#michael gray imagine

• made for display, part one. thomas shelby x reader

summary: a widely known performer seems to catch the attention of a gang leader who can’t seem to get her out of his head

warning/s: swearing, drinking, really bad writing because i don’t want to revise my old writing, smoking, harassment, and slight violence

slater’s note: this was originally a wattpad book of mine (just slightly edited) with an original character (kiera knightly as a faceclaim) but y’know, let me post it here

you love the way people stare at you even when they have no reason to. their eyes could simply be wandering the room and then land on you for no reason and just stick there.

you loved it because it gave you some form of power that no one could seem to place. the attention they fed you reflected off of you and gave you a glowing effect, attracting more eyes. it was a mentality really; no one could be you, no one could beat you, there was no like you.

however, the attention came to be a bit much when it came to certain men, especially men like harvey lucas. a man who made constant passes at you and when rejected; he made other equally indecent men make passes at you.

there was a constant growing of discomfort that would just form in the pit of your stomach each time he came into your vision. you just couldn’t avoid him no matter how hard you tried, he always found his way to you.

you made money by playing piano at the hudson; a large ballroom that was open every night, and had you play every saturday. you made good money but you also made good impressions on some of the men that would watch you, making it easy for harvey lucas to find someone to force on you.

you leaned against the copper bar rail with a glass of wine in hand as you observed the men and women that swung along to the music together.

a small smile of amusement formed on your face as you continued to watch until it was suddenly dropped when you saw the eager face of harvey from the corner of your eye; he was looking for someone.

he was looking for you.

you quickly adjusted yourself off the bar railing, setting down the glass half full of thick red wine before pushing yourself into the crowd of dancing people in hopes his eyes wouldn’t catch you.

you looked around frantically, looking for someone to hide behind or to just to talk to so you could drown out harvey who was soon to find you. it was always better with the company of another person, it always made it hard for the man to push on his abrasive words.

your eyes land on a man who, conveniently, was looking right at you. you almost smirk but he slowly diverts his eyes to somewhere else with a blank expression, almost thinking you wouldn’t notice him if he was subtle, but it was too late, he was already quick pray.

you glided across the slick polished wooden floors to the man who stood to the side with a glass of whiskey.

you smile when his eyes find their way back to you when you’re only five feet away. he seems unaffected, as if he expected you to come around eventually, like this was his plan the whole time, even as he had no idea who you were.

and you smiled to yourself knowing he was very well unaware that you had no intention in sleeping with him, but only to escape from the drooling men that chased after you.

“do you dance?”

maybe you liked him, chose him because he wasn’t drooling all over you, and of course that’s the way things go? you desire the ones who don’t desire you.

he nods slowly and always hesitantly, taking a sip of the drink in his hand, not offering you any verbal response. but you take that as an opening to drag him onto the dance floor as he wasn’t speaking; wasn’t protesting.

eyes seemed to land on the two of you, including the ones of harvey who was after you. you smiles to yourself as you can see the disappointment clouding his features from the corner of your eye.

thank god.

thomas shelby reluctantly places his hand on your hip as well as lacing his fingers with yours. he purses his lips while studying your features as your eyes dart around the room, as if your anxiety was turned to a high and he found that strange.

“these people, mr. shelby, they take great interest in you,” you mumble while studying other people and the way they look at you, no, the way they look at him.

“who are you?”

you finally look to him, finding his icy eyes that seem to stare into your soul. they make you lightly shiver, but you keep your composure, slightly smiling to hide the fear that started to creep into the back of your mind.

you were a fool to consider him as a dance partner so lightly.

his eyebrows were raised high, “how do you know who i am?”

“i don’t.”

he leaves your eyes, looking at the crowds of people who you were referring to, and he frowns at your incorrect observation.

“they’re all staring at you.”

thomas has never seen you a day of his life until now. it took him on edge on how well you seemed to know him for no reason, but it’s as if he forgets how notorious him and his brothers are.

“they’re staring at the both of you.”

you closed your eyes tightly at the voice, leaving tommy all the more confused. he formed his lips in a tight line glancing at the man who stood uncomfortably close to the two of you who continued to dance to the music.

