
~masterlist~ Join me as I ramble into the void about my latest obsessions. 23.
569 posts
Gun Metal And Daisies (Thomas Shelby)- Chapter 14
Gun Metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)- Chapter 14
“How the FUCK did you make porridge taste good?”
Masterlist
Sunshine all the time makes a desert.
While Dorothy slept soundly and heavy in the bed upstairs. Thomas sat for hours on the sofa, nursing a glass of whiskey.
He racked his brain with ideas on everything to do with Bonny.
He thought about where she lived.
He thought about why she lived there.
He thought about how she could live there and still be the Bonny that he knows.
He thought about her, and her stature.
He thought about how he didn't notice straight away.
He thought about the fact that he could just ask around and get her name.
He thought about how doing that could break her trust in him.
And finally, he thought about how to help her.
Thomas had never cared so deeply for someone that wasn't his family. If he was honest, it scared him.
He knew that by getting out of her life, she'd be safe, but he had to be - nay, needed to be selfish.
He needed her.
The night drifted on and Thomas found himself wavering in and out of consciousness.
His body aching to go upstairs and check on her.
It was only when the clock on the mantle struck 2:00 did he push himself off the sofa and stumble up the stairs, his bones aching and his joints creaking with strain.
He opened the slightly ajar door and peeked round.
She was curled up into a tight ball that he doubted could possibly be comfortable. She had her curls strewn over her face, the fringe falling about haphazardly. Thomas knew that if she were awake she'd find herself fussing with the placement of it on her forehead.
Creeping in a bit further, he sat down on the chair next to her bed and just looked at her. Taking in her frame, although she was shrouded by the loose clothes, which Thomas could still not get over, she still looked deathly thin and pale.
He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and smiled slightly.
"This is kind of creepy." Thomas thought to himself, only now catching the fact that he'd been just watching her while she slept.
He got back up and stiffened when a floorboard groaned under his foot.
His eyes darted back to her, he saw her face scrunch up, she dipped her head so her nose was touching her knee. Thomas was baffled by the fact that she could sleep like that and still move her head the next morning.
Maybe she was cold? Thomas didn't know. The only logical thing he could think to do was to take the spare blanket and put it over the duvet that she was sleeping under.
Thomas didn't know if it was the warmth that stopped her shaking or the extra weight, but he sighed in relief when her shaking subsided.
He left the room again, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Going back down the stairs, back to his whiskey, to waste the night away and think about his Bonny.
——
Thomas had not realised that he'd fallen asleep when he woke up that morning to the sound of shuffling upstairs.
For a brief moment he panicked before remembering the events of the previous night.
He cracked his neck and pretended to make himself look busy or lost in thought as he heard light footsteps coming down the stairs. He pretended not to notice her, though he did twitch a bit when the sound briefly stopped.
Though it was followed by the sound of feet slamming down the stairs. Thomas thought she had fallen down the stairs, but was pleasantly surprised when two arms wrapped around his shoulders before he could turn around.
"Good morning!" She rasped excitedly in his ear, squeezing him tight.
Thomas froze. He, for one, was definitely not used to this kind of physical contact. Any physical contact for that matter.
But surely, he found himself relaxing back, "mornin' Bonny. I see you've slept well."
She came around the side of the sofa and sat down next to him, stretching her arms and rubbing her eyes, "yep!"
She settled back down and with that, they settled into silence.
"You hungry?" She peeked over at him.
"You must be very hungry, I imagine." Thomas waved off her question, annoyingly.
"Maybe I am, but you must be hungry."
"If you're hungry then I can go raid the kitchen for food?"
These two were honestly useless. Couldn't make their minds up for shit. If anyone else was there, they surely would have stormed out and made the decision for them.
Huffing at the fact they were getting nowhere, Dorothy stood up, grabbing Thomas' arm and trying her best to pull him up. To which Thomas responded by staring back up amusedly as she feebly attempted to lift the weight of a fully grown man.
"For gods sake, man. Help a girl out!" She squealed when he suddenly jumped up and she lost her balance, still gripping onto his arm.
She shut her eyes as Thomas' arm jerked back and pulled her back up, steadying her, he chuckled mockingly at her.
Once she had recovered, she slapped him on the chest, "meanie!"
Thomas raised an eyebrow at her language and tutted teasingly.
"Right, food it is then. I'll see what I can steal from your kitchen. You must be starvin'!" She marched off determinedly in the direction she hoped was the kitchen
Thomas only watched her walk away, very confused. Wasn't she supposed to be hungry? Isn't that how this works?
Following her into the kitchen as she opened cupboards and tried to find some ingredients to use.
"Go on then, sit down. I'll be done in a jiffy!" She waved over towards the table.
