The morning frost that permeated the early spring atmosphere, nearly made your veil shimmer as though a thousand delicate diamonds were woven into the very fabric of lace, cascading down your tendrils in an ethereal flow of ivory linen and frozen breath. The season blossomed with the prospect of spring, as the snow had melted from the cobblestone and the soft sounds of nature returned to the countryside. But within the confines of Small Heath, between the smoke stacks and the cold brick and the forever burning stain of coal, winter persisted.

It's presence formidable as it engulfed your each and every breath, with the sharp sting of a cold that nearly met the surface of your bones. Birmingham was left behind in the bitter season of melancholy grey and perpetual frigidness, as if Mother Nature had forgotten all about the civilization down on the rough and solemn streets of Watery and Garrison Lane. Leaving you all to watch the rest of the Earth erupt into budding warmth and shades of new life that erased any trace of the winter's misery.

The sky above you remained grey, an ashen hue enveloping the atmosphere like a single breath of smoke, spread out across the city for miles to come. The sun, having risen at the break of dawn, settled somewhere amidst the abyss of unrelenting grey, without a single hope of shining through the haze. Not even the clouds, that had carried with it last night's heavy rainstorm, were identifiable. The sky was bleak, as though it was the only sight appropriate for the city where God hadn't wished to dip his hands, but there was something about it today, that you found utterly beautiful.

For even as the sun did not shine through the haze, illuminating the cobblestone below in a generous warmth and guiding light, the depressing atmosphere did not open up with the fall of vengeful rain. There was a calm that emanated from the still and silent sky, the blanket of ashen grey quiet and undisturbed, allowing those below a breath not only tainted by the bitter spring cold, but the slightest hint of tranquility.

The night before, the heavens had shaken with the harsh roar of flooding torrents of endless rain, thunder booming throughout the clouds, with the sharp crack of lightening breaking up the darkness of the twilight hour. It pounded the pavement, soaking any poor soul who lingered in the streets to the very bone. Rolling down the old and worn brick siding of your flat, all but concealing your view as it streaked in currents down your windowpane and carried on for the entirety of the night. For just as dusk settled over the city, the thunder rumbled in the distance and approached with the incoming downpour, that washed over the cobblestone just as the lasting evidence of daylight became extinguished from the sky.

But just as dawn arose, after an endless assault of viscous rain that echoed through each and every hour of the night and early morning, the rain subsided.

All that was left behind, were puddles mudding up the streets and the crisp scent that lingered in the first frozen breath you inhaled. It had not been cold enough for the droplets falling from the open heavens to turn to that of flurries and sparkling snowflakes and yet, as you exited your flat that morning, it felt as though the temperatures dropped even further. That if you were to shed a tear, right there on the spot, it would have fallen to the cleansed cobblestone in the delicate flutter of a snowflake. But beside the puddles and the lingering scent of dampness in the air, what remained in the morning after, was the breath of calm that had bewilderingly exhaled over the city.

Your heels had splashed through the unavoidable puddles lining the cracks and crevices of Watery Lane and yet, you hadn't a single care for the droplets that soiled the very tips of your ivory Mary Janes. If it hadn't been so frigid that day, you were convinced the shoes would've more than likely been hanging from your fingertips, as the pads of your toes pattered bare on the cobblestone.

You met him behind the building where your families had gathered, ushering their endless plethora of children and kin out of the doors and back towards home where the real party could begin, their echoing shouts of commotion and laughter drifting all the way to the back alleyway behind the venue. But as you rounded the corner, all noise that punctured the atmosphere ceased to exist, as though it had all but vanished from the world and from your sense of sound.

For leaning against the deep maroon and Tera-Cota brick, Tommy Shelby stood smoking a cigarette and looking just as breathtaking under the ashen haze of a melancholy sky, as he did in the brighter glow of surrounding candlelight and lanterns that illuminated the ceremony.

You'd known Tommy all your life and it seemed with each passing year, that his youthfulness never appeared to fade. But as you approached him, listening to the quiet echo with the soft patter of your heels against the rain sodden cobblestone, he had never looked more grown than he did in that very moment. Adorning not only a suit of the softest charcoal grey, the tweed muted and a gentle hue, but that of a new title. Husband.

