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floatinginwords · 3 years

Text

Saved by the Devil (15/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: More stuff after Epsom and a bit of of Tommy pov. (im sorry about these summaries im terrible)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (Romantic)

Warning: Mention of death and blood.

A/N: Not my best but yea. im getting the hang back i think? i dont know...feedback would be great. thanks for reading and hope you all have a good day and are treating yourselves well.

The drive was quiet. Neither of you two spoke and honesty you were glad for the silence. Your thoughts were loud enough as it is. Polly didn’t drive you far until she spoke or more like laughed. It sounded like a mad women’s laugh. Your stomach did flips as you could recall the laugh at your stay in the asylums from time to time. You don’t dare look at polly hoping her eyes stayed glued to the road. You didn’t want to see any glint of madness that was in her eyes. You didn’t want to ask any questions that might just pop out of your mouth. You had enough running through your mind. You had your own shit to go through.

Once you entered the city part you could see that the path polly was taking was to Adas. You didn’t want to go there.

“Polly, you can let me off here.” You say, looking at some random street corner.

She scoffs “Its getting dark and you wanna walk the rest of the way? I thought you were smarter than that.”

You don’t say anything. She continues speaking, “Just tell me where you wanna go.”

“just pull over Here, Polly.” You say.

She doesn’t say anything as she listens to your orders. She looks a bit annoyed but you don’t have to explain yourself. You leave the car and take one last look at Polly.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” You say.

She nods. “You should call Tommy when you get home. Im sure he’ll want to hear from you.”

She starts the car and leaves you by yourself. You watch the car fade in the distance. You think of Thomas wondering if he’s dead or nt. You shake your head at the thought. You cant afford to think of that right now.

You walk the route that you’ve memorized that is Trinities place. Your there in no time. As you go through alleyways, hiding in the shadows, not wanting to take any chances. You know now that your paranoia was not just something to torture you.

You run up the stairs. Ready to pound on your best friends door, take what you needed and say a quick goodbye. But her door is ajar. You take the knife off your thigh holster, kicking your shoes off incase of a getaway and walk in slowly.

The apartment is a mess. Books and glass litter the floor. Furniture is upside down. Curtain torn down. Blood stained on the walls. You gulp as the blood stains lead you to the bathroom. You follow. And your heart breaks as you see Trinity her face toward the ceiling. She looked dead with all the blood that covered her neck but her shallow breaths told you she was still holding on. You drop the knife, fall to your knees, struggling to hold the tears that you thought had already ran out today.

“…(y/n)..”trinity struggles to speak, blood splats out of her mouth.

“don’t speak. Don’t worry its gonna be alright. Its gonna be-be okay.” You looked around the bathroom, it was in such dissary you didn’t know what supplies you could use to help her. Though you knew that the amount of blood lost was too much. It would not be okay.

Trinity grabs your shirt and brings you close. You can smell the copper in her breath. “Leave. Its- its under the-the painting.” She whispers. Her grip loosens and her stare loses focus. You sob into your friends chest.

You look under the only painting that Trinity had in her apartment Its of a little ship sailing in the sea. You never understood why she liked it. You take it off its hook and find a moderate sized hole that holds the bag of contents that you had asked her to hide for you. You finally had everything. It was time to finally leave. You took one last look at your friends apartment feeling bad you couldn’t give her a proper burial. You know she didn’t have a religion. You grow resentment that no one in this apartment building helped her. You find a match in her drawer and some alcohol. You make a trail through the apartment down the stairs of the building. Not before leaving with some of her jewelry and dress. Needing something to remember trinity by. You light the match and throw it with ease. Th building lights up in flames. You could hear the screams pleasing for help. But you walk away heading toward the train station with a heavy heart.

Tommy’s P.O.V

Thomas was taken to a field. His face a mixture of boredom and anger, his soon to be killer don’t care what he feels. Hes been on the other end of this and he didn’t are what his victims felt. He thinks of your face. The way you called his name. He wonders what your doing, if you got home safe. Surely you did. His brothers, Polly, one of his many loyal employee would have sought to it. That’s all that mattered. That you weren’t here facing the type of death that he was about to.

He asks for a last cigarette. The captors allow it watching him descend into an anger that he can no longer hold in. He was about to have everything.

