She appeared like the very exhale of the bright afternoon sun was upon her, as the candlelight that flickered in a gentle sway, illuminated her in a rich citrine hue. One that eradicated the tone of soft porcelain that had always captured her complexion in a breath of pale beauty and delicate refinery, replacing it with a tanned hue that made her skin warmer as though the rare display of sunlight that afternoon, had kissed every inch of her.

It was a different sight, Thomas Shelby mused to himself, to see her in this light. This oversaturated, eye burning kind of light. For the glow of the single candle sitting idly on the coffee table, bathed her in an ambiance he'd never saw her immersed in before.

His eyes had seen her at the break of dawn, with the faintest breath of the sun peering timidly over the foggy horizon, and made her cheekbones twinkle like the evening's abandoned stars had simply gotten lost in the pale abyss of her skin tone. He'd witnessed her amongst stormy afternoons, when she sat cross legged on the floor beside Charlie and his plethora of wooden trains, almost seeing the yearn for clear skies and calm air spread across her face, like with the grey clouds came her own sense of deeply rooted melancholy.

He'd even observed her over a brightly candlelight illuminated dinner table, peering at her animated expressions as she engaged in a conversation with the little boy. A talent of hers Tommy could never deny as he himself, found it quite difficult to converse with his own son, over trite topics and following the line of thought only that of a five year old could possess. But she did it with ease, as though talking to Charlie about things that held no importance to an adult but held the weight of the world to him, was enjoyable and simple and perhaps, more pleasant than conversations she might share with another human her own age.

But he'd never seen her in this light. This two in the morning light, when the rest of the world appeared to be resting and her bare feet pattered along the hardwood floor of his study as though she were the only soul awake. It was an intimate kind of light, one that bathed her in a special kind of glow as if the innocence woven within her character, was tangible and worn like the satin nightgown she adorned.

A private kind of light, as if even his own icy gaze of chilling azure, was scathing upon a sight he hadn't the right to peer upon. For there was something incredibly tempting about the way the single exhale of a sharp citrine hue found her, illuminating her single frame while leaving the rest of the space engulfed within the shadows of the overwhelming night. It was like a spotlight shinning down upon Tommy's deepest desires.

She hadn't heard his own bare steps bring him to a halt in the threshold of his study, leaning his weight against the smooth wooden beam as he observed her in the untouched silence.

Hands dug deep into the pockets of his black trousers, the cool night's air crawling over the exposed flesh of his forearms, as the sleeves of the ivory undershirt he wore, were coiled and pushed harshly up his arms. Displaying the thick veins running beneath his warm skin and he felt the nip in the air dance along the curve of his collarbone, dipping down timidly through the soft wisps of raven hair peeking out from the undone buttons.

There was something about the way he was dressed down for the night, having retired far earlier than most nights, as some days he didn't go to bed at all. But even as he stood far more casual than she had ever seen him to look in her presence, she still appeared more of an intimate sight than Tommy Shelby ever would.

The shade suited her, a soft breath of mint green satin cascading down her frame, with the faintest taste of intricate lace dancing up the flowy sleeves of her dressing gown. It was a meld of blue and green, as the delicate hue of soft green made her porcelain skin stand out, but as the candlelight flooded over the linen, it emboldened it to a bluer hue that enriched the sight of her hair. Thick waves, tumbling over her left shoulder like a never ending current of deep ebony, as her locks had been tightly secured in the confines of a simple plait since she woke that morning, leaving behind the evidence as their freedom now cascaded in slightly wild waves down her shoulder.

There was something contradictory about the shade she adorned, for the mint was sharp and cold, like he could nearly taste the bite of harsh peppermint on his tongue. But in the very same cooled exhale, there was a warmth in the hue, that was like a fresh spring morning when everything in nature seemed far too gentle and far too soft to be real.

She wore them well, these contradictions. She wore them in an intoxicating fashion, one that left Tommy beguiled on more than one occasion and left spinning with fervent desires he knew he shouldn't have for the governess he'd hired to care for his son. But four months later, his lust for her had yet to fade, and grew more precarious by the day.