Tommy had watched you grow up and in turn, you'd observed him mature over the years into the man who stood before you today. He'd seen you when you were nothing more than a bright eyed girl, hopping along barefoot on the cobblestone of Watery Lane, trying to keep up with the Shelby brothers who'd rather embraced you as though you were family. He'd seen you with matted tresses and worn out dresses. He'd seen you blossom from a young school girl he walked home, just so that he might get time with you by himself, to a young woman who's beauty stunned him in ways he'd never experienced in all of his years.

But you'd never felt more grown, more mature, more of a woman than you did walking towards him in your sweeping gown of shimmering ivory. For you were no longer just another gypsy down on Watery Lane, wrapped up in the life of the man you loved, but a wife.

His lips curled upward around the burning stick of smoking tobacco, but his smile glinted brighter in the beaming reflection of his gaze. Tommy's eyes soaking in the sight of you as though he might never get the chance to see you again, pressing this moment into his memory for safe and permanent keeping, raked up and down your frame.

Admiring in a more intimate moment, as it was only the two of you now in this abandoned alleyway, the dress that cascaded down your frame as if God had all but gone and dropped one of his angels right down in the clutches of Small Heath. Allowing Tommy the chance to keep you for himself before letting the good Lord even realize you'd slipped from the heavens. Tommy couldn't determine as he admired you in your wedding gown, if he could bring himself to strip the elegant fabric from your flesh, all for it to line the worn wooden floors of his bedroom come the certain fall of night.

You reached him with a final pace and gentle step, as he withdrew the cigarette from between his lips, letting a strong stream of smoke funnel through before they twisted into a smile that was infectious. For you could feel the way it met your heart, settling upon your bones and the depths of your very soul.

Tommy's smile, was like seeing the entire world spread out in front of your eyes, for it's beauty left you breathless. Making you feel as though you were soaring and that the happiness that exuded his expression, was attainable and possible for each and every soul that wandered these streets. It filled you with hope, his smile, his bright and wide smile that showed off his teeth and the extent of the genuine emotion that filled his chest.

It had been his smile that you'd fallen in love with, his eyes being what drew you towards him, leaving you without a single hope of being able to live life without him now that you knew him, and it had been the way he loved you, that made a part of your very soul sing his name.

"Mrs. Shelby." His smile permeated the tone of his voice, low with the Birmingham rumble that it always held and yet, there was an exuberance that soared within the greeting that fell from his lips like the wispy trails of fading smoke. His heel stubbing out the cigarette he'd swiftly flicked to the pavement, closing the very last ounce of space lingering between your bodies as he took half a pace forward. The tweed he adorned, although nearly matching the shade that enveloped the sky above, accentuated his allure and the pure beauty of his gaze. For the fabric remained simple and soft in its muted tone, to allow for all of Tommy's handsome and breathtaking features to stand out even more than they already did.

"Mr. Shelby." Your smile mirrored his own and you feared for the sake of your aching jaw, that the expression that spread across your flesh might never fade. Tommy's hands slid along the skin of your cheeks, his hands remarkably warm as your own were left shaking like a wind blown branch at your sides. Cradling your face tenderly in the grasp of his palms, you peered up at Tommy through the sprawl of your lashes and it was staring into the most beautiful abyss.

For his orbs were that of a chiseled out sapphire, cerulean and beaming with a hue that overwhelmed his irises like the rushing tide of the sea. They didn't seem real somedays, staring deep into the blue that sat within his sockets like that of stolen gems, smuggled from those who couldn't appreciate the beauty in which they held and kept them safe in plain sight for all those who looked at Tommy, to enjoy.

For Tommy would never know the undeniable strength his eyes held, the power in which they inflicted and exuded as their cerulean waves made it possible for the very soul to become lost within them. They could soften like that of melting azure or they could harden like a sheen of impenetrable ice blewn across the surface, they could glisten like the moon hovering above the rippling current of the canal, the waves of deep cerulean could churn like the prior evening's storm but what you loved most about Tommy's eyes, was the way in which he used them to see you. Fully and unashamedly, he saw you for all that you were, all that you had been and he saw you for all that you would be.