“fuck off, eh? harvey,” you mumbled, your eyes wandering around the cream colored room.

“wouldn’t you like that, huh, y/n?”

thomas looks between the two of you, loosening his grip on you and you notices right away, your head flipping to him. you give him a desperate look that he sees a lot from woman.

you didn’t want him to leave you to another conversation with the man that continued to stand next to you in an awkward stance.

but thomas fully lets go of you, nodding to the man named “harvey”.

you bite the inside of your cheek as you watch the man smooth down the front of his nice three-piece suit while walking away, back to his scotch.

“you look nice.”

you scoff, marching back to the bar where your alcoholic drink also awaited.

maybe, you thought, maybe if i act like he’s not here, he’ll go away.

but he didn’t. he continued to talk about the hotel room he had up in the hudson and how he was ready to go up at anytime.

“harvey, you really have no idea how much i’d like to strangle you right now,” you mumbled, connecting the tip of your wine glass to your lips.

you glanced his way while you take in the thick liquid down your throat. he thinks while looking at his shoes before looking back up to you.

he comes in really close to where his lips are connected to your ear, “i’d prefer to be the one who strangles while fucking you senseless.”

you could feel your blood boiling to the point you couldn’t even think, so you smashed your wine glass over the top of his head.

navigation

@thecraziestcrayon@transias@cc13723things@heyitsmeimdead@nyx3028

• You grew up with the Shelby family after your father’s death. He worked  for the Shelby’s and when he was murdered by an enemy, Polly took you under her wing. 
• Through your teenage years, you were especially close to Ada and you two confided in each other about every little thing. This doesn’t change as you get older.
• You and Ada are best friends and she is the first one who clocks onto you and John hiding feelings for one another. 
• “Just tell him, Y/N!”
  
• “I can’t, Ada, there’s no way he feels the same!”
  
• “That’s the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard. He looks at you like you hung the bloody stars!”
  
• You spent a lot of time with John as a teen, getting into trouble, drinking and smoking, running rings around Polly and running wild around Small Heath. 
• Polly bollocked John about it to no end and expressed her disappointment in you too, but you two just couldn’t stay away from each other. There was nobody else in the world that made you feel like the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders the way he could - he made you feel genuinely happy.
• On your 18th birthday in the summer, John steals a bottle of whiskey and you both get drunk out in the fields watching the stars and talking about anything and everything. 
• You rode out there on horseback but since you were too drunk to ride back, you end up falling asleep under the stars curled up next to John. 
• When you wake early the next morning, the sheer magnitude of your feelings for him hits you like a freight train. 
• He wakes up shortly after you and when he sees you propped up on one arm staring at him with a particular twinkle in your eye, he wastes no time in kissing you. You both laugh about how hungover you feel and how it was probably the worst first kiss ever, and then you both panic about the beating you’re both going to receive from Polly when you get home. 
• It doesn’t take long for John to propose after that, and you don’t hesitate in saying yes. 
• Polly acts like she’s annoyed about it but deep down she couldn’t be happier for the two of you; part of her hopes that you’ll be able to reign him in a little bit. 
• Of course this doesn’t happen since the two of you are just as fiery as each other. 
• Your wedding night is a wild one, that’s for sure. It’s surprising that anyone even remembers it the next morning. 
• You, Arthur, John and Michael are the worst, it’s actually quite funny to watch. 
• You literally go off the rails.
• Consecrating the marriage is amazing, to say the very fucking least. John treats you like royalty up until you tell him not to…
• “I won’t break, you know. You can be a little rougher than that.”
• He doesn’t need you to say anymore than that. 
• Even after being married for some time, you and John are still loved up. 
• You’re always holding hands at family meetings.
• You sit in his lap whenever you get the chance. 
• Anyone would think you were still teenagers.
• You literally cannot keep your hands off each other. 
• Sometimes you steal his hat and wear it which he thinks is the cutest damn thing ever.
• And the sex… well.
• You ‘christen’ every room in your house. Hell, you ‘christen’ every surface.
• He’s always murmuring crude comments in your ear at inappropriate times because he loves watching you squirm.
• When you eventually have children, they are just as wild as their mum and dad. Polly never misses the opportunity to let you know that you only have yourselves to blame for producing such raucous children. 
• He loves watching you be a mother to his children.
• You like to argue about who the fun parent is, but it’s definitely John.
• You’re always knocking Tommy down a peg or two, which he actually really respects. He thinks you’re just what his brother needs, and he’s right. 
• You and Arthur are cut from the same cloth, and when you get together it’s a given that there’s going to be trouble. Nights at the Garrison with him almost always end in a wicked hangover because you’re constantly trying to out-drink one another.
• You understand the nature of John’s work but it does get lonely sometimes when he’s always away or coming home late.
• But he never fails to make it up to you.
• He spoils you incessantly - jewellery, books, fancy dinners, expensive champagne… anything you want. Name it and it’s yours. 
• Being married to John is literally a dream.
• There’s never a dull moment.
• There’s never any room for doubt where his love for you is concerned because he tells you whenever he gets the chance.

