You were far too soft for any Peaky Blinders business, even the easier work that was hardly considered dangerous, but the idea of you being involved at all made Thomas uneasy, as much as he hated to admit it.

He had known you for many years, and he was amazed at how you had kept your gentleness about you when so much of that purity in the world seemed lost, maybe the war just had made him a pessimist.

Thomas and your brother had been friends before, both sent into war together, only one of them returned. The war had left Thomas a different man, he wasn't the sweet boy you would come to when your brother was being mean, or who would chase you with bugs, but he was still the man who held you the night he came back while you mourned the last of your family.

Nobody said anything when he bought you a home in safer neighborhood, paying off all of your needs, sending money each week with more than enough for needs as well as for anything you may want. The two of you never even spoke about it, he'd always shut you down when you tried to mention it.

Ever since he was a boy, he wanted to provide for you— this was the only way he knew to do so now, when he couldn't provide your emotional needs, he would take care of you financially, so you would never need to worry or wear yourself too thin like he knew you would.

It was also nearly impossible to get rid of you, and he had tried. Not out of want, but out of necessity. There was no way that he would be willing to put you in any danger, even adjacently, he couldn't let his enemies get their hands on something as soft and gentle as you— he feared you were fragile. Too easily broken, and Thomas loved to break things, you were the only thing he refused to leave in anything but pristine condition.

It had spread among the entire Peaky Blinders, they all looked out for one another, they looked out for their friends, their families, the family of their friends, and they all knew to look after you even if you weren't an official affiliate— the Shelby brothers especially, having all known you and your brother early on.

Now, Thomas kept his eyes low on his desk, papers in his hands and glasses perched on his nose as he worked quietly, sighing as he heard the door to his home office creak open. He didn't look up at first, but he spoke up before even knowing who the interruption was.

"Thought I've said to knock, eh?" He exasperated before his head raised to see who it was that entered.