spring, washed away were the remnants of an environment once alive and glowing with an intimate beauty. A dead slice of land, lonely and afraid, cold and empty, now left in its place. The melancholy sky stretched its bleak grey hue across the horizon, until it nearly vanished into the shadows of tomorrow thousands of miles away. Crippled branches of exposed and stripped trees stood like silhouettes against the depressive backdrop, and it felt as though they were limbs reaching out to the heavens for a helping hand.
Your hands laid still in your lap, wringing your fingers together through the thick leather lining of your gloves. The leather brushing against the soft wool of your deep burgundy coat, draping over your thighs and concealing the beginning of your black heeled boots. The wind blew across the bare nape of your neck, as your hair remained hidden in tightly coiled curls beneath the comfort of your matching winter hat. Feeling like Father Winter's fingers trailed across your flesh, leaving traces of ice beneath the very surface of your bare skin. The early evening air seemed colder than that of the morning chill, even as the snow had begun in the early hours, it felt as though the temperatures around you had dipped drastically since the drive out of the city.
Your eyelashes fluttered against the blow of the cold, feeling the dampness of stray snowflakes landing upon the black swoops of your lashes, before almost immediately soaking through like saturating tears. Your lips felt moments away from being numb, as you moved them faintly, the sight of your softly exhaled breath freezing in the air in front of you. The soft puff intertwining with the darker swirls of Tommy's exhaled cigarette smoke. Watching as though they danced with each other, before dissipating into the bitter cold together.
"Why did you bring me out here Tommy?" They were the very first words either of you had spoken since that late morning, when he'd picked you up without a single warning, claiming he wanted to take you for a short ride. Hours passed by as the sight of Small Heath disappeared into the rearview mirror. A silence falling over the car, one that never felt uncomfortable to you but rather an expected part of Thomas Shelby's company. But now, as you sat shivering in the snowfall as the night slowly began to approach the lasting hours of the daylight, you couldn't help from speaking up softly.
Turning your head to the side, feeling the smooth upholstery of Tommy's car brushing against your shoulder, your eyes fell upon his stoic frame. His eyes trained upon the field stretched out before you, his body straightened and sitting tall in the driver's seat beside you. His hands rested against the neatly tailored fabric of his suit, fingers brushing over his thighs, as a burning cigarette hung from his slightly parted lips. The pink of his full and even lips, standing out with the worn white of the cigarette balanced between. Watching the trail of dark smoke fizzling upwards into the open air, the end burning and turning to ash in the passing seconds, as the strong but familiar scent of tobacco smoke filled your senses.