‘Well not everything’ he thinks of the night where he almost got to kissed you and what a missed opportunity that was. He should have gone after you told you how he felt then. But it seemed to be to late as the man pressed the gun to his temple. He will make his piece with death. I mean how could he not when for so many years, he has been the reaper for so many.

But instead of the bullet going through his skull, marking the end of Thomas Shelby’s life, he’s pushed into a grave and two shots ring off. One assassin stand while two bodies drop. He lays in the grave, confused and very alive.

The standing assassin simply says, “At some point in the near future, Mr.Churchhill will want to speak to you in person. Mr. Shelby. He has a job for you.”

For a moment he is stunned. He was so content with the thought of death merely moments ago and here he was alive in a grave meant for him. The man tells him to go. And Thomas wastes no time walking away toward a life he fully intends on enriching and keeping for a long time. Hopefully you get to be apart of it too.

Read pt.16

tags

@babylooneytoonz @captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034 @ms-dont-care @owenniasstars @shikin83 @lauren-raines-x @cactisjuice

#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #fanfic

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charmolypi · 7 years

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In search of a lost acquaintance from Japan

Gentle Reader,

This story is ten years old. I do not know why, but the pain has returned full-blown for the past 3 months. Even night I awaken from vivid dreams with the thought that I must find him, and the pain is exacerbated by its futility and absurdity.

Even if I do find him, he has probably settled down (or maybe not, considering this news from his land – 1, 2)... if he hasn't, well, he and I are not the same people as we were at that moment in time. We are probably of different religions. I have no desire to live in Japan; I went through insane lengths to secure permanent residency in Australia, and I love living here – I know I am meant to be here. It does not make sense. Yet, I am daily tormented by this urge to find him somehow, somewhere. I have laid it down in prayer, each time it disturbs me, but it still sears my heart anew.

I suppose in sharing this story, I seek most of all closure, and the knowledge that he is doing fine, and not in the exquisite pain I have been in, or some other pain! I hope it does not embarrass him for this story to be disseminated. I have kept it buried deep for a decade, a decade in which I have gone through other heartaches, and terrible things. Thankfully, I have healed from those; but now, for some reason, this old wound has burst afresh, and demands succour.

So, if you will, please share this story, that it may find him, somewhere.

[I have emailed his university, which could not help; I have looked everywhere on Facebook and LinkedIn; I have emailed the Japan Times and a couple of YouTubers, who haven't replied, probably thinking that I'm nuts... well, this is nuts! But then, the heart has its reasons which reason knows not, as Pascal said.]

I commit this to the care of St Raphael, Angel of Happy Meetings; St Paul Miki and companions, Martyrs of Nagasaki; Paul Nagai Takashi and Maria Moriyama Midori; and Our Lady of Akita. Also St Anthony of Padua, patron of the lost.

____

[August 2007]

I waved goodbye to Sarah as she climbed into the taxi at the curbside, then hurried up Middle Road to the nearest traffic light, and dashed across while looking back at the taxi and waving again, just in case she could see me. I wouldn't be seeing her until next year.

Then I crossed another junction, and another, and halted at the corner with Queen Street, whereupon my handphone vibrated, and I pulled it out of my jeans pocket to find that it was a message from Sarah.

As I bent my head over the small screen and began to reply, someone turned from the traffic light and walked back towards me, and he asked politely, "Which is the way to the library?"

I looked up. "There!" I said, pointing. "I'm going there too!" I added with a grin.

Then I turned my attention back to Sarah's message. However, I soon realised that he was still standing beside me. I decided that I wasn't being a very polite Singaporean guide to this foreigner.

He looked like a Japanese, but I could be wrong. Maybe he was Korean.

"Which country are you from?" I asked cautiously.

"Japan!" he smiled. I liked the way the name of his nation sounded when he said it.

I smiled inwardly with delight at my validated hypothesis, and probably, I smiled outwardly too. "Which part?" I asked curiously.

"Tokyo," he replied.

"I have a friend there too!" I said. "In university."

"Is this your first time in Singapore?" I asked.

"Yes, first time," he said. "I'm staying here for one month to study English; I came here last week, I'll be here for three more weeks. I'm staying at _____." He volunteered the information as if we weren't complete strangers who had just met. I marvelled at his trust in me and promptly forgot where he was staying.