❝DECISIONS❞

pairing: Michael Gray x Reader

content warning: none, just gina being an annoying cunt as usual

a/n:first michael fic in a long time :) it was originally supposed to take a veeeery different direction, super angsty, with the reader being angry at Michael and extra sassy, but oh well. I think Michael deserves some love after what they did to him in s6. || wc: 0,7

(gif not mine: ?)

“Are you sure this is what you want, Michael?”

The room had been plunged into a heavy, awkward silence before you interrupted it, the sharp sound of the slap Michael had received from his mother just moments before still ringing in your ear.

“Turning your back on your family and risking everything by becoming their enemy? Is that what you want?” you continued, pushing yourself away from the counter you were leaning against to take a step forward. You heard a scoff coming from behind you, but you knew better than to give Gina the attention she so desperately wanted. Instead, you kept your gaze on Michael and crossed your arms over your chest as you got no answer, his jaw clenching being the closest you got to a reaction.

“Don’t worry about him.” Gina eventually chimed in, seeing Michael wouldn’t answer. Her signature sardonic smile was glued to her red tinted lips as she pushed herself up from her chair, approaching you. “We know what we’re doing and I’m sure Michael can make his own decisions.”

“What’s your plan?” you questioned Michael, ignoring the american woman. But within a second, Gina was opening her mouth again.

“Tell her, baby.” she said. You cringed at the pet name, your cheeks flexing. “At least you know this one is willing to listen.”

“How about you shut the fuck up, huh?” you whipped around, taking a menacing step towards her. You’d had enough. “This is a conversation between me and Michael. Mind your own fucking business, Gina.”

Gina’s eyebrows raised at your sudden outburst, a mocking grin on her face as she directed her gaze toward Michael. She probably expected him to say something but he didn’t, his expression unchanging.

“In business it’s called a hostile takeover.” he explained, catching your attention. “That doesn’t mean anyone needs to get hurt.” You held back a scoff. Non-violence has never been an option in this family. “I’ll make an approach to the chinese suppliers and offer them more favorable terms.”

“And more access to american buyers.” Gina added. You cast her a pointed glare before focusing back on Michael.

“Gina’s uncles are in Chicago, Boston, and Long Island.” he continued. “They run whisky and gin from Canada, but booze is now being legalized again. So narcotics is the future. Tommy is taking too much on, his business is too big for him to handle.”

Sucking in a breath, you ran a nervous hand through your hair as you began to pace silently around the room, taking in everything Michael was telling you.

You had a bad feeling about this. Tommy would have no mercy on Michael if he were to go on with this plan and try to outsmart him. He was risking so much.

Your pacing finally came to a stop and you took a hold of Michael’s hands, forcing him to keep his attention on you.

“You need to tell Polly everything.” you said calmly. Once again Gina shared her exasperation, the clicking of her heels resonating as she paced around you.