He tasted of smoke and smelled of the cologne rich with spices that clung to his flesh and wove its very essence into the stitching of the fabric he adorned, as he kissed you. Tommy's lips, warm in a way that shouldn't have been possible with the surrounding cold, leaving your own trembling and softly blue to his watchful eye, captured your own as though he continued to vow within that kiss to always keep you safe. That he would always keep you dry and warm. That he would be there, always, to kiss away the cold that threatened to invade your bones and the droplets that trailed down your cheeks. Tommy kissed you, for the second time that day, as if he spoke in that single act, all of the words he could not express aloud.

Despite the cold that rattled your bones and made your knees shake in an effort to keep still, you would've stayed out in that alleyway with Tommy as you were all day if you could. In your own little moment, your own little bubble of love and unscathed intimacy, where you were no longer the two lovers you were when dawn rose over the horizon that morning, but that of husband and wife.

You could've stayed there forever, with his arms wrapped around your frame, holding you close not only to share the warmth that radiated from him, as though he'd been the person who'd stolen away the heat of the missing sun, but in a way that made you feel like Tommy never wished to let you go.

You could've stayed there forever, enveloped in the tweed of his jacket as on the walk back down the cobblestone, he'd swung the fabric across your shivering shoulders and rubbed up and down your arms until you felt embers of heat sparking across the surface of your frozen flesh. Engulfing you in not only new found heat, but his very scent that left your senses weak and enthralled in the notes they left behind. You could've stayed there forever, with the man you loved ever since he was fifteen and you were twelve.

You could've stayed there forever... and as summer rolled around and you found yourself standing upon a train platform, waving goodbye to the man who owned your very heart as he went off with his brothers to fight in a war for his country... you wished more than anything that you had.

"That was a good day."

Tommy's voice startles you, appearing like that out of thin air, enveloping the atmosphere of the silent bedroom in a low ring of a Birmingham infused tone. It was quiet, his voice, falling from his lips as though it lingered on the line between an exhale and a deep contemplation. But perhaps, it was a mixture of both, for his tone carried with it an essence of bitter nostalgia and sweetened remembrance.

Your head snapped up and your heels turned almost immediately on the wooden panels of the bedroom floor, as the sudden puncture of his voice entered the stilled air, your gaze falling upon Tommy's stance in the doorway. You would've described the way he leaned his side against the doorframe, with his arms crossed loosely over his chest while his ankle rested over the other, relaxed but it wouldn't have fit him. It couldn't fit him, not anymore. For there was no relaxation for a man like him, there were simply the moments in life when he sat and caught his breath, only to start up again when the silence began to amplify the demons that remained quiet by keeping busy.

The afternoon bled through the windowpane, with the thin linen curtains pulled away from the glass, as to allow for the faintest hint of daylight to bathe the walls in a source of natural light. Falling futile however, as the cloud coverage and persistent haze of ever churning smoke, left the early spring season appearing more like that of a melancholy winter embrace.

Tommy stood in his predictable attire, charcoal tweed tailored to utter perfection on his strong physique, while a cap lined with the glinting edge of razor blades accentuated his scalp like that of a king's crown. Concealing the soft sweep of his raven locks, shaven edges and towards the very bottom of his skull left to wandering eyes as Tommy always wore his cap low upon his forehead. Obscuring his eyes from those who looked to him and casting a shadow across the lines of his stilled and stoic expression.

You watch as Tommy sweeps the end of a tightly wrapped white stick across his lower lip, before striking a match and igniting the cigarette. All the while, never letting his eyes leave you. But perhaps, it hadn't been your solemn expression, illuminated by the pale daylight, that drew his attention. But that of the photograph clutched tightly between your fingers, for his words addressed the day residing within the ink of black and white and you felt as your own gaze dropped back down to stare at the sight of a happier time, a happier day, a happier man.

It was a small photograph, nearly the size of your palm flattened out, but over the years the edges curled and creases ran over the image like lines on a folded map. Droplets of your shed tears warped the paper, the salt of your sadness all but soaking into the very foundation as if it were the very rain that had fallen in that day's early morning hours.

