It's the roaring twenties in Birmingham, the Peaky Blinders exist alongside God but they were much, much closer at hand than Him. Mercedes de Silva, thornless withered rose, petals filled with sorrow. Thomas Shelby, ruthlessly ambitious, conflicted...
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THOMAS SHELBY IS NOT SOMEONE WHO'S VOCAL TO HIS MISTAKES but it's an entirely different discussion when it comes to Mercedes. The leader of Peaky Blinders knew he was in the wrong at that time, he shouldn't have had lost his patience and started the fight against Sabini's men especially that his woman was present. He was well aware that Mercy was still mad at him since she hadn't replied to any of his letters and returned any of his phone calls.
"Excuse me, delivery for... Ms. de Silva?" a man in a tuxedo suddenly burst into the clinic, a gigantic flower bouquet in his hand.
"Another one?" Olivia sighed, scratching her brow. It was only past lunch yet there had been seven deliveries for her friend, and she was certain it was from Thomas Shelby.
Mercy was inside the treating room and she couldn't disturb her, left with no choice, she signed the papers and received the flowers. Olivia examined the gift, and her eyes nearly bulged out of their socket when she noticed that there were brilliantly sparkling stones in the middle of it—a fine diamond necklace it was.
"Ain't you loaded, Mr. Shelby?" she grumbled to herself before taking the gift to Mercy's desk. As soon as Mercy's patient left the treatment room, a breath of relief escaped her throat as she realized it wasn't such a busy Wednesday afternoon today.
She was feeling restless these past few days and her lover's quarrel didn't help either. She couldn't forget the way how her fingers hugged the gun's trigger and how defeaning the gunshot noise was.
It kept ringing in her ears, that buzzing sound as if cicadas were singing next to her. And what made it worse was the disturbing memory of killing Jaime, it kept flashing before her eyes as she continues to remember pulling the trigger.
Jaime was crawling from her conscience's slits to the surface of her head, consuming and devouring her inner strength. His sinister grin as he willingly kissed death on the cheek, his voice and laugh that played over and over in her head like a broken disc record.
Jaime was festering her from the inside out, and any minute he would take over her completely—Mercy just wanted everything to end.
"Hun! You alright?" Olivia's voice snapped her out of dwam, eliciting a small gasp from her. Mercy glanced at the brunette and flashed a forced smile, "I'm fine, Libby," her right hand resting on the fresh bouquet on her desk.
Thomas had been sending her presents since yesterday, and most of them were rather extravagant and burdening to accept, like the diamond necklace she was now holding. Mercy began to wonder if Thomas truly knew her as a person.
Olivia squinted down her eyes at the raven-haired woman, her shoulder was leaned against the door frame, "D'ya want to wag off?" she asked, but Mercy just shook her head.
