Gun metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)

What a plot twist she was

I wonder how biology can explain the physical pain you feel in your chest when all you want to do is be with someone.

"Ah, shit." Thomas sighed. He was digging around in the drawers, only finding his slightly older penny collar shirts and three piece suits. After a bit more digging, he found some braces and loose trousers.
Thomas let out an undignified snort at the realisation and of what she had to wear.

He turned to her, holding the braces, loose trousers and dress shirt; a shit-eating grin on his face.
"No!" Dorothy could only gasp, "I can't wear those, Bubs!"

"I'm sorry, Bonny, it's all I've got for you." His grin only getting wider.

Dorothy huffed and snatched the clothes, trudging to the bathroom.
She scrunched her nose up at the smell that still lingered in the room.

She mumbled curses she'd heard her father say in Romani whenever she got in trouble, the words slightly escalating when she laid them down in front of her. She stopped short when she heard Bubs laughing down the corridor when she snapped a bit louder.

"Don't laugh at me! This is going to look stupid enough, as is. I don't need you laughing your arse off at my expense!" She huffed indignantly.

She only heard him sober up a bit after she had attempted to tighten the braces around her shoulders a bit more. The shirt was gargantuas on her and she felt like a pansy trying to tuck it all the way in, only giving up halfway. The trousers pooled around her ankles so she had to role them up, hoping Bubs wouldn't mind. Then the braces to help keep the trousers up, didn't even shrink enough to sit comfortably on her shoulders, so she had to hold them up as she was walking around, feeling like a mayor of an old western city in one of those cowboy movies who snapped their braces back on their chest. She felt utterly stupid.

It didn't get any better when she walked back into the bedroom and Thomas didn't react, his eyes only widening. For what? She did not know.

——

When Bonny stepped out of the the bathroom, Thomas felt his heart stop. He took in her small frame. The sight was almost comical as she desperately tried to keep the trousers up and the sleeves falling over her hands making them look like small paws.

Even though she was drowning in the fabric, he thought she looked... cute? He couldn't describe what it was. It was the equivalent to what Thomas imagined was the feeling of meeting an energetic puppy or the excitement of a child when they get handed some liquorice.

Thomas smiled, a small smile. She was cute.
It was another thing to add to the list of things she was and he wasn't.

The silence ebbed on. Thomas could only stare. She could only stare back.

Thomas' mouth twitched a bit. He broke out into boyish sniggers as she stared back unimpressed.
She put her hands on her hips, "oh yeah, laugh it up, I'm sure it's s- Oh!" Her hands flashed like a light to the trousers that were so close to falling down again, now that she'd let go of the braces.
The action only made Thomas laugh harder.

"Are you done?" She raised an eyebrow as he wiped his eyes and sobered up a but. Nodding his head as he recovered.

"Here, let me help you." He made his way towards her, Dorothy only pushed his hands away: "I've already tried that! They don't tighten anymore!"

Thomas didn't say anything as he grabbed the strap of the braces and wove the strap in on itself to make a knot on her shoulder, then doing the same with the other. Dorothy's mouth formed an 'O' shape and tapped her head.

"There we go. Much better." He patted her shoulders and stepped back, seemingly proud with his work. "Now, back to bed. I have some questions and you need to answer them."

Dorothy's stomach dropped. She knew this was coming. She'd have to talk about it eventually.
Sighing, she sat on the bed, Thomas sat in the chair next to the bed. Dorothy half missed him sitting closer, but she didn't say anything.

——

"So what's all this then? Why am I finding you in the middle of the streets, face first in the cobbles? Eh" Thomas leaned back expectantly, making sure he had full control of the situation.

Dorothy knew that keeping secrets from friends was the best way of losing a friend. But she was equally terrified that by telling Bubs the truth, that he'd bugger off and not want anything to do with her.
The guilt would have been immense, though.

"I have low blood pressure... something like that, I think." Dorothy stared down at the quilted blanket, doing the tapping thing with her hands again.

"Ok. And why couldn't you get food on the table since the last time I saw you?" He leaned forward, his eyebrows furrowed a bit.

Dorothy cringed at the bluntness of his questions, "couldn't afford it."

"But you work at the bakery, does that not source an income?" His gaze pierced into the side of her head, she refused to look at him.

"Mama needed it..." he voice even quieter now.

"Is she sick?"

Dorothy nodded her head, she pulled her lips into a tight line and squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to think about her home life.

Thomas knew this was a sensitive subject for her - hell, this whole conversation was -, he understood the feeling of watching family members fall apart and whither away right before your eyes.

"Where 'bouts do you live?"

The pause lasted longer than Thomas liked, he feared the worse, "she has a home, right?"

"Hampton Lane." Her answer was honestly worse than being homeless, in Thomas' opinion.

Hampton Lane has a wide expanse of whore houses, anyone who lived on that street were whores themselves or drunks.

Thomas' chest tightened. Before he could ask the dreaded question, she answered it quickly, "I'm not a whore though! I promise! Never done anything of the sort!" She shook her hands in front of his face, desperately pleading that he didn't think her to be like that.

"So your poor blood pressure, what does that do?" She thanked him for changing the subject.

"Makes me light headed easily n' other stuff like tha'" her voice croaked as the inner turmoil seeped out of her.

"What other stuff?"

"Tinnitus, n' that."

Thomas had heard of tinnitus. Men in the war quite often got diagnosed with it after hearing the shells go off so many times, it became white noise.

Thomas connected the dots, "s'that why you're always humming, and put records on?"

She smiled a bit at the fact he'd noticed. It was weird, but it showed that he cared.

Thomas patted his knees and stood up, checking his pocket watch, noticing how much time had passed.
"You look exhausted out of your wits, I'll leave you to sleep and then tomorrow, we can see how you look." Dorothy smiled, as he left and closed the door behind him.

As she heard him walking down the stairs, she thought of the way the warmth left the room as he trotted further away from her.

She settled down under the covers and closed her eyes, welcoming sleep as it wrapped itself around her eyes.

——

ANOTHER ONE DONE!!! It's a big step, too.

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