“Why? So she can read into our future and tell us something really bad is going to happen if Michael sticks to the plan?” she mocks. “You cannot be serious. Listen, honey…Michael laughs at this witchcraft bullshit when his family’s not there. We don’t need Polly’s approval.” she came up to Michael and placed a hand on his shoulder, clinging onto him. “Let’s just go, baby. It’s not worth it.”

“Shut up, Gina.” Michael finally snapped, giving his wife a cold glare. Gina’s expression dropped and if you weren’t so worried you would’ve smirked at the expression on her face when she drew back, walking back to her seat while mumbling something about ’this fucking family’ under her breath.

“Michael, listen to me.” you continued, lifting a hand to cradle one of your palms against his cheek. “I need to know you’ll be okay. Please, if you won’t do it for me or anyone from this family, do it for our daughter.” you begged.

“Jesus Christ.” Gina sighed.

“We’ll speak to Pol, Y/N.” Michael responded, taking your hand that was still on his cheek and giving it a squeeze. He could tell you were genuinely distraught. Although you and Michael had been divorced for two years you still cared a great deal about each other, therefore the thought of him getting hurt or possibly dying had you panicking. “I promise.” he added softly, staring into your eyes as if to let you know he truly meant what he said.

A couple seconds passed until you nodded, releasing a breath of relief. After a quick moment of hesitation you cupped Michael’s face and leaned forward to press a lingering kiss to his forehead, resting yours against it afterwards. Michael’s hands came to your sides, his thumbs subconsciously stroking your skin in a soothing manner.

“I know your heart, Michael.” you murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. “Your family has always mattered more than your business. Think about it, that’s all i’m asking. And if you change your mind, just know that you’ll always be welcome home. Your daughter misses you.”

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Not to toot my own horn, but Sehnsucht is honestly the thing that I will forever be the most proud of and will never shut up about. And yes I am weirdly emotional since it’s a bit over 2 years since I started working on it. Since that day Faye Morton is more fleshed out and depressed than ever.

She is the most developed and thought through OC I have ever created. And even though I have it tagged as a Michael story, it’s really so much more than that. The relationship that we’re not even officially started is a second to this story. Everything is about mistakes, self forgiveness and self destruction.

Finding comfort in someone equally fucked up, so similar and yet so different, it’s about that. Learning to let in. Learning to forgive. And grief. Grieving over the self, what could have been and what ended up.

In a way this is my heaviest story, and most intimate.

Request: Micheal gray finding out his so is pregnant

Requested by Anonymous

Michael Gray x Female!Reader

Warnings: pregnancy

A/n: This isn’t completely edited because my wifi has been weird and I don’t want to edit it too much just for it not to show up. I don’t know why I’ve never done a headcanon like this before for any of the characters, but I’m glad someone requested it for Michael. I have been wanting to write for Michael more, so I was so happy to write this. 

Masterlist 

• Now, it would all depend on if the two of you are married or not.
• If you were dating, that would make the news a little more difficult
• You would try and delay telling him by at least a week or something just to mentally prepare for his reaction, whatever it may be.
• That, of course, wouldn’t work. 
• There was no way you could step into Polly Gray’s house and her not know you were pregnant. 
• You tried to avoid her house because of that but Michael would always try and drag you there.
• “Mum wants to know if you could come over for dinner.”
  
• “We’ll have to stop by the house. I left my wallet.”

• You could ave sworn he made up any excuse just to get you there, but in all honesty it was normal to have to stop by the house five times a day.
• So, reluctantly, you walked right into his house and prayed that Polly was out for the day. She wasn’t.
• Polly was sitting in the parlor when you walked in and couldn’t keep her eyes off of you as you waited for Michael to get whatever it was that he’d left.
• You did your best not to make eye contact with her, but her gaze was steady and you knew she was going to say something regardless.
• “Y/n.”
  
• You hummed, finally looking at her. “Yes?”
• “Have you told Michael yet?”
  
• You shook your head. “No, I… um, haven’t yet.”
• “You should.”
  