The photo told two stories, the image spread for your eyes to wistfully observe, but within the worn material that spoke of the years you gripped that photograph to your chest. Clutching it as you sat pews deep in the church where you'd lit candles for the men off fighting, holding it close to your heart as you prayed with all of your strength that God might just spare the man you love. The tears absorbed into the black and white image, having fallen for more years than you ever thought you'd have to cry over your husband's absence and the surface where the sight of his face, youthful and blissfully beautiful resided, was nearly worn through from all of the lonely nights you'd brushed your thumb against him, as though through the page you might just feel the familiar warmth of his flesh and find the brilliant blue hue hidden within ink of ebony and grainy gray.

The photograph made you smile when your eyes fell upon it, but in the very same pull, tears clouded your vision. For the love of that day, the happiness the exuded from that of pure paper, was palpable. But so was the notion that that day, your wedding day, felt like a different lifetime and perhaps, one with an entirely different man.

For Tommy was different when he made it home, perhaps, you'd always been foolish to believe that he'd return home unscathed in the head and in the very core of his soul. But the man you sent off, who had his youthful charm and his melodic laughter that for weeks after his feet left Birmingham soil, you swore you could still hear echoing down the cobblestone, never quite came back.

Tommy was still beautiful, too beautiful for the way in which the devil used his hands for his deeds of violence, but his beauty had hardened. It was pained and tortured, for his orbs of crystalized cerulean that washed over you like the current of the canal, were cold in way you'd never witnessed them. As though there had been a life residing within the very waves that churned with such a formidable blue, but as you stared into the eyes you had feared you'd never see again in this life, you could see the way something had perished and left his gaze drowning in the midst of his own ocean.

They spoke a thousand words that Tommy's lips would never form and yet, they burned holes into your flesh as he stared down at you, as if the words that they knew, were enough to tear a man apart. It was like watching the draining of a single soul, for there had been a light around Tommy when you'd sent him off but now, he was encased in a darkening shadow that weighed his soul to the ground and threatened to stomp it to dust.

Tommy returned home to you and for that, you would forever be indebted to God above, but the man you married the spring before he went off to France, only shreds of him made it back. For it was like watching a walking shell of that man you knew, identifiable to the eye and you still felt the same pull in your heart when you looked to him, but war had left him broken and empty. It changed him. Those tunnels, they took his faith, they took his hope, they took the foundation of his character and twisted and pulled it apart, giving it back to him in mangled pieces he had to sew back together with his own two hands. He was still your Tommy and yet, he was a stranger to you.

"It was freezing cold," The timid tone in your voice does not go unnoticed, as it pierces through the stilled atmosphere, left void of sensations except that of your racing heart and the soft exhales of Tommy's breath. "I remember I could barely keep me hands from shaking."

You didn't have to say a word that day, when your body began to tremble in the surrounding cold as though it might just go settle upon the surface of your bones, Tommy saw the first sight of goosebumps erupting down the flesh left exposed to the elements and stripped his own coat off and wrapped it around your shoulders. Engulfing you in the strong scent of tobacco smoke and the comforting tones of his intoxicating cologne, along with the warmth of not only the soft wool, but that of Tommy's body heat that had been absorbed into the very threads of fabric.

You hadn't had to ask and he hadn't had to collect you into his arms and warm you further, as you walked down the cobblestone in a slow and comforting embrace. But he did. Warming you, like Tommy Shelby had the power to melt the very cold from your body and banish it from the atmosphere threatening to replace it.

"But the rain stopped that morning, I think it stopped just for us."

The soft twitch of a smile, tugging at the corners of your lips with a tentative touch, pricked your eyes with the familiar burn of tears. A glean across your vision made of reminiscing happiness and aching sadness, a bewildering combination that swelled the strings of your beating heart, all the while, threatening to snap them with each passing beat.

