FLORENCE WOKE UP WITH her little brother attached to her sleeping frame, the small boy snuggled into her as he had snuck out of his room sometime during the night, his sister not even noticing the shift in her small bed until the sunlight began to deep through her curtains, waking her up. Although, Tommy was an extremely light sleep, and had been since he came back from the War; the man had heard creaks one the floorboards during the middle of the night, and having thought that it could be an intruder, he carefully made his way into the hallway, only to see his son carefully making his way for Florence's room, having clearly missed his older sister — the man couldn't help but smile when he peeked through the girls door and saw Charlie cuddling up against Florence, but also sad that Grace wasn't there anymore to be the motherly figure his son needed. Tommy had left his young daughter to fare for Charlie when he couldn't do so himself, when he mentally couldn't even face going inside of his house again, not without the only woman he had loved after Greta; he had a lot of making up to do for his daughter, the girl having been through a lot, because of him. He even remembered blaming Charlie's kidnapping on her, and he regretted it greatly, every single day, as the girl had headed in with Michael purely for that reason, afraid that it was her fault. Tommy just hoped that the girl would eventually forgive him, no matter how hard it may be.

After witnessing Charlie costing up to his sister, he headed back to his room, and hoped that tomorrow would be a different day; a better day. And Florence had hoped that Christmas Eve would be different, too — the young girl had started to realise that she shouldn't be holding onto grudges like she would love forever. As much was Florence just didn't know if she could forgive her father for something so huge, especially in such a short amount of time, the girl knew that it would affect her brother in the long run, and she definitely didn't want that. Florence knew what it was like to loose her mother, and although Charlie is much younger than she was, Florence knew that family was the best thing for her at the time — whisky she had Finn to help her through it, the boy acting like a brother towards her, Charlie had her, and she didn't want to abandon him for something Tommy did. And so, the second the young Shelby woke up on Christmas Eve, she knew that things were going to have to change between her and Tommy, no matter what she thought of him, and it was going to have to start today.. "Charlie, buddy." Florence whispered, carefully shaking her brother awake, despite the groans of protest, "Does daddy know you're in here?" She asked him, knowing the one rule she used to have as a kid.. Don't want around after bedtime unless you want to get shot.

Charlie nearly hit the girl in the face when he stretched his little arms above his head and yawned, before finally looking up at Florence with an innocent look on his face. "No." He said cheekily, knowing that he shouldn't have snuck in here because he wasn't allowed to wander the house after his bed time.

Florence rolled her eyes with a sigh when he closed his eyes again and snuggled back into her pillows and sheet, obviously finding her bed much more comfortable than his own; and since it was the Christmas holidays, she didn't want to make him get up early, she wanted to let him have a lie in. So, the girl headed to her wardrobe, which had been kept clean during her absence, and picked out a dress to get into, one of her nice ones due to it being Christmas. As much as she still hated her father right now, it was nice to be surrounded by people instead of being in her own company yet again, but she just wished that her whole family was here with them.. When the girl had reached the bottom of the stairs, she was instantly greeted by one of her fathers maids, smiling up at her as she walked down the stairs and stopped once she saw her. "Your father's waiting for you at the table, Ms. Shelby." The woman informed the Shelby girl politely, even if Florence didn't really want anything done for her, knowing where she had come from and who she still was, money wouldn't change her, not like it had with her father. The maid seemed to notice the hesitance on Florence's face, having been told by Tommy that she wouldn't like to be waited on, so she begun to speak up again, "Mr. Shelby insisted." She added, even more polite than before.

As much as she hated all of this, and had hated it even before, when she lived here, she smiled back at the maid. "Thankyou." Florence said, as nicely as she could, despite her annoyance about the whole situation. When the maid finally left her, the girl sighed in frustration, dragging her feet towards the dining room where she would have to sit with her father for a breakfast she didn't even want, since it was his house. The second she reached the large room and saw Tommy sitting at the end, waiting patiently for the girl with a cigarette in his mouth, she spoke up, "Summoning me? You couldn't come and get me yourself?" Florence asked, crossing her arms across her chest as she didn't take a seat like he wanted her, too.

"I pay them enough, why not give them jobs to do." Tommy stated, still not understanding why Florence had always hated the fact that he paid people to do things for him — he still put money into her account every month despite what she said, and he was still giving everything to her in his will, yet he still wondered what she even did with that money, since she lived in a small apartment with no workers.. Every day that passed, the more she reminded him of the girls mother, still as stubborn as ever.

"You're getting lazy." Florence scoffed, taking the seat across from him, looking down at the neatly laid table in disgust, "I told you that I didn't want to do any of this." She added, knowing for a fact that her father knew the girl had always hated the idea of being waited on in her own home. It was then, did she notice the third placement at the table, designed especially for Charlie to sit at, "One of my things to do when I was younger, was watch mum or aunt Pol cooking." The girl pointed out, implying that Charlie may be growing up spoilt.