• You knew she was right but the thought was terrifying. 
• Anytime after that that you saw his mother, she would always ask if you told him and push you to do so. That made it even more nerve racking. 
• But eventually, you  found the courage to tell him.
• And it went about how you expected.
• Michael was frozen once you got the words out, just staring at you like the information couldn’t possibly be true. 
• “Michael,” you said after a few minutes of silence. “Please say something.”
  
• Michael was slow to get his words out, it seemed he had to go over then again and again before saying them. “Do you want to keep it?”
• “I suppose it depends on what you want,” you admitted. You didn’t want the answer to completely rest on you. You didn’t feel like you could make a decision like that.
  
• Michael wasn’t sure if he was ready for a baby, but he knew he was ready to marry you. Just the week before he had bought a ring and was waiting for the right time to ask you.
• “I don’t know if we’re ready for a baby, but I don’t think that matter,” he said with a small smile. “Not if I want to marry you anyway.”
  
• Now if you guys were married, it would be a little different.
• You would be oblivious to it for a while, brushing off the small symptoms because you had more important things to do than worry about being pregnant.
• Because of that, you found out from Polly.
• You were sitting at your desk when she walked in to put some files away. You could feel her eyes on you once her task was finished. “What is it, Polly?”
• “How have you been feeling recently?” The question may have been innocent, but you knew better than to think it was.
  
• You shrugged. “Fine, why?” You glanced up, waiting for her to spit it out.
• “You’re pregnant.”
  
• You raised a brow. “You can tell that just from looking at me?” you couldn’t help but ask. If she was right, you weren’t that far along and weren’t showing.
• “Yes, I can,” she declared, hands on her hip. “If you doubt me, I’ll gladly take you to the doctor to prove it.”
  
• So you dragged her to the doctor with you because you were curious to find out if she was correct. You’d heard Polly knew such things, but it wasn’t hard to assume any woman in the Shelby family was pregnant, especially Esme.
• Polly was right, of course, and she couldn’t contain her happiness. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel about becoming a grandmother, but she was starting to like the idea.
• As Polly already knew, you knew that you had to tell Michael sooner rather than later. With how excited Polly was, you were sure she would accidentally let the news slip.
• You didn’t trust waiting until you got home because you guys lived with Polly and she hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut about it, so you decided tell right after work.
• Walking into his office, you couldn’t contain your smile and he had a feeling that you were up to something. “What?” he asked as he finished up writing in a ledger. “What do you want?”
• “Who said I want anything?”
  
• “You always smile like that when you want something,” he stated, matching your grin. 
  
• You sighed, that was true. There were many times you’d walked into his office with a similar grin because you were up to something. “Well, I don’t want anything from you today besides a ride home.”
• “I thought you were going to head home with Polly.”
  
• You shrugged. “That was the plan, but there was something I wanted to tell you and I’d rather not do that with your mother in the room.”
• Michael shut the ledger, leaning against the back of his chair. “Alright, what is this thing you’d like to tell me.”
• “Well, you don’t have to be so serious about it,” you teased. “But since I ave your attention, I’ll tell you anyway.” You paused for effect, knowing it would drive him crazy. “I’m pregnant.”
  
• Michael sat there with wide eyes for a second. “You’re…”
• “Yes,” you nodded.
  
• Michael stood, rounding the desk to embrace you. “This is the best news I’ve heard all day,” he whispered before planting kisses all over your face.
• “Okay, okay,” you giggled. “We should probably go home.”
• “Why?” he asked.
• You shook your head with a smile. “Your mother is very excited about the news and I think it’s best we hear all about her excitement instead of the whole street.”
• He nodded, before frowning. “My mother found out before I did!”
• “She was the one who told me,” you rolled your eyes.

*~~*~~*

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Michael Gray:@retromafia​@peakywitch​

Summary: Michael decides to go see his adoptive family after his adoptive mother visits him in the hospital. He misses the happy home he grew up in and the people that he loved, especially the girl he left behind. Seeing Y/n again makes him wonder if he could leave the Peaky Blinders behind and have a normal life once again. But more importantly, he wonders if she would ever let him into her life again.