"Yes dear." Thomas chuckled mockingly, to which Dorothy let out a small giggle.
"Aha!" She smiled at the box of oats that she'd found..
Thomas watched her as she fiddled around at the stove, watching her movements as she hummed quietly to herself.
Even though the two were nothing, not even close to a couple, they both shared brief moments of domesticity around each other.
——
Thomas was lost in his thoughts as a bowl was placed down in front of him. A bowl of porridge.
Thomas hated porridge.
He remembered when he was younger and they could barely put anything on the table, for ages, all he could eat was porridge. Plain, bland porridge. It reminded him of when eating was a privilege, not a right.
Thomas hated porridge.
He stared at the bowl with a frown until Dorothy sat in front of him and leaned on her hands on the table, tilting her head up at him.
"Where's your bowl?" Thomas furrowed his eyebrows.
"There was only enough for one portion, so I just made one for you." Dorothy shrugged.
"You haven't eaten anything in three days, Bonny." Thomas frowned at her. He pushed the bowl in her direction.
"Yeah but that's alright. I'm not going to waltz into your home, sleep in your bed AND eat your food. That would be very rude of me."
"It's also rude to refuse food when it's offered to you." Thomas pointed back at her.
"Is this going to become a routine, Bubs?" She slumped out of her chair.
Thomas quirked an eyebrow at her as she dug into a draw and pulled out another spoon.
Thomas understood what she was getting at and chuckled lightly to himself, "we're never gonna eat a full meal at this rate." She shook her head.
Thomas noticed that she hadn't made a move to eat anything yet, and glanced up at her, she only gestures to the bowl saying, "go on, give it a try! I saw the way you looked at it earlier, but I believe I can convince you." She waited impatiently.
Thomas only took a bit on the spoon, he tried his best not to grimace at the mush, but his eye twitched, just a bit.
He decided it was best to just get it over and done with then eat a few more and make sure she ate the rest.
Thomas shoved the spoon in his mouth and for a second he just let the mush sit there.
Thomas, to say the least, was surprised. The porridge was sweeter, it was thick, it was smooth and it confused him.
He swallowed the food and put his spoon down. Dorothy leaned forward expectantly, waiting for an answer.
"How the FUCK did you make porridge taste good?" Thomas could only gush before he stopped himself.
Dorothy leaned back in her chair and smiled smugly. Dorothy didn't have a big ego but she knew where her talents lay, and she, without a doubt, could make anything taste sweet and good if she tried.
"So let me guess, you're an aspiring chef, going for the big leagues?" Thomas picked up her spoon and gestured for her to take it.
Dorothy dug the spoon into the sweet porridge, "would you believe me if I told you I was a horrible cook?" She grinned before scooping the food to her mouth, "I'm only really ok at sweet treats, never had much experience cooking n' that. But I do think I hold the world record for spreading lard on toast."
Thomas let out a small laugh and picked up his spoon again, surprisingly going for another spoonful. Dorothy only grinned and went back to eating.
Thomas thought of the taste of lard. He remembered it when that's maybe all he could get if he wanted something on his bread in the morning.
Thomas hated lard.
It was only then that Thomas leaned back and thought of Dorothy's situation. He hated it.
He didn't pity the woman because that's not what needed to be done. He didn't find it endearing that she needed his help last night. He didn't like the fact that she was so overwhelmingly caring that the idea of feeding herself first, even though she had not eaten in three days, was a preposterous idea. He didn't like that she refused to back away when she realised who he was, she only seemed more comfortable.
Dorothy seemed lost in thought, just as much as he was.
"What's on your mind?" Thomas took another mouthful and leaned back.
Dorothy shrugged, "there's something very important in human bonds that relates to eating. See, I read a book on it a while ago, it's a very primitive thing, eating communally. The logic behind it is that when a person feels comfortable in the environment they're in, they feel safe to eat. People only eat when they know they can put their head down to chew and not get it bitten off. There's just something lovely about small intimate things that we do in our day to day that no one thinks about."
Thomas mulled over her words and found himself agreeing with what she had said.
Nodding his head slowly, "you read a lot then?"
Thomas lit a cigarette as she finished the last spoonful of porridge, "I try my best to read as much as I can to educate myself. After having to leave school, I found that I wanted to learn more. I want to do so many things, Bubs. I want to become a photographer. I want to be what history will call an intellectual. I want to live and be. I know I will not amount to much, cosmically. But maybe, just maybe; if I could change someone's life, for the better; then I know, I will not have lived in vain."
Dorothy stared off into the distance before seemingly snapping back and smiling sheepishly at the information she'd just very unintentionally shared.