Tommy's facial expression didn't change as the girl spoke these words, "Charlie's mum is dead." He told the girl, not a single emotions showing on his face as he said it. Florence seemed a bit taken back at his words, since he hadn't spoken about Grace since she had first died.

"But he still has you, no?" Florence retorted, shrugging when the man merely gave her a look. Tommy didn't like how the girl had been constantly nagging him about how he was raising Charlie, and whilst it was completely different to how he had being her up, he was trying his best.. Before Tommy could even say anything back to Florence, though, a maid had walked into the dining room with Charlie in her arms, the young girl sending a pointed look het fathers way, as to say that her point had been made, and the man couldn't even get his own son ready for breakfast.

And the rest of their breakfast had just carried on in complete silence, with the occasional small conversations with Charlie and pretending that everything was okay, and that Florence didn't currently dislike her father. When they finished breakfast, Florence was disappointed, but not surprised, when Tommy stood up and sorted his suit out, "I have to work today, Charlie. But your sister's going to be here with you, until I get back." He informed his son, walking past and ruffling his hair as the girl sitting across from them glared at the back of his head, knowing now, that yeh only reason the man had invited her round, was because he couldn't be home with Charlie, himself.

The girl didn't hesitate rushing after her father when he began to walk to the front door, ready to leave for work, and when she reached the front door shortly after him, the man paused, waiting for her to speak up as he knew he was about to receive her wrath again. "Is that why you really wanted me to come over? Because you wanted someone to be with Charlie whilst you're at work all day?" She asked, bitterly.

Tommy finally turned around to face his daughter, instantly spotting the anger on her face, he knew that he had fucked up, yet again, "I have a few important meetings, then I'll be back." He explained calmly, sensing that Florence wasn't happy at all with the fact, "I'm sorry, Florence, I didn't expect to have any today, they're last minute." The man added, sighing, knowing that there was nothing he could do.

Florence shook her head at the man, "You can't fix this with money." She informed him, watching as he eventually turned around and climbed into his car. And as she watched him drive away, she knew that she didn't want to be here when he returns..

Florence left around an hour after Tommy left. The girl couldn't justify staying in the large house alone all day, with Charlie sleeping and the maids doing their duty around the house — when Tommy had arrived at her flat a day earlier, she had truly thought that he wanted to change, that he wanted to spend Christmas with her and Charlie, all together, but he had left at the first chance he could, and it had annoyed Florence to no end. The girl had to bribe one of the drivers with a wad of cash to be able to get a lift back to her own flat, every single one of the people working at her fathers house being scared to go against his actions and letting the girl leave; the man couldn't keep her here, no matter how hard he tried. She had tried, she tried to push past everything he had done to her for Charlie, but it was too hard — when she looked at Tommy's face, all she could see was the noose that nearly ended her life. The man must know this, he must know that his daughter now couldn't even look at him without all of these nightmares coming into play, and the fact that he could just pretend that nothing was wrong between them, upset the girl.

So she left. Florence said goodbye to Charlie and informed him that she would be back very soon, trying to push back the complete heartbreak at the little boys face when she told him she was leaving; it was Christmas Eve, and she knew that she should be putting Charlie first, but she also had to put her mental health first, and staying away from Tommy for a little while longer, was the way to do that. The girl sighed when the driver pulled up outside of her flat building, "Thanks." She mumbled, grabbing her suitcase and climbing out of the car, not even looking back at the man whom had kicked up such a fuss about driving her home. Even after he offered to carry her suitcase into the building, she refused his help, having had enough of people doing things for her in just one day, she didn't know how her father did it so often.
She had a bit of a struggle getting her suitcase up the stairs, but didn't care, since she was just fed up with everyone looking at her like she was some sort of damsel in distress. The second she reached her flat, she sighed in relief, pushing in her key and opening her door, taking in her own place as she had been at her fathers for longer than she wanted — nothing in his home was homely, whereas Florence had photos, and had designed the whole place to look like her own.

The girl spent the next hour unpacking her belongings and putting them back where they belong, the guilt eating her alive the whole time, the fact that she had left Charlie on Christmas Eve and Day, and had only told him that she would be back 'soon'. Although, to keep her sanity, the girl just couldn't stay with her father; just one day in his house, and she wanted to rip her hair out, she definitely couldn't do another day with him. Florence poured herself another glass of wine as she laid back on her sofa, a book in her hand as she tried to calm herself — since she had been released from prison, the girl had been trying to rid her bad thoughts by reading books, some being suggested by Ada and Polly, and the girl actually believed that it had been working. And although she hadn't seen Polly in a long while, she had heard from Michael that she was doing okay.. Not as well as she had been before prison and almost dying, but Florence didn't blame her one bit. Florence had been with Polly when they had almost been hung, so she understood why the woman had taken it so poorly, the girl was just grateful that she still knew how to function properly after such a traumatic experience.