Michael Gray x Female!Reader

Word Count:2.5k

Warnings: Mention of cocaine, mention of alcohol

A/n: This takes place after the events of s4. I didn’t reference it much when I wrote it but I swear this took on a life of its own. Like the second part of it was not how I first imagined it going, it just did. But I did really enjoy this. I don’t write for Michael that often, but I always love it when I do. I can imagine him moving back to the village or at least moving to the countryside and leaving the Peaky Blinders. I can totally see it. Like you can’t tell me that his adoptive mother didn’t raise a gentleman, cause I know she did. So I feel like Michael would have resisted much harder to that whole life, but whatever, I didn’t write the show. Oh, speaking of, I had to name Michael’s adoptive brother and father because I couldn’t find out what their names were and they probably didn’t have any. So, yeah. 

And now I’m tempted to write someone about Michael and his wife in the countryside. Maybe I’ll do that later…

Masterlist 

Michael sucked in a breath as he stepped out of the recently polished Rolls Royce and stared at the small brick cottage. It had been years since he’d laid eyes on it, always telling himself that it would only ever be a memory. But nostalgia had won the battle in his heart that was pulling him home, turning it into reality. Polly would have a fit to find out that he had returned, but he hoped his mother would understand that it was only to give the place a proper goodbye. Yeah, that’s all he needed to do, give it a meaningful farewell. He’d been young and foolish when he left all those years ago, never once realizing that he’d never hop on a train to come back. Back then Michael hadn’t considered that his whole world would turn upside down once he was reunited with his mother.

Shaking out his nerves, he strode towards the front door. Even from the footpath, he could smell the blueberry pie that his adoptive mother was famous for. A fresh one was probably sitting in front of an open window to cool down. There had been countless times in his childhood where he’d gotten sick from eating too many slices. He’d yet to experience anything like that, anything that melted him into a puddle of warmth and happiness, in Small Heath. Cocaine and whiskey only numbed the pain of reality. Stopping in front of the wooden door, Michael glanced back at the car, giving himself one last moment to flee. But he turned his gaze back to the door he used to run through and let his knuckles rap against it.

A dog barked as his knocks echoed through the house followed by the sound of feet shuffling. “Matthew, sit and finish your lunch,” he heard Rosemary say before the door swung open. From the startled but warm glow of her eyes, it appeared she’d always hoped that this day would come. That her son would come back to her. “Henry,” she breathed.

“It’s Michael now,” he gave her a small smile, eyes scanning the room behind her. Little had changed since he’d lived there. The fireplace in the small parlor still had a photo of the family that was taken at a wedding and a few from when him and Matthew were younger. A painting of some mountain that none of them could name hung on the wall. And cracked tile peaked out of the kitchen, tile that Michael may have broken by dropping a full milk jug. He would never admit it, though.

The woman nodded with a sad smile. “Of course, of course. Please come in.” She opened the door wider, allowing him to step inside. “Your fath- I mean, Joseph is out delivering milk but he should be back in time for a late lunch.”

A bing of guilt crept into his heart at her words. It was no one’s fault, least not her’s, the situation that had fallen into their lap. “Is Matthew here?” he asked. That was who had wished to see the most.     

Polly went on and on about Anna, about how important it was for them to remember her, but each time she mentioned it, Michael only ever thought of Matthew. Blood or not, Matthew would be his brother until the end. They had done everything together. From harassing the cows to falling into the fountain in the center of the village, they were inseparable. Then Michael left, never sparing his brother a second glance, an action that always haunted him. 

“Oh, yes, yes. He’s having lunch in the kitchen, would you like some? You look like you could use a few hearty meals,” she said, eyeing him up and down. She wasn’t wrong, Michael couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper meal. Polly always saved diner for him, but his appetite withered the longer he worked for the company.

“I’d like that very much.”

“Come on then, let’s get you fed,” she announced as she walked into the kitchen. “Look who’s come to visit, Matthew, it’s your brother.”

A lanky boy turned in his seat with wide, hopeful eyes. He quickly set his sandwich down and raced to his brother, wrapping him in a hug. “I knew you’d come back, I knew you would,” Matthew muttered as Michael hugged him back. 