"I'm unsure you'll find any that'll meet your interests."

Tommy knew the way his voice rattled within the surrounding walls, the quietly spoken words suddenly appearing boisterous in the all-consuming silence of night, hurdling the sound through the room like a bullet ricocheting off the warm wood. He wasn't surprised when they scathed her as such, like they might just leave behind the evidence of their impact on the once still atmosphere, against her flesh for the morning light to see. His words broke the sound barrier, but as his voice soon dissipated from the air like they'd merely punctured the void and ran on their way, her own sensation was not far behind.

For Tommy listened to the sharp inhale of breath, catching in her chest, as he watched her entire body jump at the abrupt nature of his presence. Smooth mint satin swirling and nearly curling itself around her legs, as she swung towards the sound of his voice in the doorway, head snapping up from her stare down at the old and well-worn book in her hands. She didn't drop the object as Tommy predicted she might however, in fact, her fingers only tightened their hold on the spine as she spun to face him.

"Mr. Shelby," His name came dressed in a sharp exhale, a breath of relief expelling from the cavity of her lungs, as he watched her right-hand lift only to press against her chest. Like she might just be able to slow the sudden racing of her heart, as a flash of adrenaline shot through her like she'd been pricked by the tip of a needle, with the soft weight of her hand against the pale skin of her chest bone. "I hadn't heard you awake."

Like that of the clothing she adorned, her voice was that too of an intoxicating contradiction. For it was velvet woven within the clutches of something strong and seemingly impenetrable. Soft and angelic in nature, for it tiptoed across the current of the universe as though she hadn't wanted to leave a single trace behind, all the while, her tone was naturally formidable in a way that spoke of the way her life had certainly carved her.

It wasn't abrasive or bold or even deep for a female, it was gentle and kind and undeniably melodic. But it wasn't weak. It wasn't easily shattered, manipulated or overrun. It was strong. Like she was a beautiful damsel, but required not a single white knight to come and save her, for she could surely save herself should the moment arise.

Tommy cleared his throat in a single deep rumble, as his bare pads began to move against the cool hardwood floors and made his way into the room. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

The hands on his golden pocket watch had long ago ticked past two in the morning, leaving behind the day in the memories of yesterday, as the new morning's sun was not far from reach as dawn whispered like an impending promise somewhere over the hidden horizon. But even as the early morning was dense with the sharp shadows of the deep indigo night, she stood at the wide stretching bookshelves in his study, wide awake like sleep hadn't discovered her yet.

But the closer Tommy grew to her stilled stance, the more he realized her eyes shone like she didn't crave a wink of slumber. Not in the way his own eyes screamed out their desire for a single night unplagued by the horrors of a long-ago survived war, or images of his late wife's blood spilled across the floor.

She was enticing even at that of two in the morning, a time Tommy knew tended to be his worst, when he woke shuddering from a nightmare, she stood here the complete opposite.

And there was something utterly bewitching in the prospect of entangling himself with someone so incredibly whole, that perhaps for a single moment, when their bodies might not know where one stopped and the other began, he might just be able to forget about the way he was broken in ways she'd never know.

"I couldn't sleep," She responds to his inquiry in a soft voice, the settling of her breath not lost on him, as he can see the calm flood back into her like the wash of a cool tide. "I thought I might catch up on some reading. I came down here because I'm always so interested in your collection."

Her eyes had since fallen back down to the sight of the worn book in her hands, the tip of her finger trailing over the title etched deep across the front, before she shakes her head in a gentle bound that still manages to rustle her cascading locks. "I should've asked you--"

"Nonsense," Tommy cuts her off before she can endeavor to apologize, continuing his leisurely strides towards her, he holds his right hand up as he approaches her. "You've shown these books more attention than I have since I had them moved in."

His words although mirthful in tone, were undeniably true. For Tommy knew he couldn't name all the books that lined his shelves, he couldn't even begin to tell a lie that he'd read them all himself. But Tommy had seen the way her eyes strayed every time she found herself in his study. Whether it simply be to ask if it was alright to take Charlie out to the pastures for the day, after his lessons were done of course. To the times when she'd come in for a simple question but wind-up conversing with him about something new entirely.

