Within the Shelby manor, there was a celebration. No sign of the Changretta's lingering around to force revenge onto the Shelby family and peace had settled. Of course, with the Peaky Blinders, still intact trouble would always stir. A family where chaos only seemed to follow and trouble was constantly caused. Many of the men were drunk, a mix of the Shelby's and the Gold's. Thomas was with Lizzie and his children happily playing, Arthur with his wife and everyone else off mingling and drinking as if their was no time to waste.

Aberama had a tight grip on you. His hand wrapped firmly around yours, his rings practically digging into your skin as you're buzzed giggles filled the cold night air. It was all so sweet to him. He hated to be apart from the woman he loved so dearly, not so secretly. Everyone knew, with his hidden shares and the way he stood behind you, when other untrustworthy men lingered. His hand always inches from your waist, never touching you. Merely guiding.

It was known that the two of you were a thing, often heard sharing passionate encounters within the camps, the hotel where he was staying was often frequented by you. It's all romantic, not all of it entirely sensual. Pure love for one another.

The garden was quiet, lanterns filling the grand manor's garden and the perfect scene. As if from a romantic novel that had everyone kicking their feet. The clouds loomed, yet the stars still shone through, the sounds of the celebration could still be heard, and it wasn't an exact private spot, but the place he wanted to do this. The wind whispering gently against the two of you as his hand gently brushed from your hand and up your arm with a smile that very few women would see. A smile of true love.

"I though' now would be the best time to ask." Aberama whispered and gently moved his hand along your cheekbone and brushing a strand of your hair from your face. That beautiful face that drove him mad with every perfect feeling. "The woman you are..." he muttered.