“I had to come back to see you,” Michael said with a smile. God, he’d missed the boy. “Now sit and eat before mum yells at us.” From the counter, he could see Rosemary’s lips turn up in a smile. He knew he must have broken her heart by leaving. 

The three sat at the table, eating their lunch, while Matthew asked questions and told stories in between chewing. Their mum tried to silence him, reminding him that it was improper, but he shrugged it off as he continued, informing her that he just wanted to fill Michael in on all that had happened while he was gone. Someone had to if she wouldn’t. Michael then told them all about his life in Birmingham, leaving out a few details here and there, doing his best not to mention his real family as he knew it was a sore subject.

“That’s so cool,” Matthew mused, when Michael mentioned his job.

Rosemary rolled her eyes. “Do you even know what an accountant is?” she asked her son. 

He shook his head. “No, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t cool.”

A laugh vibrated Michael’s chest. “It’s not as cool as you think.”

His brother shrugged, “I don’t know, sounds better than running a farm.”

“Are you going to visit Y/n while you’re here?” his mum asked, in need of a new subject.

Michael leaned back in his chair, wishing he had a cigarette between his lips, but he knew how Rosemary felt about such things. Last he’d hear, Y/n had moved to London, leaving her memories of him in the village. “I wasn’t aware she was back.”

She nodded. “Oh, yes, the poor girl had to come back to take care of her mother. I don’t think she liked London that much since she’s been dragging her feet about going back ever since her mum died.”

“Oh,” he mouthed. He hadn’t heard about that and he did his best to keep up with what was going on in the small village.

“Yeah, she claims that she’s just waiting for the house to sell, but I know she’s lying,” Rosemary said with a sad smile. “You should go see her if you have time. I’m sure it would mean a lot to her. She’s got no one now and I’m sure that gets lonely.”

*~~*~~*

Michael walked out of his childhood home an hour later. He wasn’t sure how long he’d meant to stay, but he had a hard time leaving. Everything there grabbed at him, reminding him of better times, happy times. He was happy to know his real family, happy to know Polly, but he was starting to question whether he was happy in Birmingham. He tried not to dwell too much on the subject as he walked toward the village, now wasn’t the time to rethink his life. Not when everything was at its brightest in the village. Spring days like that would make any man happy.

Nearling the center of the small village, Michael caught sight of a woman kneeled in front of a small garden bed outside a small brick house. Her back was turned to him, but he didn’t need to see her face to know it was Y/n. Her mother had always taken extra care of the flowers in that little bed, and with her gone, the job had fallen upon her daughter. 

“Y/n,” he called, heart stopping as she turned toward him. He only had one photo of her, one he kept tucked away in his wallet. Seldom did he glance at it, but having it near never failed at reminding him of what was missing in his life.

Her lips twitch, suppressing a smile as she stood and wiped the dirt on her apron. “Um… It’s Michael now, right?”

“Yes, it is,” he nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “How have you been?” 

Y/n shrugged, “Good, I suppose. Um, would you like to come in for a cup of tea?”

“I’d like that very much,” Michael said and followed her into the house. Y/n untied her apron, throwing it on a stool as she entered the kitchen. Taking a seat at the small table, Michael had nearly forgotten all the time he used to spend at her house. The two had been best friends growing up, always tagging along with Michael and Matthew. She would always get in trouble with her mother, coming home late and usually covered in mud. 

“How is Birmingham?” she asked as she put the kettle on the stove.

He caught the bite in her words, she’d been deeply hurt by his departure, which Michael understood all too well. Before he’d left, the two had started courting and he swore to her that he’d marry her one day. But he left for Birmingham, only thinking of himself and leaving the people he loved in the dust. “It’s… good, but different.”

Y/n hummed and searched the cabinets for a couple cups. “Well, anywhere’s better than here, right?”

“You don’t seem to think so.”

“What does that mean?” she glared at him as she poured the steaming liquid into the two mugs.  She wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but she’d heard enough from all the other women in town. They all cooked up their own little reasons as to why she had stayed so long. Each was as wild and untrue as the next. If she were to be honest, she couldn’t bear to part with home as it reminded her too much of how happy life used to be. 