"We splashed through the puddles on the way back to the house," The tears contradicted the smile that stretched across your wistful expression, but you couldn't help the sign that spread across your trembling lips. For your memories of the cold rain water, left over from the dark evening storms, splashing up as your heels stomped through just enough that the train of your gown became dampened and soiled with the touch of the Small Heath streets, were as vivid in your mind as if it hadn't been nearly five years that had passed you both by. "but not a single raindrop fell from the sky."

"And I remember," Your voice hitches as the recollection of Tommy's voice on that day filters through your head, echoing as though the words were not that of lingering threads of a memory, but falling fresh from his lips in this very room. "I remember the way our vows froze in the air it was so cold. Even indoors, it was like they might just linger there like a cloud of smoke."

"But I remember just how warm your lips were, even as the edges of me own were turning blue. Yours, they had a source of warmth that I couldn't get enough of."

You could've kissed Tommy forever, if time would've only allowed in that moment, on that day. For kissing Tommy Shelby, was like feeling the very epitome of love. The way he cradled your face, with frozen fingers brushing against your flesh sparking embers beneath the surface from his touch. His lips descending and capturing your own as if he hadn't in himself to restrain any longer, for there was a hunger in his kiss and yet, a tenderness that nearly caused you to melt amidst the surrounding cold.

You could've kissed Tommy forever that day.

Blinking away the tears clouding your vision, feeling as a single tear dips down from the flutter of your saturated lashes and begins the agonizing trail down your cheek. Pursing your lips together, you nod your head faintly in thought, before whispering softly. "It was a good day."

Perhaps, you knew that Tommy had left his place in the doorway and had begun his journey towards you, but as his own lips parted and allowed words to fall in the lowest breath possible, it startled you. For his shadow had encased your being, a shade banishing any sign of the day light and engulfing you in a certain chill permeated with the intoxicating blend of fresh smoke and spicy sandalwood. "And yet, you shed tears over it."

You hadn't wanted Tommy to see you this way, vulnerable and raw, as though you hadn't a single surface to conceal the underlying ache. You'd been so diligent in obscuring the extent of your pain this past year, ever since Tommy's feet made it back on Birmingham soil. For you didn't feel you had any right to suffering, not after what Tommy had gone through in France, the things he'd witnessed, the things that he'd done, the wounds upon his mind that hadn't even begun to heal.

Tommy came back tortured and broken and yet, a pillar of strength that made you feel undeniably weak in comparison. You hadn't a right to cry at night, when your dreams weren't plagued with images of war and death and demons that haunted Tommy relentlessly. You hadn't a right to feel such pain upon your heart, when Tommy's wounds were both visible to the eye and invisible as they lingered upon the surface of his tormented mind and aching soul. You hadn't a right to feel a sense of loss, not when God had brought Tommy back to you like you'd prayed.

And so, you remained strong and steady for Tommy, but something in this moment, the rush of memories and emotions that were amplified with his formidable presence, broke down the strength you'd tried so hard to build up for him and for yourself.

"I just want to know," Perhaps, it was the tears lodged in the base of your throat that halted your words or maybe, it was simple the professing of an aching desire aloud for your husband to hear, that filled you with trepidation and doubt. "that you still want me, that you still need me."

"That you still... love me like you did then."

Your eyes left the image of two young souls, madly and perhaps foolishly in love, and flickered up to meet the blinding scrutiny of Tommy's cerulean gaze. They were words that threatened to tear your very heart apart, as if they were wounds upon the muscle that continued to beat furiously in the core of your chest, but a year he'd been back now and you had to admit them. If not to Tommy alone, then aloud for yourself to hear loud and clear. You hated to think them, you hated to share them, imagining the infliction upon Tommy and yet, you couldn't help but feel the way in which you did.

For you knew Tommy still loved you, you knew that your heart still continued to beat for him and him alone, but things were different now. Tommy was no longer the boy from the photograph, starry-eyed and blissful and perhaps, you were no longer the girl from the photograph either. War had changed him and in turn, it had changed you as well. You only wished to know, if your love was still enough.