"This is the second time I'm going to the library," he said. "But I wasn't sure of the way."

We started to cross the street. "Are you in university?" he asked.

"No, next year," I replied. I felt pleasantly surprised, because people usually think I'm in secondary school. I'm older than I look. And he had nailed it! I was supposed to be in university.

"Oh, then you are in high school," he said.

"I'm retaking A-levels," I explained.

We kept silent as we walked past the art school. I mounted the kerb, intending to overtake a slow-moving group of ladies in front of us, but I looked back at him and saw that he wasn't following, so I dropped back down beside him.

"It's hot," he observed, tugging uncomfortably at the neck of his red T-shirt.

"Yea, it's the dry season," I said. "It's summer in Japan, right?"

"Yes," he said. Then he added, "The temperature is about the same."

I mulled over his observation, thinking of the tilt of the Earth's axis and all that Geography stuff.

We started to cross Victoria Street. As I walked beside him, I wondered what we looked like to other people. Did we look like... a couple? I had never been on a date before. I felt a delicious shiver of... happiness, and shyness too. Something.

And I chuckled inwardly at myself for even daring to think of what I thought could never be.

I was looking at his eyes, and they held mine, until I experienced a start of alarm when I suddenly realised that I was veering off in the wrong direction. I corrected my course, then my eyes returned to rest on his. I couldn't help it. They held an irresistible attraction. My heart was flooding with happiness. I felt like I was walking on air.

And he had a knowing look in his eyes, which laughed back at mine.

As we climbed the steps to the driveway of the library, he said, "I tried to borrow a book, but they said I couldn't, because they said I had to stay here for three months, and I'm staying for only one month."

I immediately thought of my library card, snugly tucked into my wallet behind my IC (identity card), just waiting to be used. But I pushed the thought aside. How could I trust a stranger? Maybe later..

We walked over the pink and white pattern of crosses, that stood out from the rest of the tiles, which were sombre greys and blacks. "This," I said, pointing, "is the floor from the old library." He made no response. "The old library, yeap," I finished lamely, glancing in embarrassment away to my left.

"Have you been to other countries?" I inquired, cautiously again -- instead of saying, what other countries have you been to?

"Oh, yes!" he said. "I've been to England and Spain. I hitchhiked in England."

I felt my eyes brighten with admiration, and maybe something more, and he smiled.

"Have you been to Japan?" he asked.

"No," I said. "But my mother has!" I added, looking into his eyes and experiencing a sensation of pure bliss.

We arrived at the door to the library. Will he hold it open for me? I wondered lightly.

He pulled it open, then waited for a group of people to come through; then I followed him in. I was standing behind him so he couldn't let me through first.

We reached the lift lobby.

As we waited for our turn to enter the elevator, he turned to me and asked hopefully: "So... what do you do besides studying... do you... watch movies?"

My first reaction was, easy question, of course I watch movies! Which teenager around here doesn't?! And my first impulse was to say, Yes!

Furthermore, I was glad that he felt comfortable enough to ask such a question.

Tell the truth, a voice in my head prodded.

But I held back. I thought, if he wants me to go out with him, why doesn't he just say so directly? In swift succession in my mind's eye, I saw - firstly, three weeks of great fun going out with him; secondly, the amount of covering-up I would have to do, because my mother wouldn't allow me to go out, with A-levels approaching in two and a half months; thirdly, him returning home in just three weeks, and my heart breaking and me failing my exams because I couldn't concentrate with the heartbreak; and fourthly, him telling his friends how easy it was to pick up a Singaporean girl.

Don't ask me to watch a movie with you if you're only staying three weeks, I thought angrily. Why should I give my heart to someone who can only be with me for three weeks? You live so far away!

And I looked at him sharply, and said stiffly, "I... go on the computer."

And I knew that my grammar was wrong when I said it, and I was miffed about that. And I looked away, for I felt that he knew -- I was lying. It was a half truth, but as the Yiddish proverb goes: a half truth is a whole lie. And I was disappointed with myself for lying, and irritated that I had just effectively told him that I had no social life, even though I did, and I was -- sad. Because deep down inside I really wanted to be able to say, Yes!

