"For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs." -1 Timothy 6:10
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Trixie had made a very profound effort to avoid Tommy since crash-landing in his apartment the Wednesday previous, but the weekend came soon enough and the races with it. She'd had no idea what she was supposed to wear to something like this, so she'd settled for the silver dress she'd purchased a few years back for her and Luca's engagement dinner. It was the nicest thing Trixie owned, and it seemed fair to assume that overdressing would be preferable to the alternative in this case.
She spent some time fussing in the mirror over her makeup, before resigning herself to the usual charcoal-lined eyes and maroon lip. Tommy's knocking found her halfway done with a slice of toast and hurrying to brush the crumbs from her skirt. Outside, he waited in an unfortunately flattering gray suit. Trixie's heart stuttered in her chest, and she wondered if, somehow, Tommy had known how she'd imagined him those nights earlier. Strong, and real, and—
"Are you going to invite me in?"
Trixie blinked at him. "What?"
Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to invite me in? Or should I wait out here?"
"Right," she said, shaking her head. "Yes, sorry. Come in."
He stepped through the doorway, surveying her apartment as if seeing it for the first time. "Nice dress," he said, voice as flat as ever. "I brought you something."
Tommy pulled the newspaper out from under his arm and offered it to Trixie. In her hands, it was inexplicably heavy—she unfolded the pages and found a pistol inside, cold to the touch. "How romantic," she remarked, running her thumb carefully along the barrel of the gun.
"You asked," he reminded her.
"Right," said Trixie. "I know."
"So..."
"I got it," she muttered, picking up the gun and taking it to the table beside her bed. "How far is Cheltenham?"
Tommy already had a cigarette out, rubbing it against his bottom lip. "An hour, maybe." Then, after a moment of consideration, he added, "An hour if you're keen on following the traffic laws."
"I take it you aren't?" Trixie surmised.
"Are you?" he returned.
"Never driven before," she replied. "Wouldn't even know what the laws are."
