TROUBLE ━━━━━━━
(shelby sister!oc x peaky blinders)
Peaky Blinders, season one - six
━━━━━━━
IN WHICH, Clara Shelby must
come to terms with the fact
that life is changing for her
and her ragtag family.
( extended summary inside )
━━━...
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☆
small heath, birmingham, 1913
IT WAS LATE AND EIGHT-YEAR-OLD CLARA SHELBY WAS utterly screwed. She was supposed to go straight home from school, she was supposed to help Aunt Pol with dinner, she was supposed to make no stops, yet here she was an hour and a half later, limping down Watery Lane.
She hadn't meant to be late. She hadn't meant to be sidetracked, but in all honesty, it wasn't entirely her fault. I mean if anyone were to get the blame it should be Jack Carlisle.
Jack Carlisle hated Clara Shelby, and she hated him— it was a mutual feeling, it was quite possibly the only thing they could both agree on. The boy liked to test her limits, especially after her older brothers went after his family for owed money. He liked to call Clara names, to tease her and harass her. He liked to throw punches, usually earning him a fair fight from the young girl and bruises all round.
But, here she was, bruised, cut and utterly defeated, trying her best to hold back sobs of pain as she shuffled her way down the deserted, gravelly road. Once Clara finally reached the door of her home, she bit down her lip anxiously, trying to push back her tears. There was no room for crybabies in the Shelby household. She found herself trembling as she took a shaky breath in and slowly eased the door open.
Inside, Tommy and Pol stood to their feet, their angry eyes immediately snapping towards the little girl. Both furious faces dropped and Pol was instantly on her knees in front of the girl, her warm hands heating up Clara's numb cheeks. The young girl leant into her aunt's touch, her eyes trained on the floor below.
"Clara, what on earth happened?!" Pol exclaimed, taking in the girl's battered state.
"I f-fell." Clara stammered, her tiny voice echoing against the quietness of the room.
"We both know that's a lie," Tommy spoke up, lowering his voice as he bent down beside her Aunt. "Now, c'mon, Clara girl, tell us who did this."
The girl's lip trembled, glancing between her aunt and brother before she rushed forward, latching onto Tommy. She buried her head into his shoulder, her tears of vexation and pain now freely flowing as she cried. His arms were quick to engulf her as he lifted her up, pushing aside his shock, as he allowed himself to comfort his weeping sister.
"It's okay," he hushed, rubbing her back as she wailed. "C'mon, atta girl." Clara sniffled and furiously wiped away her tears. She was being silly. She didn't cry. Only babies cried. Tommy gently placed her down onto a chair, crouching in front of her as she avoided his gaze.