I mentally added, and rock-climbing, but I didn't say it, because it had been quite awhile since I'd had the chance to rock-climb. More than 2 years, to be exact. Anne and I would have gone this year if the centre hadn't closed down for relocation.

We entered the lift, I pressed the button for level 5, and I returned my attention to my handphone, which I had been carrying in my left hand all the way from the corner between Queen St. and Middle Rd., with the half-completed message to Sarah. I ignored him. Sent him all the way to Coventry, I did. Silent treatment. Bleh.

I thought about the movie The Holiday, and how meeting on that street corner was our "meet cute." But the characters in the movie didn't have A-levels and all that to contend with, I thought ruefully.

The doors opened and we emerged from the elevator together, and I walked to his right this time, instead of his left. We were silent. I noticed his red sports bag, and his red shoes.

As we neared the study lounge, I asked, "What are you studying for English this afternoon?"

"Why am I studying English?" he asked in return, with a laugh in his eyes.

I shook my head. "No, what. What?" I said abruptly, with impatience.

"Oh, grammar," he said, and I liked the way he pronounced the word grammar.

We entered the study lounge and walked to the first table. Then he turned to me and said, "I'll... go and study now. Thanks," he added, perhaps because I looked surprised. I had thought we were going to study together, which was why I had asked about what he was studying. I mean, if you make a friend, why not enjoy the company? But since he wanted it that way...

I assented wordlessly, and walked away... but I saw at a glance that there were no seats left. I walked almost all the way to the back of the room just to make sure, and there really weren't any.

I turned back and saw that my acquaintance had stopped just beyond the potted plants at the first table. He had comprehended the seating situation too.

I felt embarrassed at there being no seats left for him, after I had brought him all the way up here. What must he be thinking?

I marched to the door with my usual brisk pace and held it open.

"Oh! Thanks," he said shyly, and hurried to the door so I wouldn't have to stand there for so long. And I felt bad for making him hurry.

And I felt happy when he rejoined me.

This is your second chance, said the voice in my head.

As we walked back out, a girl sitting at the foot of a pillar glanced curiously up at us. I felt a frown cloud my brow. Why did people have to look? So nice to see meh?

We got past her and I kept silent for a moment longer, but I couldn't wait until we got out of her hearing, because the silence was becoming uncomfortably long and I was bursting to ask a question, so I turned to my friend, who was walking on my right side again, and asked, "What's your name?"

"Yu," he said, and at the puzzled look on my face, he added: "Y-U."

I hastened to reply, to mask my confusion. "I'm Jean," I said, "J-E-A-N."

"J-E-A-N," he repeated after me, like he was learning a lesson. "Jean."

"Yea," I said, and I smiled.

I thought about the Inuit belief that you mustn't tell someone else your name (a third party has to do it for you), because to tell someone your name is to give the person your soul.

We reached the point where you would have to choose between the escalators or the elevators. Somehow, I felt like he wanted to take the escalators, even though I thought that taking the lift would be better because it was faster; so I bent my steps in that direction, and he followed suit.

"The study lounge is crowded, because exams are coming," I explained. I felt like I ought to explain.

"But, it's a Friday," he remarked.

"But, exams are in three weeks," I said, pulling a random number out of the air. I wasn't sure when prelims were exactly, after being away from school for so long. Later, I found that prelims were actually in one week.

As we got onto the escalator, he said, "I'm in university."

"Which one?" I asked, thinking of my friend Momoko in Tokyo.

"Keio," he said. I looked blank. "It's a private university," he tried to explain.

How was I to know that it was the oldest university in Japan, and the rival of Momoko's?

I had forgotten the name of Momoko's university. "My friend is in... the university which closed for one week because of measles," I said, trying to draw connections. He didn't respond to that.

But he said, slowly, and looking away from me, "I'm eighteen. I graduated from high school last year."

"Oh!" I said loudly in surprise, looking at him. I hadn't thought about his age, but I hadn't thought we were exactly the same age! "Me, too!" I cried joyfully, with a little bounce. "But I'm retaking A-levels," I continued heavily, "because... my results... weren't good enough." I looked away to my left again, wondering to myself why I was telling an almost-stranger about my failure.

He didn't respond.

So I asked, "This is your second time here?"

"Yes, second time," he said. "But I wasn't sure of the way."