After another few hours relaxing, and getting back into her routine, Florence sighed in annoyance when she heard a knock at the door, and the way that the knock sounded, in some sort of rhyme that the girl had heard nearly every day since she had first moved into the building. James, yet again, knocking at her door, for something that she had no clue about. Pushing her book to the side, Florence stood up and sulked over to her door, trying not to look too pissed off as she answered the door, but when she saw James standing on the other side, a smile on his face and a few small envelopes in his hand, clearly having answered for her mail instead of the postman slipping it through her mailbox. "James." The Shelby girl greeted, sending him the fake smile as she just didn't have it in herself to be horrible, she was just too tired.

"Hey, Florence." James greeted, the second he spoke up, the girl not knowing how he could he so clingy when they hadn't even spoken that much, "I was out here this morning when the postman came, and I thought I'd take your mail so I could hand it to you in person." He explained, just sounding creepier the more he spoke.

Florence nodded slowly, not understand why he would do so, "And the postman just.. Gave you my post?" She asked, tilting her head in confusion as she looked down at the many letters in the boys hand.

James shrugged, "Yeah." He lied, knowing damn well that he had paid the guy some extra money to hand over the girls letters, just so he could give it to her in person and talk to her a little just before the holidays.

"Okay." Is all Florence could say, waiting for the boy to hand over the letters, only for the boy to keep hold on them, keeping his smile on his face as he looked at Florence, "Are you alone for Christmas, then?" She decided to question, hoping that if she gave him some conversation he would end up just giving her the envelopes that are probably from her family. She knew that John was having everyone round for New Years, and Florence had said she'd go, and this may be his response..

"My families in London, I got some work down here to complete before heading up there." James explained to Florence, as the girl nodded in understanding, "What about you? I thought you went to your dads." He said, remembering seeing Thomas Shelby and almost shitting his pants at how terrified he had been just by looking in the man's eyes; he definitely didn't want to ever see that man again, especially since he wanted to live.

"I did, but I'm home now." Florence informed him, the thought that she wasn't giving the boy enough credit for actually being a kind guy; the girl just wasn't interested in anything right now, and James knew that, but he just wouldn't give in no matter how many hints the girl made that she wasn't interested. As the girl said this, she saw a flash of hope cross on his face, and she couldn't help but feel bad that he was alone on the holidays, too — when she first met James, she didn't think that she would ever invite him into her flat merely because of how annoying he was, but the girl didn't exactly want to be alone on Christmas, too. "Do you want to come in? I'm just having some wine, but I have some whiskey and.," She began to ask the boy, only for James to immediately cut in with a huge smile on his face.

"Yes!" James exclaimed, coughing awkwardly after he did so, "I mean, yeah, I guess. If you're not doing anything." He said, not wanting to look too over the top in front of the girl. Florence opened the door wide enough for him to enter, the boy handing over the girls letters as he walked in, the Shelby girl accepting them gratefully and placing them on her coffee table before heading to the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of whiskey for James, pouring three fingers worth and handing it over to him. As they both sat down on the sofa, James spoke up again. "A lot of letters on Christmas Eve." He pointed out, watching as the girl picked up her letters and began to open them one by one.

"Yeah, it's probably from my uncles. I'm supposed to be going over there for New Years Eve." Florence explained, smiling as she saw John's familiar writing on one of the letters, informing her on the plans for New Years and who had said yes to coming. There was a question as to wether or not Tommy was letting Charlie come, or if he was coming with, and the girl hated the fact that she knew he wouldn't go along with it, since her father still believed that everyone hated him. Granted, they did to some extent, but that didn't mean that all the kids couldn't hang out and have fun; Florence thought that her father was being selfish in that department.

James smiled at the fact she still had uncles that cared for her, since he didn't know that feeling. "I'm an only child, so are my parents, so I've never have any aunts or uncles." He informed her, as the girl started opening the next letter, now from Arthur.

"Really?" Florence asked in shock, not knowing what she would even do without her aunts and uncles, "I have three uncles, an aunt and a great aunt." She explained, as James nodded his head, pretending like he didn't know that already, since everyone in Small Heath knew about the Shelby family.

When a knock sounded at the door, James could see that the girl was immersed into opening another letter, so he stood up, "I'll get it." He announced, placing his whiskey down on the coffee table.

Florence looked up at him and smiled, "Thanks." She said, finally pulling out the card from the envelope, tilting her head in confusion at who could've it, but the second she opened up the card, her heart stopped, and she felt the whole world go in slow motion, "James, wait!" She shouted, instantly springing up to stop the boy from answered the door, only for a gunshot to ring out, and James' body to fly backwards and fall to the ground, blood instantly pouring out of his head and on the girls floorboard.

And whilst this was going down, a card was left open on the coffee table, a black hand printed inside..