Letters // [thomas shelby / peaky blinders]

1,019

"His letter was shit." Polly says, walking into the Garrison.

"Who's?" I ask, wiping glasses.

"Thomas', obviously." She sits. "He's not compassionate."

"He's not seen us. You know that we're his soft spots. He'll show that he missed us when he gets back. That's what I have to remind myself. That his words aren't spoken. He doesn't know how we'll read them, and we don't know how he'll read ours."

"That's smart."

"That's how I fixed myself." I say and walk into the back, ready to start lugging a new barrel towards the bar.

-

I lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling.

This is how most of my nights are spent, at this point.

I go under my bed and pick up my heavy box of letters from Thomas and pluck one from the bottom. One of the first ones.

"Georgia,

This is my second letter in two days.

I realized the first one might not have been what you wanted to hear, but I don't want to make you worried with the details of war. I don't want you more worried for me than you already are. And I know you are, my dear.

Think of me only as the smiling man that you remember, and I will think of you whenever I can, which is practically always.

Send me a photograph soon, will you? I need it for luck.

Love you,

Tommy"

That bloody photograph. I'm sure I look like an entirely different person now.

I put that letter back and pull out another one, one that's still towards the beginning, but sandwiched in.

"Georgia,

Polly told me you were feeling blue, so I thought I'd send you something blue that you've always loved. (look at the other paper now).

I hope you like what I forced Arthur to draw.

And I'm sure now you're thinking 'What the fuck? Arthur can draw?' And yes he can. He used to only draw horses, but now he can also draw eyes.

I know that it's hard that I'm away, but whenever you're upset I'm the one that knows how to make you feel better. A fucking drawing of my eyes. And I want you to look at that drawing and say in that shitty impression of me that you do that you're not going to throw yourself a pity party anymore and then repeat it back like we're talking. You're going to be that amazing woman that I fell in love with. You're going to be Georgia fucking Napoleone, as Arthur says.

I love you endlessly, and I never want you to forget it, my dear.

Tommy."

The one from when Arthur drew his eyes. I look over at the drawing that I've tacked up on my wall and sigh.

"Miss you, my Tommy." I whisper.