I wanted to get to know him better, so I asked about his family.

I thought to myself, would he know the word "sibling?"

I decided to test him. "Do you have any siblings?"

He looked perturbed. "What?"

"Brother or sister," I elucidated.

As I said that, I thought, if he has one older sister... that would be cool! Just like me with one older brother!

"Yes, I have one sister," he said. "She is working."

I was elated within me at this confirmation of my wild guess.

"I have one brother," I rejoined. "He's in England."

"England?" Yu repeated with interest and emphasis, glancing sideways at me.

"Yea," I said.

"He's working there?" Yu asked.

"No," I explained, shaking my head. "He's... doing his Masters." I felt my face flush slightly. Would he think that I was boasting? I did feel proud of my big brother. I continued, "Then he'll go and work in the Middle East."

We were on the last escalator.

As we descended, I felt a rush of affection for my new friend. I thought to myself, I like him! I really like him... as a friend.

I considered telling him that I liked him, but I decided not to. I didn't want to give him the wrong idea.

A small voice within me told me to ask if he had MSN Messenger, but I didn't heed it. Plenty of time for that later, I thought. I didn't want to break the companionable silence. I felt happy, just being quiet and walking with him. And I didn't feel much like talking, because I was very tired. I had slept 4.5 hours the night before, because Sarah woke me up at 4.30 a.m. with her invitation to lunch.

I half-wished that he was a girl, so that I could ask for his number, and he wouldn't misunderstand.

We walked through the entrance of the basement library.

Now I was walking on his right.

Then we reached the corner where I would turn off to the study tables. But I wasn't the one who stopped first. He did. I probably would've followed him unthinkingly to wherever he was going, if he hadn't.

"I'll... go and see... books?" Yu said hesitantly, with a slight smile creasing his face, in a way that melted my heart and broke it completely in the same instant.

The way he said it, like he needed my permission!

And -- what did he mean? Did it mean I'd never see him again?

Did it mean... he didn't want to see me again?

He was ok with never seeing me again?

He was just going to walk out of my life like that?

But I liked him! I liked him a lot! -- as a friend, that is.

We can't just be friends?

And oh! if he really liked me, why didn't he try again? why did he give up so easily? and why would he want to lose me... forever?

He didn't like me, then?

Oh, but I liked him!

And he could look at me and smile, knowing he would never see me again?

My countenance collapsed, and I could do nothing about it.

I actually felt the blood drain from my face and my lips turning pale. I never knew I could feel this much pain. I felt like I was teetering on the brink of an abyss.

I wished more than ever that he was a girl, so there wouldn't be all this mutual incomprehension and mixed messages and confounded feelings!

My heart hurt like hell, like he'd just plunged a flaming sword into it.

At that very instant, I still wasn't ready to go to a movie with him. Because I thought, I would lose him in the end. Long-distance relationships are difficult. I just wanted to be his friend.

I thought back to the scene at the lift, and at that moment, I didn't regret it... yet. Because I had meant it. I didn't want to be his summer fling.

I know it looks like I've fallen in love with you, I thought at him -- but of course, he couldn't hear my thoughts -- but I haven't, not really, but I want to be your friend!

After an entire moment of complete silence, I realised that he could read the devastation in my eyes. And somehow, I had a feeling that him knowing that I was hurt, would hurt him.

I knew he was probably feeling really confused, and I wanted to explain, but I couldn't. I had lost my power of speech. My throat had closed up.

No, no, you haven't hurt me! Or at least, I know you didn't mean to! I thought at him. He just looked startled at my expression. The smile had faded from his face. What's wrong? his expression said.

I felt that I had behaved really badly, and I had misrepresented myself entirely, and I just felt so frustrated with myself!

If you walk away now, a small voice warned, he will always look back and wonder if you might have loved him.

But... three weeks!

Suddenly it occurred to me that I was holding him up.

I tried to fix his face firmly in my memory, because I knew I would never see him again. What do you say to someone you will never see again?

With a supreme effort, I came to myself, and with a tremendous amount of willpower, I dropped my eyelids to conceal my pain, and I looked at the floor and, with herculean strength, I managed a barely audible, broken whisper. "O-K," I said, and those two softly-spoken syllables cost me more than I could bear.