No matter the day, no matter the reason for her presence, he watched when she left and saw the way her eyes strayed to the rows and rows of unread and hardly touched books, like it took everything in her not to stop and begin pulling them out to look for herself.

Her polite smile is illuminated by the sharp glow of the swaying candlelight, like the deep hue might just seep into the soft lines of her expression. Even as her head turns away from Tommy's watchful scrutiny, returning her gaze back down towards the book in her hands that Tommy can't say he's familiar with, the light still manages to find her face.

It isn't much, not enough to completely banish away the traces of the room's stifling shadows, but just enough that it pools in faint puddles of marigold beneath her curious eyes. As though the tips of her dark lashes, might just dip into the light and appear coated like the edge of a paintbrush with the saturated color that pierces through the night.

Forcing himself to look away from her, blinking wildly as he run his tongue over the flesh of his suddenly dry bottom lip, Tommy clears his throat once more as the silence begins to settle in again. Realizing he's never wanted a cigarette quite as badly as he wants one in that very moment. But he swallows down the urges plaguing his mind, giving thanks to the darkness that encompasses them and hides away the extent of his lustful desires, and speaks up in a calm voice.

"I'm surprised Charlie didn't wear you out to the point of instant exhaustion today."

Her eyes take a moment to flicker up to meet his gaze, the concentrated knitting of her brows softening as she abandons sight of her book, but the smile that glides effortlessly across her lips does not. It's immediate and bright, like nothing in the world could ever threaten to dim such formidable light.

It was clear, her affection for his little boy, evident as though she wore her emotions like a second skin. She wore the love that beamed through her heart for the boy that was not her own, but anyone could take one look at the way she cared for that child, and they could've well been fooled.

It was a beam Tommy knew well, a beam he could never quite wear as well as she did or in the way Grace had worn it when Charlie was still that of an infant, but it adorned him on the inside. Not a crevice left untouched by the joy that boy brought him, even when it frightened him each and every day of his life to feel such blatant love.

"He can surely test the length of my energy," She admits with a breathy exhale, lips curling tenderly around the words, as though to coil them within the love that exudes from her tone. "But I find I quite miss him when he's asleep."

They'd been out in the pastures that entire day, having left just shortly before Tommy himself departed for the day, returning back to Arrow House only a few short hours before he arrived back. The sun had been a rarity that day, bold as it hung amongst a piercing blue sky, without a single cloud to obscure the view of such rich and warm sunshine.

It bathed the Earth in a much-needed breath of warmth, one that penetrated the soil Charlie's bare feet had thudded across, coating each and every blade of chartreuse grass and exhaling heat over her shoulders, soaking through the thin chiffon material she wore. They'd had his lessons outside that day, making sure not to slack even for one day, but when he was finished, they absorbed the gift of such sunshine until dusk settled in over the horizon and drew the curtain on such a beautiful day.

"He's a sweet boy."

Tommy can't help the way his lips instinctually twitch at her words, the thought of his boy never ceasing to prick his heart and let a droplet of his unfathomable love bleed out into his expression. He might not always show his love like he should, Tommy knew he wasn't the father that Charlie deserved, but no one in this world, could contest the way Tommy loved his son. For it was the one thing Tommy Shelby knew about himself to be true, without a single shred of doubt residing in his bones.

"That he is." Tommy exhales, his eyes staring absentmindedly at the book spines in front of him. But after a single beat of a moment, his lips parched for the burn of Irish Whiskey and craving that of tobacco, part and let a brief slice of candor escape through. "He's lucky to have you."

She wasn't supposed to love that boy like he was her entire world and yet, Tommy saw the way she looked at his son and knew that it was impossible to deny it. Maybe he hadn't wanted her to love him, maybe he hadn't wanted her to be loved by Charlie as much as she was, maybe he hadn't wanted her to work out here at all. But she did and she was. No matter how much it tormented Tommy to see the way Charlie looked up to her, like she might just be filling in the shoes of the mother he couldn't remember.

