TOUGH LOVE • MICHAEL GRAY FANFIC

10

Morning comes to me in a pain so unbearable, I can feel myself protest as I move. But something had awoken me, and I can't help but roll onto my stomach, rubbing my eyes. Knocks at the door continue, and even though I ignore them, I can't help but imagine Michael behind the front door. I miss him so much already. Sun peaks through my curtains, as I get up, warmth hitting my naked body.

I grab a robe and wrap it around my body before making my way the door. A quick glance in the mirror shows my hair messy, my eyes a bright hazel, lips still plump from all of that kissing last night.

I open my front door and see none other than Tommy Shelby. I hold the door open with my foot but glare at him, my body covering my house. I don't want him to come inside.

"Thomas, what are you doing here?" I ask, my voice groggy.

He's in a suit, hair pushed back. He looks handsome, eyes a cold blue.

"May I come in?" He asks, looking at my attire.

Shifting to one side, I slide to the left and allow him entry. My thighs ache, knees buckling, "Sure." I mumble before watching him enter my home. "So, what are you doing here?"

I find him seated at the dining table. Exactly where I was when Michael was bandaging me up. I look down at my hand and see that it's still wrapped up. I don't feel much pain anymore, as a matter of fact, I curl my fingers into my palm, putting my hand in a fist. And still, no pain.

"Well," He rolls his cigarette between his lips. I don't remember him even having one in his possession. "It's confirmed, Michael will kill Father Hughes."

"I know." I wrap my robe around myself, my legs beg of me to sit down. But I don't want to sit beside Thomas, no. I continue to stand, not listening to my aching body.

"Ah, so he's told you?"

"Of course he has." I scoff, why wouldn't he?

"And what do you think?" He narrows his gaze.

Do you really give a shit? Shrugging, I respond. "I told you, Hughes deserves death."

"No, not about that. About Michael being the one. He could go to jail, they could hang him." He lets the word float around the room. "Aren't you scared?"

"You lot protect each other, right?"

He doesn't respond. Eyes still locked with mine.

I sigh, "Look, if that's all you wanted to tell me, then fine, but you can go now."

"I can't go, June." He simply says.

"Why?"

"Because," He lights up the cigarette, still staring at me. "You and Michael need to end things. Now."

I roll my eyes. This man really must be delusional if he thinks for even a second that I'd bow down to him. For Christ sake, I know his family don't have any problems with having him bitch them around, but me? I almost laugh, he'll get a riot out of me before I take a bow.

"I'm being serious." He sighs out the smoke. "I need Michael's mind to not be occupied. I need him sharp. I need him quick and you-"

"I keep him sane." I snort, looking at him. "While you people fill his mind with death and murder and guns-"

"You'll only occupy his mind until finds another, that's usually how it works." He takes a moment to smoke more. Captivating me. "And then you'll be the one heartbroken."

What the hell is he going on about? No, no, he's trying to scare me out of this. I almost feel myself getting angry, the blood in me boiling. Especially as he smokes in my house, a proper dick. I tell myself to speak, commanding myself to say something, but what's the use - he comes off as this prick who won't listen to a thing I say.