Irina was unwillingly sat in Thomas Shelby's front room, a glass of whiskey in front of her that stay untouched as she stared at the walls, enormous feelings that she couldn't depict were carving away at her mind.

Alfie was sat beside her, his glass almost empty. There had been a piercing silence lingering in the air since his screaming stopped once the bullet shrapnel had finally been pulled from his arm, the wound bandaged up tightly.

Thomas and Arthur had disappeared into another room not long before, taking a group of other men with them to discuss matters that Irina didn't want to hear. She'd been quickly taken away from the scene of Luca's death, Tommy ushering her in silence back to his home. He'd tried to speak to her, making numerous attempts to tell him that Luca's death was inevitable, but Irina's lips stayed firmly sealed.

Alfie joined Irina in the living room once he had been patched up, pouring both of them a glass of whiskey and keeping the bottle close to him for good measure.

They sat together for a while, Alfie watching Irina do much of nothing, her face seeming as though it had been frozen in time, a hysterically calm, placid expression that looked not too dissimilar to the way she looked normally, though he knew her thoughts were much darker than before.

"Irina can you just sa-"

"Did you know?" She interrupted him, shifting her eyes for the first time in what felt like an eternity for Alfie.

"Did I know?" Alfie cleared his throat, shocked Irina had finally spoken, "Did I fuck know."

She let out a sigh and looked away from him. Alfie knew she was putting on a brave face, as much as it was hurting her inside. He'd realised that despite the front she had, the ego that cracked the pavement beneath her feet with every step she took, she'd fallen victim to her own heart, something she'd never intended to do.

Alfie didn't like seeing her in that state, much preferring her sharp tongue and mysterious eyes, her words teasing him and enticing him without her even trying. The version of Irina sat beside him in that moment wasn't the version Irina had spent years building.

"You're the," she hissed through pursed lips, debating whether to go on, "You're the only thing I had that's even remotely close to a friend. How could you keep something like that from me? How could you let me carry on selling my vodka to him, let him take me out to fancy restaurants, let him fuck me?"

Alfie winced at the last statement, turning his head away from her burning stare, her fists balled at her sides.

"I said, I didn't fucking know, alright?" He rose to his feet, anger wrapped around his words, "I never liked the bloke and I told you he was no good, but I didn't know he had other intentions. He looked at you like..."

Alfie trailed off, resting his arm on the mantelpiece, pursing his lips in thought. Irina jumped up and walked over to him, standing beneath him and forcing him to lock eyes with her.

"He looked at me like what?" She said quietly.

"Like any man would look at you." He grumbled, finishing the rest of his drink and pushing past her small frame to grab the bottle by the foot of the chair.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Irina continued, following him around the room like a child with a ruffled temper.

"It means," Alfie mocked, looking down at her with narrowed eyes, "He looked at you like he wanted to fuck you, take everything you had, and throw you to the wolves as soon as he was done. That's what men are like, Irina, especially ones like him. Good fuckin' riddance if you ask me."

Irina's jaw would've dropped at the way Alfie was speaking to her if she hadn't been so angry to keep it clenched. Her blood was boiling as he continued to drink whiskey like it was water, and like both of them hadn't narrowly escaped death not two hours earlier. Irina was hurting, but Alfie's words weren't easing any of the pain like she hoped they would.

"And you? Is that how you look at me too?"

Alfie scoffed, shaking his head.

"What? You're going to tell me you're different? Like you're any better than Luca?"

Alfie spun round on his heels, pressing his forehead against hers and pointing a finger in her face, his eyes seeming black with his large shadow looming over both of them. Irina froze, feeling his breath on her face and smelling his aftershave mixed with the alcohol soaked bandage on his arm.

"I'm nothing like him, you understand? A thank-you for saving your life wouldn't go a miss, either."

Huffing, Irina rolled her eyes as Alfie walked away from her. She was tired and frustrated, the sadness she felt from Luca's death was deep enough the drag the energy from her bones, but the anger from learning his true intentions had boosted her adrenaline levels for the rest of the day, keeping her on her feet.

She grabbed her coat and her bag and headed for the front door.

"Where are you going now?" Alfie groaned and walked over to the door, slamming his hand against it to pin it closed as she stood with her hand on the brass doorknob, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Home?" She said, her tone raised.

Alfie tilted his head, his expression patronising, "Sit the fuck down, you ain't going anywhere. I bet you didn't sleep last night and you haven't eaten anything all day, think I'm going to let you get on a train back down to London and collapse before you've even made it past Coventry? I'll drive you home myself in the morning."

Irina stayed quiet, taking up residence on the sofa again, her hands in her lap. She didn't feel threatened by Alfie's authority, in fact she found it strange that she was even listening to a word he said, let alone following his orders. His tone was harsh but his words, however, were caring.

"You followed me up here, didn't you? Why?"

Alfie sniffed and sat down beside her, topping up his glass again.

"Because I thought you'd do something fucking stupid, and I was right, you did."

"Why do you care so much, Alfie?"

He didn't want to answer her question, in fact, even hearing it was uncomfortable. There was something different about Irina that he'd noticed since he first laid eyes on her. He wasn't sure whether it was the way she said so much with her eyes, without saying a single word, or the way she charmed him with holding her champagne flute so delicately, walking without worrying about people in her way. She was unlike anybody Alfie had ever met, but he'd had to compress the urge to discover more about her. He took what was offered to him, a friend in need, and told himself that if all Irina was meant to be to him was simply that, then he would accept it.

"Because you're just like me," he said, shifting in his seat, "Alone. I know you might not like to admit it, but you needed my help, didn't you? Be dead now if it wasn't for me."

Alfie chuckled lightly as he swirled around the whiskey in his glass. Irina watched him closely, noticing the way he distracted himself with other things when conversation became too intense for him to bare eye contact.

He intrigued her, an intimidatingly large man with a dark exterior but an interior that shone brighter than any light, a kind heart for the right people. Irina still wasn't sure why Alfie had offered his kindness to her, refusing to accept her vulnerability as his answer, but it was a nice thought.

She swallowed her pride, reaching out and placing her hand on top of his own that rest on his thigh. Her touch pulled his gaze up from his drink, his eyes wide and doe-like, pained with an innocence Irina had never seen in them before.

"Thank you, Alfie."

Her hardened shell softened gently, a warm smile on her lips and her eyes like honey, reminding Alfie of home when he looked at her. His body froze at her touch initially, but he soon felt the warmth in his blood seeping through his body slowly, drawing a smile to match hers.

Although her words were scarce, Alfie knew she was thanking him for much more than taking a bullet for her.

an;;
a lil bit of irina - alfie content!! I'm aware it's still quite slow but things will pick up between them as the story progresses!!