No matter how much it drove him nearly mad in the head to want her in a way he hadn't wanted someone since Grace. Because it wasn't a lust quickly defused by a whore or a sense of grief, he might just bury in the use of another. He wanted her in every way he could possibly want a woman.

It wasn't love but it also wasn't something that could simply be sated by a quick fuck. It was a desire deep inside of himself, both primal and hungry but undeniably real and honest, that Tommy couldn't quite decipher the meaning of. But knew, that with each passing day, his ability to keep himself professional in her presence, was waning.

"We both are."

In spite of it all, in spite of every feeling that plagued Tommy Shelby, he couldn't deny for a single moment, the way she just simply belonged here.

Her eyes peered up at him after his words left his lips and hung in the air as though they'd become trapped in a dense void. Her dark lashes flapping timidly against the soft flesh of her cheekbones, the left side of her illuminated by the candlelight, while the right remained engulfed in the dark indigo of the night's shadows.

The light danced along the flecks in her irises, as though traces of golden leaf resided amongst the pools of a shade so rich, it appeared like one of Charlie's strewn crayons had been melted down and only the saturated color remained.

Tommy rather expected her to be alarmed by his candor, as his voice dipped down a peg and the density in the room took on an unmistakable air. But she wasn't and she didn't stare up at him now with bewilderment or confusion. She didn't seem uneasy by the way he stood so very close to her now, that she could nearly breathe in the very trail of his exhales. She rather appeared calm, nervous just a tad as Tommy listened to the way her breath sharply inhaled, but she wasn't afraid of him or the move he might just make should his restrain suddenly disintegrate like sand in an hourglass.

Her lips pressed together softly, and it took everything inside of Tommy not to reach his hand out right in that instant, and free the flesh with a tender trace of his fingertip. Her lashes beat another blink, before her lips parted and the sound of her voice broke through the tension building like a base drum in the atmosphere. "Are you going to kiss me, Mr. Shelby?"

A faint smirk unfurled itself across the stretch of his lips, as Tommy's deep raven brows arched in a slightly mirthful manner, before responding in a coy and tempting tone. "Is that what you want?"

"I wasn't aware my wants were a consideration. I thought it was always about what you wanted."

Maybe it was the way she met him wherever it he stood, never once backing down to the man simply because he could intimidate the air straight out of her lungs, or because it was his name signed along the bottom of her checks, that captivated Tommy in a way being challenged and defied never had before.

She vexed him, of that he was perfectly sure, but her vexation was different. Because it wasn't out of disrespect or contempt for him, it was rather like they found themselves tiptoeing the steps of a dance they both knew. She could infuriate him, as she wasn't easy to control as everyone else who came into his life, but even so, a glimmer of pure unscathed innocence continued to glint in the core of her eyes, and it was the most beguiling notion Tommy had ever witnessed.

The smirk toying at the edges of his lips had yet to falter, in fact, he found himself having to press his lips together in order to keep the expression from spreading further.

"Oh it is," Tommy muses beneath his breath, his brows furrowing softly as he took half a pace towards her. "I only wished to hear you say you wanted me as badly as I want you."

Tommy stands so very close to her now, that he can nearly taste the sharp sting of peppermint on her suddenly shallow breath, the scent of her lilac lotion assaulting his nose with each inhale he proceeds to take, staring down at her with a fiery haze behind the impenetrable sheen of ice his cerulean gaze has to offer.

Although she isn't afraid of a man like him, standing this close to a woman like her, his words settle into her with an undeniable presence. For Tommy can feel the way her heart begins to pick up pace, beating against the confines of her chest, like it might just ripple the smooth sheen of satin obscuring her bare flesh. The candlelight that dances along the bridge of her brow, glistens as the first evidence of a soft sheen of sweat appears and he can hear the way her breath hitches at his words, becoming sharp, her inhales quicker than they had been before.

But if there was one thing Tommy knew about her to be true, it was that she wasn't like any other woman he'd ever met before. She wasn't easily swayed, she didn't swoon and nearly fall to her knees at the base of his bed, she was intoxicated by him but clear enough to know herself.