Thomas liked her small rambles, it made him want to listen and engage in the conversation. She made him talkative, and he thought he liked it.
"An intellectual then, huh?" Thomas smiled fondly at her. Thomas wanted her dreams to come true.
He'd be lying if he said that he didn't already have plans to help her achieve them.
——
ANOTHER ONE IN THE BAG.
Thanks for the love.
Feedback is always welcome.
See ya next time!
-
eva7ari liked this · 4 years ago
-
whovianmouse liked this · 5 years ago
-
sawendel liked this · 5 years ago
-
smitten-may liked this · 5 years ago
-
ubaxyada liked this · 5 years ago
-
yesdruidess liked this · 5 years ago
-
marvelschriss liked this · 5 years ago
-
finn-shelbys-bulldog liked this · 5 years ago
-
angelofdarkness2468 liked this · 5 years ago
-
m222l222 liked this · 5 years ago
-
anattashori-desu liked this · 5 years ago
More Posts from Wordlessbabbling
Gun Metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)- Chapter 17
“A dinner of bread and butter makes the world go round.”
Masterlist
Watch carefully,
The magic that occurs,
When you give a person,
Just enough comfort,
To be themselves
Upon entering the quaint house, Thomas observed the room, he saw the cobwebs clouding the corners, he saw the peeling wallpaper where there was even wallpaper. The bricks, had no paint over them and had holes in them.
The furniture was slim to none and every room apart from the bedrooms and bathrooms, it would seem, all became one room.
Thomas noticed how he never left the cold temperature from outside, there was no fire lit and there seemed to be a draft gliding over his feet and past his ankles.
Before Thomas could fully absorb the contents of the house, he heard a squeal from his side as Dorothy, who he didn't realise was still holding his hand, let go and ran towards the armchair across the room, "Mama!" She charged for a creaky old armchair that didn't look to comfortable.
Occupying the chair was a pale woman whose face seemed long and drawn in on itself. She had bruises under her eyes that looked like they'd been there for years. She looked fragile like crumbling wood or an empty old house.
"You're awake! You're out of bed!" Dorothy tackled the lady gently in a hug.
Thomas notes that the woman had curly hair just like Bonny's, but Bonny had the same dirty blonde hair colour as her father. Thomas assumed this was Bonny's sick mother.
Bonny had seemingly forgot about her fathers or Thomas' presence. Thomas only stared at the girl as she chatted enthusiastically at her tired mother, who appeared to be, though sick, very happy at her daughters presence.
Thomas was clapped on the back, "Right then, they'll be there for hours, them. Want a drink?" Bonny's father was apparently not fazed by the gangster in his house. In fact, he was rather welcoming.
"Wouldn't want to intrude." Thomas bowed his head a bit to be respectful. He didn't usually do this, but with the importance of Bonny in his life, he wanted to make a good impression.
"Ah, none of that. Ya can stay for one drink! Today's a day of celebration, Darcy's getting better! Ain't been a day like this in months!" Bonny's father stalked off somewhere and Thomas went back to his thoughts.
"Months? It's been like this for months?" Thomas could only think of what his Bonny had been dealing with all this time.
He found himself angry. Not at her, but at the world. How could the universe treat a girl like her so poorly? How could the universe not put food on the plate of the wise; or not the race to the swift; or the wealth to the hard-workers?
"And who's this young lad in my home, Poppet?" Bonny's mum peered over her shoulder.
Dorothy gasped and clapped her hands. She rushed over to Thomas and pulled him by the forearm towards her mother.
"Bubs-err-Thomas, this is my mother, Mama, this is Thomas." Dorothy once again winced at her words.
"Call me Darcy." She nodded her head in Thomas' direction, not shaking his hand. He assumed it was for fear of spreading something rather than his name, so he didn't take it personally.
"Call me Tommy." Thomas nodded back.
"So how did you two meet? You've never brought any friend home? Not even your old mate Matilda." Darcy inquired.
"Ah, well you see mum..."
Dorothy went on to tell the story of how they had met, leaving out the gun to her face, of course.
Once her father had come back through with a bottle of rum and cracked it open, the conversation flowed more, though Bonny didn't drink, it didn't stop her from banging on about how she came to meet Thomas.
Darcy had a fond smile on her face as Dorothy made big enthusiastic gestures. Dean, her fathers name, had also leaned forward in the conversation, just happy at the atmosphere.
Thomas only leaned back with his glass, laughing along to the story and memories of the past few weeks. He found himself at peace again. This was a family home, and it felt so warm and homely despite no fire lit. The family was just warm and put together.
Thomas loved it.
"-so in other words, first and second impressions of dear Tommy, were horrendous and it was only the third time when I decided he was no longer and arsehole!" Dorothy finished the story with a wide grin.
