𝔹𝕠𝕣𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕃𝕠𝕤𝕖 | Tommy Shelby

𝕏𝕏𝕀𝕀𝕀. sɪxᴘᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɪɴ

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to post a new chapter. July and August have been hell for me. Now that things are getting better, I won't take so long to update again. I hope you like the chapter and thanks for your support and patience 🌹

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July 13th, 1931.

Beyond the events I will recount in this entry, it feels particularly good to resume my journal writing after so many days.

I wish I could say that my absence has been due to my new job taking up a lot of my time and energy, and while this is true, it's not the main reason for my absence.

Working for Millie Lawson is not easy, and by that I don't mean that the woman is a bad boss, but on the contrary, she is so good to me that sometimes I feel I owe her something.

In the week I've been working at her bookstore, Millie has adopted a maternal posture towards me and is always on top of what I'm doing, explaining every detail and letting me know the latest gossip in town. It's not that I abhor her behavior, but my mood is not able to keep up with hers, and the distraction I sometimes suffer has caused me to make mistakes that can be detrimental to her business.

I suffer from an enormous sadness and that's why I couldn't write until today. Since I resigned from the Company, I catch myself absorbed in my thoughts and it is only when I perceive a slight tingling on my face that I discover that I'm crying.

These thirteen days without seeing Thomas let me know at what level my soul is capable of missing him, and I don't say this only for the carnal: I missed his voice, I missed his eyes, even when they are not looking at me; even when they are behind his glasses. I missed the smell of tobacco flooding the office and mingling with his cologne. I missed his silence when he spends hours locked in his office. I missed the way he made me feel human, so complementary to him that I felt necessary.

To be honest, it made me uneasy to know he had so easily accepted my resignation and my distance, even though the fact he forgot about me was the best thing for both of us.

That's why I was so upset that today, after so many days, he decided to show up.

I was putting some books on the higher shelves at the back of the shop while Millie, from the attic that served as storage, was suggesting to me which works to put in the storefront. I must confess that, although I responded with a strong affirmative to everything she said, I wasn't really listening to her.

I climbed a ladder to reach the top of the shelf, and then the bell on the door rang. I was on my back and at a considerable height, which meant that if I turned around I was likely to fall to the floor. Cursing inwardly, I hurried to put all the books in their proper places to attend to the unwelcome customer, and it was while I was putting away the last one that Millie poked her head out of the attic hatch. I saw her pale and arch those eyebrows that she used to draw with black eyeliner.

"Mr. Shelby!"

I thought nothing of it and turned, and under the ladder I saw Thomas with his cap in his hands and his eyes fixed on me. My ankles trembled from the suddenness of my movement on the narrow wooden step, and suddenly I felt myself fall.

Thomas reached out his arms and tried to break my fall but he only made things worse. In half a second, the two of us were falling together and Thomas, on his back, hit a small bookshelf that went backwards, scattering all the books and causing an unbearable noise.