Tommy only had to step forward a pace, plucking the cigarette from between his lips and balancing it between his fingers, his hands reaching forward. A breath falling from his lips, through the thinnest part in the full and pouted flesh, a stream of steady smoke and warmth tainted with the faint bite of mint. But the flesh of his palms were warm, pads slightly calloused but undeniably soft. They slid over the skin of your cheeks, through the burning trails of tears that left behind streaks of red and salt induced inflammation, until they flattened and cradled you with a careful touch.

"Hey," Tommy's breath fans across your flesh as his face lingers barely an inch or two away from your own. His gaze of strong cerulean, nearly overwhelming as they draw you into his steady current, holding your attention there amongst the waves.

Tommy's left hand retreats from your cheek, only for a moment, as he reaches down and pulls the photograph from your hands and sets down upon the mahogany dresser behind you. Returning his palm to your cheek, before you could even begin to feel the vacancy settle in a sudden chill. Tommy's touch, warm and tender, holds you in a way that is strong and stern. Forcing you to stare straight into his eyes, as though you might just witness the conviction and true source of passion that floods his words.

"You brought me home. You, kept me alive. I'm always going to need you."

And there, in that very moment when you felt yourself nearly crumbling in the arms of the man you'd tried to stay strong for, Tommy expressed something that he'd never once admitted before. Perhaps, not even to himself until now. For as he stared down at you, with an expression of overwhelming certainty and strong emotion, Tommy realized that even as God had abandoned the men down in the trenches and the tunnels that nearly buried him alive, it had never been the holy hand that kept him alive. It had been you, all that time, it had been you that kept him alive.

The thought of seeing your face, illuminated by the light of your own shimmering gaze and your sweet smile that pierced through the shell of his exterior and filled him with a warmth only you could produce. The thought of feeling the touch of your lips against his own, tasting the peppermint and the faintest trace of strawberry, while his senses inhaled the aroma of lavender that followed him all the way down into the tunnels. The thought of hearing your voice, not just in his memories or the few moments of slumber, but in front of him where he could practically see the words falling past your smiling lips. It had been the thought of coming home to you, that made Tommy continue to fight. No matter how much easier death seemed to be.

His words, saturated in candor and warmth that permeated down to your very bones, wrapped themselves around you and held you close. For they had been the very words you had searched for, the very notion falling from his own lips, in his own voice, that you had yearned for and yet, they were more than what you needed.

Tommy Shelby had the profound ability to say everything in only a few words, as if all the others were futile and he could say all that he felt in a matter of a few admissions. He didn't waste words, he didn't speak what he knew you'd want to hear. When Tommy spoke, it was that what he had to say, came from himself. From his own beliefs, his own feelings, his own heart and soul.

Your lashes flutter together, squeezing out the lasting tears that fall and absorb straight into the flesh of Tommy's hands and you melt into the touch of his palm. "I love you Tommy."

Tommy didn't pull his hands away and he didn't force you to open your eyes, instead, Tommy simply stepped forward and brushed his lips against your forehead. Allowing the overwhelming warmth of his touch to seep into your flesh as he kissed you intimately. "And I you, Mrs. Shelby."

Tipping your chin upwards, you reopen your eyes and peer up at Tommy for a split moment, before leaning forward. His lips found your own without fail and they embraced you without a second of doubt and for a split moment, it felt as though you were kissing the man you'd sent off to France. But the deeper his touch became, you realized that you were kissing the man you loved, the man Tommy was today. You couldn't keep kissing your past or hoping that that man may resurrect from the clay, but you found that you could kiss your future.

A/N: This one got me in my feels for sure!❤😭

I fell in love with the idea for this piece, a love story starting with pre-war Tommy and eventually continuing after he came home and the shift that would undeniably be there in the relationship. I loved getting to write the first half, exploring the soft and romantic freedom I think writing pre-war Tommy allows, but I also enjoyed sliding back down into the current day and the Tommy we all know now. The Tommy that came back from France and creating a piece that blended the two in an angsty romance and bittersweet type of way.

I'm very happy with how this piece turned out. It's certainly different than some of my past ones and there were a few moments I stumbled in piecing it together, but I'm so happy and content with what I've created here and I can only hope that you all were able to feel the emotion I tried to weave into my writing, that you were able to see the scenes and that you all enjoyed it!❤