Darcy threw her head back in bliss and jubilance as her daughter retold the tale.
Thomas also found himself bent over laughing, "me? An arsehole? I've never been so insulted!" Thomas put a mocking hand on his heart. The family only laughed harder at the antics of the two.
"Ah, look at the time. I better go to make some food for everyone!" Dorothy stood up, patting down her new trousers, the story of which Thomas laughed the hardest at.
"Oh yes, I should be going then." Thomas stood up abruptly, gathering his senses as he momentarily fell out of the warm family bubble.
"You won't stay?" Darcy stared up at him, a small smile on her face.
"Oh come on, son. You can't bail on us now. We've still got the rest of the evening to go!" Dean chuckled and stood next to Thomas.
Thomas often found that the term, "son" directed towards him to be a death wish, but in this moment, in this home: He was not Thomas Shelby. He was Tommy. He was Bubs. He was not a killer or gangster or anything that was said about him outside these walls.
Dorothy throughout the whole exchange had said nothing. Thomas decided that maybe it was okay to stay for a meal then head off.
"What we got then, Da?"
"Ah! Y'know what? I think we 'ave some butter?" Dean called from the living area.
"Bread 'n butter it is." Dorothy sighed.
"Y'know what they say, a dinner of bread and butter makes the world go round!"
"No one says that, Da."
Casual conversation resumed while Dorothy was shuffling around in the kitchen area. Thomas found that the married couple in front of him were a bit in their own world so he decided to go see what Bonny was doing.
Stalking into the kitchen, he found Bonny sifting through a cupboard filled with random food items. She pulled out a very small block of butter and a loaf of bread.
She examined the bread in comparison to the butter and got out a tin of lard as well.
Thomas watched from the corner, Bonny, seemingly in her own world, humming quietly.
Thomas now recognised some of the songs she sang. He recalled his mother singing them to him when he couldn't sleep at night. They were in Romani, and the words flowed together like a birdsong.
Dorothy cut up a few large pieces of bread and put them over the stove tray.
Though she only put three on, she got to work with separating the butter, after realising that maybe it won't be enough, she whined quietly, a sound Thomas heard like a stab to the heart. He still did not move.
After the bread was toasted she quickly took to taking the hot coals and trying to extract what was left with her tongs and put them quickly back in the large tin next to the stove.
She tried melting the butter a bit to help it spread and it seemed to work a bit, but she still didn't have enough.
With what was left, she mixed the softened butter with some of the lard and spread it on the third piece of toast and with the last, she just placed lard on it.
"It'll have to do..." He heard her mumble.
"Foods ready!" Dorothy called behind her. Dean and Darcy shuffled over to the very small table with only three chairs. Dean had an arm around Darcy's waist, though she was using him for support, it was clear she was also just happy to be in the arms of her husband again.
Dorothy looked around, trying to find another chair or stool.
As she brushed past Thomas, he grabbed onto her arm and pulled her close, "you could just share a seat with me, you had no problem doing it earlier." Thomas smirked teasingly at her. He saw the opportunity and took it without hesitation.
Dorothy only huffed our a laugh and smacked his shoulder while Thomas only grinned at her.
She came back with a very un-sturdy looking stool and perched on it.
The family got to work eating, Thomas noted that Dorothy gave her father the butter and lard piece of toast, which he didn't seem to mind and gave herself the lard one. Thomas only sighed, he knew how stubborn she was with this stuff.
Conversation stated back up as Dorothy leaned closer into Thomas' side and he steadied an arm on the back of the slightly rocking stool to keep her stable.
Thomas found himself thoroughly enjoying the night and just having fun. Something that he really hadn't had for a while. Thomas rued the day that all this would ever have to end. But for now, he kept these moments locked safe and close.
Because it was pleasant. It was nice. And she was perfect.
——
FAMILY FEEELS
Thanks for the love.
Feedback and comments are wanted.
See ya next time!

YOU GUYS NEED TO WATCH PERRIER’S BOUNTY.

I’ll be honest, I started watching it cause Cillian’s in it (can you blame me?), but soon after it started I just got so invested.
Not to mention, it’s got some fuckin bangers of lines in there which I’m writing down, cause that shit hit the nail on the head.
Its GREAT. None of the characters are likeable, but you still can’t help but root for all of them. Everyone’s morally grey and it’s just chef kiss MWAH.
I HIGHLY recommend it!

Hey there!I just read all the parts of Gun Metal and Daisies on Wattpad and I adore it so much! Dorothy is such a well written character! Can't wait for more! 🌹
Hi! Thank you so much!
There’s going to be another chapter up there tonight so keep an eye out! 😁