I felt so wretched, that without thinking, I swivelled, and fled, at my usual brisk walk; and the abyss swallowed me up. This is wrong, I thought.

Moreover, I had had to forestall whatever he might have said next, because it had taken all of my willpower to deny my heart, and one more word from him might have broken down my resistance. I could not love someone for just 3 weeks... and I did not want to risk my heart on someone who would have to leave me, someone who belonged to somewhere so far away from my own home. My heart protested at every step, but my mind was firm. Later, my heart would punish my mind more than I ever could foresee.

Looking back, I realise that if he had even wanted to come after me, he would have had to run, because I was walking at top speed.

Walking eased the burning pain in my chest a little. Now I felt numb.

I have lost a friend, went a refrain in my head, over and over. I have lost my friend.

I'll get over it, I replied fiercely, trying to shut out the voice. I got along just fine without him before today.

I have lost a friend.

I came to the back of the room and saw what I knew I would find -- no seats.

I strode through the aisle between the tables and, making almost a complete circle around the library, I found a small corner at the end of the computing bookshelves and sequestered myself in it.

I took out my Geography exercise book and lecture notes and began to make notes about rocks. But I couldn't concentrate. As I wrote, I thought about how I liked my handwriting, how I liked the sensation of writing hard, fast and elegantly, and wished that Yu could see it, and wondered how Yu's handwriting looked -- was it like mine? And I would never know!

Then an Indian lady came along and began speaking loudly to a librarian who was shelving books.

She was trying to get a complete stranger to help her borrow a book... but she was talking to a library worker. "I cannot get my library card until tomorrow..." she rattled on in heavily-accented English, while the worker looked thoroughly confused.

Finally, she asked, "Are you borrowing those books?"

"No, I'm reshelving them," he explained.

"Oh ok, thank you," she said, and went away.

Then she came back talking rapidly in Tamil with another lady.

I didn't look up again until she resumed speaking in English. This time, her target was a Sikh.

"My cousin is having an exam tomorrow," she said, "and needs to borrow one book, but they won't give me my library card until tomorrow..."

The Sikh agreed to help her borrow the book, but on the condition that she gave him a photocopy of her IC. "I trust you," he said, "but..."

"I can give you my phone number!" she said.

"It's not good enough," he explained.

Well, they couldn't come to a compromise, so in the end she thanked him and went away, discussing with her female companion again.

I had the impulse to get up and offer her the use of my library card. Yu might see, and he would think well of me! ran my thoughts. But I thought better of it.

Now I know, I should have lent him my card. Bugger.

Then I began to read about earthquakes and tsunamis, and my thoughts kept turning to Japan... and Yu. This was ridiculous.

I couldn't focus with all the people walking by (how loud footsteps can be!), so I packed up and went walking around Bugis Junction, looking for a birthday present for Wan Ting. But nothing caught my eye except a display space with pictures of Japanese ladies. It was something about having beautiful eyes like them. And I thought of Yu. As I had walked out of the library, I had glanced at the people seated beside the bookshelves. And I saw someone in red, but I didn't, I couldn't look at him directly. And I had smiled sadly to myself, and bowed my head, and wondered if he looked at me.

I returned to my solitary corner in the library, and started to sketch the General Rock Cycle. Walking back in, the person in red was gone.

I didn't think about it then. But... could Yu have come after me? And had he thought I would leave by the same way, down Middle Road... instead of across it to Bugis Junction? I might never know now.

I couldn't stand the constant distraction of other people, so I messaged my father and he came to pick me up.

As I closed the car door, I had a strong desire to tell my father that I had left something behind, and to run all the way back downstairs and find Yu, and ask for his number. But I quelled it. Instead, as my father steered the vehicle away, I began to tell him about the Japanese guy I had met at the library.

We barrelled down the expressway. "And he hitchhiked all over England, and he's my age, and Mum wouldn't even let me take the bus home!" I said. But that wasn't what I really wanted to say.

I didn't even admit to myself what I really wanted to say.

I fell in love with Yu when I walked away from him.

Or probably before that, just that I was trying so hard not to.

~~~

Try to love souls, you will find them again. – Marius Pontmercy, Les Misérables

#regret #story #stranger #Singapore #Japan #Tokyo #Keio #Yu #missing #personal #twin flame

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