The streets of Birmingham were gray, cloaked in a thick fog that clung to everything. You walked aimlessly, wrapped tightly in your coat, your head low and your heart even heavier. It had only been a few days since you left him, but every minute without him felt like an eternity. It wasn’t an easy decision, but you knew you couldn’t stay. Not with everything that surrounded him. Not with the Peaky Blinders.

And then you saw him.

In the distance, walking steadily with his brothers, emerging like a shadow through the smoke. Thomas Shelby. His figure was unmistakable. Tall, sharp, with that gaze that could cut through steel. Arthur was to his right, John a few steps behind. The caps, the long coats, the air of tension that always followed them. But your eyes only saw him.

He stopped when he saw you. So did his brothers. For a moment, time froze.

Thomas walked toward you slowly. The world around you vanished.

When he was close enough, he held your gaze with those blue eyes you knew better than your own. And then he spoke, his voice low, steady, but something broken hid behind the calm “I thought you were in London,” he said