CHAPTER EIGHT.

               FELICITY WOODS DIDN'T KNOW what she was doing and in all fairness, she didn't want to find out.

All she wanted to do was get on with her day, away from the likes of Thomas Shelby yet not in the same manner of ignoring him completely as she had done for the past few days. Felicity had no intention of setting anything right: not for the time being. Despite Polly Gray's words in the church having hit home in the girl, she still couldn't find the energy in herself to go as far as to actually bother conversing with the man in the same manner as they had done before the races.

Or rather: Felicity wasn't ready for how unpredictable he might be. Whether he'd actually take it upon himself to apologise for something that wasn't even his fault - how should he know that her father would be there? - or whether he would even remember it, and go on as normal.

Felicity didn't have the energy for either of the conversations that would emerge from either of those situations.

And so as the girl unlocked the door to the Garrison, she was hardly expecting for the day to be remarkable in any sort of way. All she did was hang her coat on the back of the small backroom's door, pull her hair back so that it was out of her eyes, and went on with her day with the hopes that it would be just as unremarkable as she was expecting it to be.

That is, until Thomas walked through the doors with raindrops dripping from his cap and his overcoat dark from the weather outside. He approached the girl with an emotionless expression.

"Can I get a drink?"

The girl nodded, matching his lack of expression. "Whiskey?"

"Please."

She grabbed the bottle from the cupboard, held it out towards him to which he took it from her grasp roughly, before making his way over to the private booth. Felicity breathed out a sigh of slight relief, turning back so that she could lean against the bar in the hopes of having just a moment to herself.

Later, Grace had taken it upon herself to force Felicity to go home early, claiming that she could handle the pub on her own back for once. The blonde had tried to refuse by arguing that there was no reason for her to leave her alone, but her friend had been firm. She hadn't let Felicity's profuse refusals get to her and so that was why Felicity found herself grumbling sulkily as she pulled her coat over her shoulders and pushed open the door to the cold streets of Small Heath.

"Go!" Grace had demanded, taking the girl's coat from where it hung on the hook and holding it out to her.

Felicity had only shaken her head. "I'm fine," she insisted, "Look! I'm not even tired, see."

The yawn that had taken over her features argued against that, and so Grace looked at her disapprovingly. "Go home and sleep," she continued firmly.

Felicity tried to argue once more but before she could, her coat was draped over her arms and she had Grace taking her shoulders and gently pushing her towards the door.

"Are you sure you'll be. . .?"

The other girl nodded. "Yes! Now go."

And so Felicity had finally obliged, and escaped out into night with the only thought in her head being how fucking cold it was.

Hardly anyone seemed to be outside at that time and Felicity begrudgingly thought to herself that they were all smarter than she was for doing so. The cold snaked through the thin fabric of her jacket, creeping upon her skin and spreading goosebumps along the way.

The clouds above her began to rumble and Felicity glanced up into the greying sky with a groan. It wasn't far to reach her home, she knew that, but she was never one to enjoy running. With a million complaints running through her mind, the girl pulled her jacket further around her body, cursed herself for wearing a dress on today of all days, and hurried along the streets in whatever half-jog she could manage without tripping over her skirt.

Apparently, Hell had it in for her during that particular week, because that was exactly what she did.

The girl found herself sprawled across the ground in a heap, with curses spilling from her lips as she pushed herself up onto the palms of her hands. Not keen to be seen in such a way, Felicity stumbled onto her feet but winced when her weight landed on her right foot. It was only twisted, she knew that, but that didn't stop her from biting the inside of her lip in order to not cry out as she took another tentative step forward.

Thomas Shelby had just come around the corner to witness the girl trip over her own feet, and had started into a run to catch up with her and ensure she was alright. Before he could reach her, though, a rusty-haired boy had darted out onto the streets with concern alighting his features and an outstretched hand already there, ready to comfort the girl.

Thomas supposed this was Jack Goldsmith, the factory boy of whom was smitten with his childhood best friend. . . not that she had any knowledge of that particular fact. Felicity was clueless when it came to reading into emotions, as Thomas was beginning to learn, because if the opposite were true, then she would have figured his own out by now.

The girl glanced up at the boy in front of her and for a moment, she didn't even register who it was as she took in the blond locks that were stained so much by grease and oil that they might as well have been auburn.

"Jack?"

He nodded with a grim smile. "You alright, Lissy?"

"I've been. . ." Felicity paused, "I've been better."

Jack took her arm and steadied her against himself. "It's about to rain, what the hell are you doing out? Any sane person would be inside," he chided as they walked forwards.

"Why do you think I fell over, hmm?" The girl frowned, turned her head towards him and raised her eyebrows.

He only shrugged. "You're clumsy."

"And you're a smug prick," she returned.