"And what if I didn't?" She inquires breathlessly, peering up at him through the sprawl of her suddenly still lashes, and there is a dangerous depth to her irises that sparks embers into the already blistering wildfire ensuing through Tommy's being. "What if I didn't want you like you say I do? Like you claim to want me?"

Tommy leaned forward a mere centimeter, letting his breath coat her lips as though the heat is her own, as his words fall like the sweet glaze of honey. "I'd make you reconsider."

Her smile, timid but unmistakably enthralled, flickers brighter in the core of her lustful gaze as she strives to keep the extent of her expression at bay. "You're not used to not getting your way, are you Mr. Shelby?"

"I find life to be a game," Tommy murmurs in a low voice, one he wonders if she can feel rumbling against her own chest, as he can certainly feel the way her breath heaves softly at the way his words touch her ears. "One in which I have no intentions of losing."

She studied him for a short while, like she might just unravel the current running wild through the azure of his steady orbs, unearthing each and every truth, secret, ghost and story, that Tommy was certain he'd buried down deep enough never to see the light of day again. It was unnerving however, the way she looked at him, it was a sensation he'd never gotten accustomed to, even after all these months having her here. Because she looked at him like she didn't know him, all the while, it felt like she did.

It was a bewildering contradiction, because she looked at him like she knew exactly who he was, a man he didn't have the heart to tell her didn't exist, but she wasn't naive when she looked at him, however. It was something indescribable, the way she could look to him without the slightest hint of fear or trepidation at the knowledge of the blood that stained his hands, and the violence that could ensue within the frayed strings of his heart.

She looked at him like he was a different man entirely, all the while, knowing full well who he was. But she didn't seem to care, that was the root of it all. She didn't care about his history, the past that clung to him like the chains of a shackled ghost, she didn't care about what he'd done or the notion of what he could do. She made up her own mind, she made up her own evaluations, she made up her own thoughts and opinions. And through all that, she still managed to come to the conclusion that she rather liked who Thomas Shelby was.

"I fear this might change the nature of my employment."

Her next set of words were not what Tommy expected them to be and yet, it was just like her, constantly keeping him on his toes. He had to hold back the soft bout of laughter wishing to spill in a sharp breath from his lips. "I can promise you it won't."

"And how might I believe you?"

"Because I will be truthful with you now, by admitting to you, that my intentions in hiring you were not entirely..." Tommy paused slightly, searching for the right word to best describe his rather selfish motives for selecting her out of the group of other applicants for the position. "Pure."

But she was rather amused by his statement of candor, for her brow lifted and a mirthful smile tugged at her lips. "Is that so?"

Tommy hums softly under his breath, flickering his gaze down the curvature of her nose until he lands at the curled nature of her lips, before letting them raise back up to her eyeline. "Your kindness and saint like patience was for Charlie. Your beauty and intoxicating presence, well, I suppose that was for me."

"You're a selfish man, Mr. Shelby."

"That I am."

"You're used to taking what you want, when you want it."

"Yes."

Her lashes fluttered with the beat of her heart, as her gaze swelled deeper and nearly sucked Tommy straight in. "And you want me?"

If Tommy hadn't seen this moment play out a thousand times in his head, knowing exactly how he wanted to feel her beneath him, he would've surely bent her over his desk on the other side of the room and let the fire consume his entire being. But he restrained, knowing patience was very much a virtue and well rewarded.

Her skin is soft, nearly as smooth as the satin she adorned, for his knuckles brush along the side of her neck, as he tucks a fallen wave behind her ear and out of her line of sight. Feeling the way her heart dangerously thuds inside of her chest, as her pulse races with a beat so strong, he wonders just how long she'll sustain. "I think you might be toying with me now, wouldn't you say?"

But she doesn't dissolve at his touch, not entirely, not to the point where she can no longer stand on her own two feet or think clearly. "No more than you've toyed with me."

Tommy smirked as he took the last pace remaining between them, towering over her and letting the wash of his shadow bathe her in a cooling shade. "No more games then, ey?"