Michael shrugged. “Just that you don’t seem to be too keen on moving back to London.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, bringing the cups over to the table. “London hasn’t been as kind to me as Birmingham has to you.” She handed him his cup before taking a seat, keeping her eyes on the dark liquid in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” he confessed, knowing life hadn’t played out the way either of them had expected. He was sorry for leaving her behind, for never coming back, for her taking life on alone, and for taking care of her ailing mother all by herself. “I’m sorry about all of it.”

“Don’t be, it happens,” she shrugged and took a sip of tea.

“And Birmingham hasn’t been as grand as you think.”

She raised a brow, waiting for him to continue, but when he didn’t she said, “What do you mean? You have everything you didn’t here. A better, more exciting family, enough money to drown in, and I’m sure women lined up at your door. That is grand compared to here, compared to this.”

Michael let out a sigh. He wished to ignore the broken heart before him, but he knew Y/n would rip him a new one for it before he’d have a chance to leave. He wanted her to, he wanted her to let him know how deeply he’d hurted her. He wanted to hurt as deeply as the people he’d hurt, it would only be fair. “It’s not as grand as it sounds. All that doesn’t equal a happy life.”

“Is that why you’re here? To get a touch of everyone else’s happy life, stick around long enough to make everyone think you’ll be coming back, and then leave again?”

“Is that what you think?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think, Michael,” she spat. “It seems it never has.”

“Now, don’t say that,” he urged. “I was a fool to not bring you with me, I know that now, but you can’t go thinking I still don’t care about you.”

“Oh please,” she mumbled. She shouldn’t have let him inside. It should have been a quick hello and goodbye, but no, she had to let him in. She had to ask all the questions, digging for all the answers she’d been wondering about since he left. “Don’t say that. If you cared about me you wouldn’t have come back here and make me think you might be back for good.”

“What if I was back for good?” Why he asked, Michael couldn’t say, but part of him knew he couldn’t stay in Birmingham forever. The family business was built for tougher men than him and everytime he picked up a gun, he was reminded of what Rosemary used to say. She always told her sons that violence wasn’t the answer and, usually, she was right.

Y/n was silent, staring out the small kitchen window. She didn’t want to think too deeply into the question. There were many days where she wished Michael would come back, he’d knock on her door and ask her to come back to Birmingham with him, but she wrote those off as dreams. They would never happen. Michael wasn’t the same man he used to be. He had rougher edges, a darker heart, and cold eyes. She knew he wouldn’t look at her the same as he had all those years ago.

“Y/n?” He traced the outline of her face, wishing she would look at him. “Y/n, would it be so bad if I came back?”

“I don’t know, I doubt you ever will,” she admitted. “So, let’s on dwell on ‘what if?’”

“But if I do come back, will you wait for me?” he asked.

She shrugged, running her finger over the rim of the cup. “I don’t know. I want to, but how can I be sure you won’t leave again?”

Michael flashed her a soft smile. “Will you let me prove it to you? That I won’t leave again? Can we try again?”

Y/n let out a sigh as a small smile snuck onto her face. She knew she was giving in far too early, he deserved to work much harder for her answer, but she had always hoped he’d come back to her. “Oh, I suppose we can… But you go and break my heart again, I will put you six feet under. You understand?”

He let out a laugh. “Oh, yes, I do. And I won’t hurt you again, I promise.”

“Alright then,” she nodded. “I look forward to your return.”

Michael couldn’t hold back his bright smile, finally feeling happy for the first time in a long time. And he made good on that promise to her. Every chance he got, he would come visit her and have dinner with his other family. When work kept him away, he’d write to her, informing Y/n of all the things that were going on in his life. Polly wasn’t too thrilled that he had returned to the village, but she saw how happy he’d become and chose not to say anything. And Michael was happy, he was happy to finally be in a place where happiness was allowed to grow. If only he could find the courage to tell Tommy that he was going to leave the company. That would certainly make him a happy man if he didn’t have the burden of that.

*~~*~~*

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