The two conversed with tense, forced small-talk as they made their way back to Felicity's home. With the inky darkness above them only continuing to cloud over and obscure the moon from sight, Thomas Shelby watched with tired eyes as the girl continued down the road in the arms of her best friend, before walking down the road himself and coming up to the door of the Shelby home.

He wasn't interested in the slightest by the girl - not at all.

Because if there was one thing that Thomas Shelby thought wouldn't bow down to, it was love.

Love ends with broken hearts, tear-stained cheeks and empty promises. 

⎯

              Just days later, she found herself at the door to the Shelby residence.

Felicity didn't know why. . . not exactly. All she knew was that she was in search of company and considering it had been Thomas Shelby who had dragged her into his horrid business by declaring that he needed her, she had finally decided to muster up her courage and energy to converse with him properly again, so that she could find out what on earth he wanted.

It was as she was just bringing her hand up to knock on the door of the Shelby home that she caught sight of a man exiting the house across the road from her. It had always alarmed Felicity how the Woods residence was directly across from the Shelby's. . . it was almost as though they wanted someone to spark a war between the families.

"Come on, open the door," she hissed under her breath, still looking at the man across the street from the corner of her eye and praying with all of her might that he didn't notice her.

After what felt like an age, the door swung open to reveal the face of John Shelby, who's expression merged from hostility to confusion in a short matter of seconds. He had his jacket shrugged off and draped over a chair somewhere, and so his sleeves had been rolled up past his elbows hastily.

"Felicity?" He queried, "What. . . what are you doing here?"

"Can I come inside?" The blonde only replied pleadingly.

Her gaze flicked back to the other man before coming back to land on John, who's face was slowly beginning to dawn with a confused sense realisation, and so he stepped to the side and opened the door wider, allowing her through.

"Are you okay?" John asked, rubbing a hand over his face with a concerned frown.

"Me?" Felicity asked, still feeling on-edge, "Never better. Why?"

"That's clearly a lie," the Shelby brother's frown only deepened. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

The girl shook her head profusely. "I'm fine!" She insisted, wondering to herself why everyone around her was insisting on challenging her claims to feeling alright. Felicity glanced around the room, taking in the darkness and sense of claustrophobia from the narrow walls, as well as the distinct lack of people that were present.

"So long as you're sure. . . " John replied dubiously.

Felicity nodded. "I'm sure," she assured him. "Where's Thomas?"

"Next door," the man answered simply. "You need to speak with him?"

Felicity confirmed this and so John only led her through the curtains so that they were among a betting den, one that the girl hadn't expected to be there, if she was to be completely truthful. Thomas stood at one end with his arms folded over his chest, facing a blackboard that held a dozen or so names on its surface.

"Tommy," John called, breaking away from Felicity and tapping his brother's shoulder so that he turned around and caught sight of the Woods girl.

His cerulean irises widened ever so slightly. "What are you doing here?" Thomas asked lowly, uncrossing his arms so that they fell by his side.

Felicity refrained from merely shrugging. "To talk," she answered. Before the man could inquire as to what she wanted to talk about, she continued. ". . . about whatever godforsaken plan you've come up with that you so bluntly said 'needed' my presence."

Thomas knitted his dark eyebrows together with a frown. "So I suppose you are talking to me again?" He avoided her questions by firing his own back at her.

"Who said I stopped? I spoke to you last night."

"To ask which what drink I'd like," he snapped. "Don't play dumb."

Before Felicity could argue as to why she might have been ignoring him, footsteps were heard behind her and Polly Gray emerged through the curtains, a grim expression upon her face and a hard scowl that was present in her lips as well as reaching up to her angry hazelnut eyes.

"This had better be important, Thomas Shelby," the older woman spat, before catching sight of the girl who stood in front of him with her arms folded across her chest and her unusually stormy hazel eyes frowning up at the second eldest brother of the family.

"It is, Poll," Thomas dismissed her anger with an impatient wave of his hand as he turned his attention back to the girl, "Felicity, are you staying or going?"

Felicity glanced from Polly and then to Thomas. "What's going on?"

"Family meeting," he answered shortly.

"I'm not family."

"No," Thomas retorted, and it was clear that he seemed to be losing even more of his patience, "but considering you wanted to be a part of this organisation, you might as well listen to whatever 'godforsaken' plan I'm announcing." The man gritted his teeth together as he mocked her earlier words.

Felicity only pulled a face childishly in return. "Alright then."

The girl moved away so that she was at the side of the room and soon enough, the rest of the Shelby family gathered inside. Or rather: Arthur breezed through the door with an aura of exhaustion, whilst John re-emerged from where he had escaped back to the parlour. Felicity watched them all with interested - yet slightly on-edge - eyes, despite the fact that she had met each of them before and had no real reason for hostilities.

