CHAPTER NINETEEN.

               "LET'S GO OUT FOR the day, Lis," Tommy declared one day, turning to the girl with a strange expression upon his face. . . one of joy, of hope, one that she had begun to see more and more often since that night in the Garrison. The frequent sight of this almost―smile made her heart warm each time it appeared and so, on the days when it seemed as though it would never come, she reminded herself of the times that it did. The times that she saw Thomas Shelby for the man he so rarely showed the world he was.

Because to Felicity Woods, it was almost as though he kept that side, just for her.

"Escape somewhere. Just us. So that we can get away from here for even a day." He continued as took her hand with the smallest hint of a smile .

Unbeknown to her, it was one of apology. One that was laced with regret, with anguish, and one that held the hope that she would ― one day ― know for certain that he never had any intention of hurting her. For to hurt an angel. . . there must be a rule against that somewhere, mustn't there? He didn't know, but he certainly hoped so ― and although Thomas Shelby had not returned home from the war a particularly religious man, he had sworn to God that anyone who was to even attempt such a thing, he would make sure they would never see the light of day again, because he knew Felicity Woods did not deserve a single ounce of the hurt that was in this world.

Felicity ― as clueless as she so often was ― was sold on the idea the very moment the words 'just us' had left his lips, with the thought of her and Tommy spending the day alone without the worries and concerns of the future troubling them like they so often did.

So she agreed instantaneously, pestered him on just where they were going and only agreed to stop when he sealed her mouth closed with a brief kiss, before he exited the room to gather up coats and attempt to find an old blanket from underneath the stairs.

It was all she could do to not sigh contentedly before she too followed, her heart happy and full.

And another thing that was unknown to her. . . so was his.

⎯

                Tommy pulled the car up in a field and he wasted no time in pushing open the door and climbing out. He reached her side before she could even attempt to open the door for herself, and with an overexaggerated flourish and the trace of a smile growing even more, he helped her out of the car and into the biting wind that met them.

"If I could control the weather, I would," he said with a disappointed sigh, scowling at the trees that stood as a fence around the fields as their branches shook in the wind.

The blonde laughed as her curls whipped about her. "It's fine, Tommy," she reassured, trying in vain to press down her the flyaway hairs before giving in with a huff and resorting to trying to bundle it into bun at the nape of her neck. . . yet another failed attempt, but an attempt nonetheless, and one that made the man before her cough back his amusement.

He pursed his lips together, not believing her. "Come on," Tommy responded instead, reaching into the car once more and scooping up a basket that she had blindly not realised to be there.

It wasn't long before their hands instinctively reached for one another and they fell into harmonised steps beside each other. He led her through a gate and the field before it was empty of everything, much to her elation. Peace. The roar of the city was below them and although the drive away from the streets of Small Heath had lasted barely half an hour, it was as though the smoke and dust that consumed each alleyway was far behind them, miles away from the field of which they now resided in once Tommy had awkwardly tried to spread the blanket upon the grass.

Felicity laughed as she took it from his hands. "Let me." 

So he did, reluctantly, and Felicity suspected with amusement that the man hardly enjoyed being bettered at anything, let alone unfolding a rough piece of crumpled fabric. Within a minute, she had the blanket upon the grass and had taken the basket from his grasp as well, sitting down with a heavy thump and an exclamation of surprise as the dew still soaked her legs. 

"Are you planning on standing there all day?" Felicity asked in a pointed, bemused manner, shielding her eyes from the sun as she glared up at him.

Tommy responded simply by joining her on the grass and settling back so that he could tug gently on her arm, pulling her into his embrace. And so, falling against his chest, his heartbeat echoed through her steadily. She found it to be reassuring ― as though, so long as he had life in his veins and was holding her close, all would be alright in the world.

With the sky being surprisingly light and the weak, early spring sun casting their shadows onto the dewdrop-covered blades of grass, Felicity could not help but think that the day was turning out to be perfect. No noise, no stress, no nothing. Not a single thought about the previous weeks ― or even the upcoming ones, for that matter ― crossed her mind, and for that she was glad.

"I really wish these moments could last forever, Tommy," she sighed into the air. Yet this was a wish the pair had murmured to one another in the dark thousands of times, but never in the light. As though, as the moon succeeded the sun and the stars lit the way for travellers far and wide, it was okay to share such hopes. . . such wild, thoughtless hopes that both knew to be futile and impossible to have come true. 

"I know, darling," he acknowledged her words softly, for he too knew that this thought was one with no purpose and was said despite the both of them knowing that it was forever in vain. So he took to gently stroking the curls that fell atop his chest, and it was as though they were threads of gold. "I know."

