Chapter Text
"By the way, you smell of lovely floral perfume Thomas. What are you doing here in this unholy hour? We already had an agreement. 20 percent. Fucking disgrace. You want renegotiate? If you do, I'll demand 45 percent."
Tomas was sitting in the kitchen, he was holding a cup of hot tea, Alfie was kind enough to make. Great way to warm up his cold hands. Something was wrong today, like Tommy forgot to put his armour on. His face was pale and eyes didn’t glow like they always do. First time Thomas Shelby looked almost normal. After Tommy bled on his table, Alfie had a revelation. Boys with blue eyes and short cut's is his type. Thomas Shelby was his type. It's a shame really, that he is clearly a sucker for a women.
If it was anyone else, Alfie would never make them tea and invite into his home. How the hell he knew Alfies address, anyway? Again, if any of his business partners make a move like that, they would never see next sunrise. But this is a peaky boy, which came to his door steps with a broken heart. He really is stank with woman perfume and had a couple hickeys here and there. Shame. Alfie would never allow him leave at night alone. Most likely, he simply couldn't walk after the act.
"Tommy, you should say thank you to the Mother Nature. If not for your beautiful eyes, I'd kick you out on the cold streets of London. Who knows what’s doing to happen, if the Italians catch you this time?" No reaction, he’s berried deep down in his head. "You all right, Tommy? How’re you keeping?"
Turns out, Tommy listened to him and decided to answer to the only one question.
"You know, at times I hate them. My eyes. When I was just a wee lad, my father threatened me to cut them off." He didn't look at him. Eyes fixed on the small fireplace. Shadows from the fire made his face more sharp. It lit up all good parts, at moment Alfie regret that he was never good at painting. "He came closest to doing that after she committed suicide. Arthur came in time."
"One good thing he’ve done." Tommy didn't react to the joke, as if he didn't hear at all. Plunged into bad memories.
"Sometimes he told me that I had devils eyes. Or my mother’s eyes, and that I’m the reason she’s dead. Everyone around adored my eyes and chubby cheeks. I couldn’t understand, why my dad can’t look at me. Hug me like he hugged Ada and John. It was a rare occasion, but he never chose me. I ran away to the fields to hug horses and dogs. It’s funny that now I hate physical touch, hated ever since dad pushed me into the mud, when he left us for good. I tried to stop him. After that I can’t stand it."
He kept talking, like he's not seating in presence of his enemy / (ex) business partner. Does Tommy understand who is he talking to? That kind of information can kill in there business. Alfie already knew too much, why he telling him this? For some reason, Tommy opened up to him like a can of worms.
"In the army I hated small places and all my comrades with there long limbs, that always found there way to touch me. I didn’t have a choice when it got colder in the trenches. Rats or humans, not a hard choice. We all slept huddled together, some nights I wanted to cut my comrades hands and legs, because there was to close to me. There, I understood that my father also, for some reason, hated human touch. After that I tried to get used to it, through strength and endurance. When I came back home, I tried to sleep next to Finn. He was small and always wanted to be near me. I hated every second of it and hated myself for it. Started to use opium. It become normal to me; only touch I could force myself to is with the horses again."
Alfie was always the one who initiated hugs. He liked to share heat, he got enough cold on the field. He mostly hugged members of his family, he’s not the mad man who hugs his employees. Boundaries. He respected it. No use of the hug that’s not welcomed. Instead of warms you can get cold embrace. He understood Tommy, soldier to soldier. First three month home he couldn’t lay with another man. Close distance to another human body reminded him about war and his bayonet. One night he had a nightmare and accidentally knocked out teeth of young boy he met at the pub. After that he stopped all meetings. He swore to himself, that he don’t lay a finger on anybody before his head cleared out.
Tommys head still in between battlefield and home.
"Some nights I fear, that if I ever become a father, I’ll be copy of my trash dad. Absent and scary, drunk or worse. Always away and walking threat to their life. I’m scared that I'll fail people I care about. My family. All this years I put them in danger, I’m afraid that I not made to be a father. It will be better for everyone involved, to me not to have a child. Something broken inside me, forever."
"Well you don’t need to worry about that with me. No uterus, no problems." It was not the best time to make jokes-offers, but Alfie couldn’t help himself.
"Jokes aside, Tommy, where were your scary aunt, when all this happened with your dad? She doesn’t look like a type of person who beats the children."
Tom shook his head with a sad smile. Alfies first instinct was to hug a men and somehow take at least half of his pain. But that would ruin the moment of truth, and show Alfie as terrible listener. Last thing Tommy needed right now, is another human touch. He would probably jump at him for this.
"Not at the time, here children was taken, husband dead. She was grieving, her coping mechanisms not worked. She drunk a lot of red wine, and occasionally beat me with furniture. That’s why I love horses and stables, used to sleep there. Run away from beatings and cuttings."
What a terrible family, his mother and aunts were never violent towards him. He can't imagine what was it like. Alfie was in stalemate at the moment. He knew how to comfort a person with hugs and gentle strokes. Tommy was still fixated on the fire, like a witch that tries to see future. What does he see in the fire? Fascinating gypsy king. Alfie could try comfort him with a kiss, perhaps? Floral perfume almost gone and replaced with smell of fire burning. Will he burn his lips?
Alfies thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of old clock. Midnight.
Tommy awoke from the trance. Untouched tea in the cup has cooled down. He quickly started collecting his stuff. Jacket, cigarette case, lighter. Out of respect, he had a sip of the cold tea. Before Alfie could open his mouth, the receding figure muttered.
"Thank you for the tea, see you tomorrow morning."
The front door closed with a loud bang. Cyril wake up from loud noise and came wagging his tail.
"Sorry, mate. Storm came by."