Thomas didn't wait for anyone and so he simply launched into what he had to say by stating how he had plans to move up in the world of business and become a legitimate businessman. . . a phrase she had heard uttered from his lips too many times beforehand, at the races, when he tried to justify his actions to her with the poorest of excuses.

No one uttered a word until he had finished. For a moment, the room was filled with silence.

Until Polly unclenched her jaw, raked a hand through her hair and opened her mouth to speak. "You're a fucking fool for thinking you can take on both Billy Kimber and John Woods," she declared.

Felicity raised her eyebrows at this: shocked to learn that the family were so doubtful that they could go against her father. She awaited Thomas' reply, wondering whether his family's clear doubts would ring truth in his ears.

The man's face remained unchanging as he replied to his aunt. "Billy Kimber," he began, "is losing his control. Everyone can see it. As for John Woods. . . there isn't any good reason as to why we shouldn't take him on as well."

"No good reason?" Polly spat in outrage, appalled by how her nephew's infamous lack of fear that seemed to have reached its peak. "You'd get yourself killed for even attempting to take him on!"

"That's why we've got Felicity here."

At this, the blonde raised her head and shot the man a withering glare. "Oh, sure, offer me as bait, why don't you?"

Thomas let out an exasperated, impatient sigh that was bordering on wary anger. "You wouldn't be bait," he returned calmly.

"Then what would I be? A bargaining chip? A shield, to protect your neck from the chopping block? Go on, Thomas, what's my big part in this oh-so-grand plan of yours?"

All eyes turned from the girl, with her fiery eyes and grimly-set jaw, to the man who held her gaze. The silence was deafening and Felicity bit her tongue as she wait for the man to bite back in his annoyingly-calm manner that had a tendency to be filled with silent warning.

"We're going to get your father's blessing," Thomas said after the prolonged, tense pause, "and you aren't going to have a word to say about it."

⎯

               "BLESSING?" Felicity shrieked for what felt like the millionth time that evening.

Thomas held her gaze curtly. "Keep saying it, I'm sure that'll make it lose its meaning."

The blonde girl made a guttural sound of angry outrage as she clenched and unclenched her fists, her nails digging into the palm of her hand as she did so. "You've lost your mind, Thomas Shelby," she growled. "After however many fucking years, you've finally lost it completely."

The rest of the family had left the betting den over an hour ago, to which Felicity suspected was to allow her some time to attempt to rip off Thomas Shelby's head in the red haze of her anger. Now, she was alone with nothing but that very man himself, and he seemed to be offering no better explanation

He only raised an eyebrow at her anger.

"Did it never occur to you to mention any of this to me?" Felicity continued angrily. "Any of it? Ever? Were you just planning on dropping it on me like you did, or was that more of a spur-of-the-moment type of thing?"

Thomas shot her a look that the girl couldn't be bothered to read into. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled a cigarette from

"You can't force something like this on me!" The girl refused to try and simmer down her anger, "I don't know if you've heard of forced marriages, Thomas, but this is a prime example of a very fucked up one. "

"It's not a forced marriage, Felicity," the man said calmly.

"What the fuck is your definition of a forced marriage then? Or is it just because Thomas Shelby came up with this awe-inspiring idea that it doesn't make it morally fucked-up?"

"Felicity. . ."

The girl shot him a fierce glare. "I don't know how this is going to fix your little spat with my father," she told the man. "And, Hell, I don't even get a choice in the matter, not according to you."

"Felicity, stop."

"What?"

"Stop," Thomas repeated, "it isn't a forced marriage. It's a show. It's all a fucking lie."

"What. . . what the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'll explain it all in the morning," he said, his voice suddenly aching with exhaustion as he straightened.

Felicity stood up with anger re-entering her vision. "Explain it right fucking now, Thomas Shelby, or I swear I'll leave this city and your entire plan will go to shit."

"You'd do no such thing and you know it."

The girl pursed her lips together. "How willing are you to test that theory?"

Thomas let out an exasperated sigh. "We'll go see John Woods on Thursday," he eventually told her after he unclenched his jaw in clear annoyance at her stubbornness. "Ask for his blessing, see if he gives it. If he does, we'll work something out. If he doesn't. . . it's off."

"Our marriage or your idiotic plan?"

"The marriage was never on. It's a ploy, Felicity, to see how far he'd go," Thomas explained warily. "To see how far you'd go."

At this, the girl's anger and annoyance boiled over and stalked out of the house without another word, ignoring his calls for her to come back.

She didn't even notice the man standing across the road from her.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

hmmm i feel very very very weird
about this chapter because it's
lowkey badly written but it's taken
me ages to write this much so here
we are anyway. opinions so far?
lmao sorry for this, i have ideas
and this is what happens when i
convince myself to just gO wiTh
tHe fLoW. hope you enjoyed, i
love you all so much!!!