Angels don't belong in Small Heath. The very thought that had crossed his mind on too many occasions to count, and it was one that refused to stop plaguing his mind. Tommy knew that if there was one place that Felicity should have found herself wound up in, it was in the very city he reigned each day. . . and just how she had been born to John Woods was forever going to be a mystery to him. The girl was too nice for her own good.

"We could go on a proper holiday once this is all over," she suggested to him, eyes still closed as his fingers combed her hair, twisting ringlets of gold around and around his pinkie. 

Tommy allowed himself to smile at her words, at the thought of the pair of them breaking free from their normal ordeals for a weekend. "That'd be perfect."

Felicity nodded, mirroring his expression. "Get away from everything, everyone, and go to the country. Or London? I never had the chance to go to London."

"We'd go to London, 'course," Tommy agreed, although his mind was beginning to become preoccupied. . . much to his annoyance, he found. "Although I can't promise it's very nice there ― full of all the smoke and shit."

She laughed, but caught the edge to his voice: the edge he had tried so hard to hide the minute it had appeared, the minute his mind had clouded with thoughts he hadn't wanted to acknowledge for at least another hour or so. 

Felicity wriggled into an upright position. "What's the real reason we're here, Tom?" 

Tommy mentally groaned. Forget being too nice ― she was far too observing for her own good. It was as though she could always discover whenever something was amiss, and although she knew when he would or wouldn't reveal just what was troubling, that rarely stopped her from asking. Felicity couldn't bear the thought of someone suffering and Tommy knew such a thing often plagued her. . . which gave him yet another reason for wishing she had not wound up in such a hellhole such as Small Heath. What good was ever going to emerge from having empathy in a place where hurt flooded its streets? He often feared it would overwhelm her and the urge to protect the doe-eyed girl grew forever stronger. 

And so, with a heavy sigh, he turned to her.

"There's going to be a war, Lis."

Whatever she had been expecting, it most definitely was not that. Her heart seemed to have stopped dead in its tracks the minute the words' meaning had settled upon her. Air caught in her throat, piling up as though forming a suffocating lump that refused to disperse. 

"What?" She choked out, before she swallowed, hard, in an attempt to dislodge the lump that wasn't even there.

"Black Star Day." 

Vague. Horribly, horribly vague. 

Felicity smacked his arm, indignant at how little he was giving away right now. "What the fuck is Black Star Day?"

All of his hopes of keeping the usual business out of this day had vanished the moment she had questioned whether or not something was up, and so he thought it was now only fair of him to share everything with her, rather than to try and keep it hidden. So that was what he did.

"Black Star Day is the day we take out Billy Kimber," he continued slowly.

"I though Polly said it'd be suicide for you to even attempt going against both my father and Billy Kimber?" Felicity questioned, concern beginning to line her words as she groaned with the realisation that this was happening ― Tommy was really putting everything out on the line as though he hadn't a fear in the world.

But he did have a fear. Losing the girl that meant more to him than he had ever anticipated her to was the worry that plagued him more so than he wanted, the anxiety that he might somehow lose her consuming him as he worried and tensed ― for what felt like the millionth time ― over pulling off a plan he had so selfishly been set on from the start.

"Taking down Kimber would make it easier to go against your father," Tommy explained. 

Meaning there would be one less corrupt man to walk the streets where she too could be found.

One less life to endanger her own.

"There's no use in doing it if it's dangerous, Tommy," Felicity sighed after a moment's thinking. "Losing you ― or anyone of you ― isn't going to be a price I'm willing to pay just so that my father and Kimber goes down."

Tommy shook his head firmly, refusing to accept that such a situation could ever occur. He wouldn't let it. "You wouldn't lose me."

"How could you possibly know that?" 

Because that was her fear ― losing him. She could not bear the thought that there might come a day where she would have to live without him by her side, without his heartbeat steadying hers. She knew it was selfish but she couldn't help it, not when she knew that there was a way for her to keep things how they were ― the pair beside one another, as though they were in sync, knowing that so long as they were safe, everything was alright.

And perhaps, what with her fear and his, they truly were in sync. One and the same.

As though either of them would believe it, however. 

That didn't stop the next words that left his lips being the truest he thought he had ever said, though.

"Because I have someone to live for."

AUTHOR'S NOTE
honestly this chapter is a really short
filler bc the next chapter is gonna  be 
long  and  dramatic  and  kdvjdvjdfk  i 
can't wait to finish part one omg ― n
e way i love you all so much, tysm  for
still reading pls you're amazing asf