His fingers abandon the wave securely tucked behind her ear, purposefully letting his fingertips trail a little too slowly back down her neck, before withdrawing his touch completely. Leaving behind little embers settled along the path of her skin, awaiting to ignite and send her into the same fervent frenzy Tommy feels blistering inside of himself.

"Does that mean you're going to kiss me now?"

Her sense of strength in herself and who she is, melding with her undeniable tinge of unscathed innocence, is an intoxicating blend that nearly soars through Tommy's veins like he hadn't even needed the taste of whiskey to dance along his tastebuds. "Only if you ask."

Her brows furrow but her smile declines to falter, "I thought you said no more games, Mr. Shelby."

Her knowing look rouses him, "I can assure you, I'm not playing anymore."

"Then what would you say you're doing now?"

Tommy leans in, closing the very last of the space remaining between them, until he can just about feel the heat of her exhale on the tip of his tongue. "Winning."

His lips don't find her own however, they descend upon the sharp display of her collarbone. Absorbing the warmth her flesh has to offer as though he were in need of his own, his hands finding their way around the form of her waist, as her own hands shoot up and find the sturdy build of his shoulders.

Her scent is nearly too potent for his senses to take, the mixture of lilac and crisp evening soap, the faintest hint of the nature she'd been immersed in all day still lingering along the very tips of her long winding waves, and the most alluring sense of sweetness that seeps up from her pores, invades his nose as he kisses up the base of her neck.

Suckling until he's sure his presence will be left with more than just memories come the rise of the morning's fair light. Her hands tighten against him, nails threatening to dig into the cotton concealing his flesh, until he hears the sharp intake of breath escape past her lips.

"Thomas?" She whispers his name, like it's a dirty little secret finally let free. "Kiss me."

She was strong, but no one was quite strong enough when their flames of desire intertwined with that of another's. Her cave was not a sign of weakness, but rather a sign that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

Pulling away from the soft spot on her neck, Tommy smiles down at her for a split second, before capturing her lips and kissing her like he'd been waiting to do since the day he met her.

She tasted of peppermint and warmth and the slightest tinge of leftover Gin. He let the taste of her wash over his senses, until he was sure she was the sweetest thing he'd tasted in the longest time. He was drunk off of her, he realized, as his mind began to haze and the storm of blistering fire that burned within him with such desire, nearly combusted his very veins.

He'd lusted over her all these months, he'd envisioned what it would be like to run his hands down her frame, to kiss her lips, to lay her down upon his lonely bed and lose himself inside of her, he'd burned in a way he hadn't burned for a woman since Grace. And here he was, finally divulging the urges, finally satisfying the desires and wanton lust over this woman, and the more he kissed her and unraveled her of her beautiful fabrics, the more Tommy began to fear, that she might just become his newest vice.

He'd played the game of life, he'd certainly played the game of restraint and gentlemanly honor and professionalism with her over the past few months, but he was finally playing the game in which he knew perfectly how to win. And never in Tommy Shelby's life, had checkmate felt so good.

A/N: Ahh! Slightly freaking out over just how much I love this piece and how it came together!!😍

This idea came to me so spontaneously one night, starting with the simple desire to write a piece taking place in Tommy's study at night, in front of his large display of books with a very intimate lighting. From there, it blossomed into my want to create a piece of beautiful interaction, bold sexual tension and a very intimate and sexy vibe I haven't explored too many times.

This piece flowed from my fingertips, from the moment I sat down to start writing, it simply poured out of me and ceased to stop until it was completed. But the entire time, I kept impressing and stunning myself with what I was creating and that is truly one of the greatest feelings ever. I worked very hard and tried to keep very conscious of the pace in this one, I didn't want it too rushed, I didn't want it to feel forced and there's something to be said about the intensity in those desire pent moments, that are sometimes more magnetic when prolonged rather than jumping straight into the hot and heavy. ❤

I wanted you to be able to feel the attraction, the lust and desire, the captivation and interest in this piece, while making sure it wasn't the feeling of love at first sight or anything too sappy. I think I was really able to find that happy middle and create something I am very proud of! I hope you all enjoyed this one as much as I loved writing!❤