#jeanne margaine lacroix | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

horanghaechan · 2 years

Text

LOVER (M.G) - Chapter 3

pairing: Michael Gray x original female character chapter: 3 pov: written in 3rd person genre: ‘rivals to lovers’, romance, mature content/smut, fluffy? warnings: S3 spoilers, non canon stuff. main character is BRAZILIAN therefore, there are references to 1920's brazil. keep in mind that the world at that time wasn't like the world we live nowadays, so there are offensive behaviours along the story. read at your own risk. english is not my first language, so any mistakes please tell me <3 disclaimer: this is the english translation of my portuguese fic 'Lover', based on Taylor Swift songs and Peaky Blinders S1-S3. This is PURE fanfiction.

Birmingham, England, 1924

It was as if the wedding hangover had been going on all month. Maria Clara felt discouraged and irritable. The icing on her misfortune cake was that, five days prior a major Shelby event, her period arrived rather quickly.

Good God, she was freaking out. The dress she’d planned to wear to the Shelbys’ charity dinner was plain white and she didn’t have a second attire option!

Could she be any unluckier?!

Rummaging through her clothes, she found a box strategically hidden at the bottom of her wardrobe. When her mother brought everything, she owned in Brazil, she didn’t imagine that she’d bring exactly everything. Opening the package, Marie nearly burst into tears. João Antônio’s engagement dress – which years ago she had been forbidden to wear due to her ‘young’ age, her being single and the fact that the piece’s design was scandalous on its own. It was delicately wrapped in a very fair tulle, making the green seem lighter. Marie took it out, stretching it on her bed to see the entire dress.

“Good God!” She shook her head in disbelief. “My robe-sylphide!”

Created by Jeanne Margaine-Lacroix, Directoire Fashion was nothing more than wearing a fitted dress, marking the waist, hips and bust. Her seamstress in Brazil had travelled to Paris in 1902 looking for fashion trends, she returned enchanted by Madame Lacroix’s boldness. When Marie got older – 17 years old, in 1920 – and João’s engagement was announced, the woman was still in love with that French style... As she was aware of the girl’s ‘modern’ (but kind of repressed) spirit, she suggested that they create an adapted robe-sylphide in emerald-green lace and dark green lining, shades that looked beautiful on her. Even though she knew her family would probably not let her wear it, Marie agreed without hesitation – just in case, she asked for a ‘normal’ spare, bland peach dress.

Despite the beautiful white gown she had chosen for the ball, the robe-sylphide was prettier. And at that moment, her being older and without her parents around, there wasn’t much to stop her from using it.

Praying she still fit in that size (although she had certainly lost a little weight since arriving in England, due to the not-so-tasty cuisine and dynamic lifestyle), she took off her nightgown and tried dressing herself.

The fabric fell like a glove, outlining her body in a way it hadn’t before. The gown had somewhat a mermaid shape, all embroidered, the beadings shimmered in harmony with the lining and the exquisitely fitted belt in emerald silk; the no-sleeves sweetheart neckline showed her bust in a delicate and subtle way. Turning to her side, Maria Clara observed her back, its V-shaped neckline ended near her waist, so not too low, silk buttons working as the clasp... Further down, her ass looked round and pert, even though the dress wasn’t that tight. Laughing in disbelief, she walked around in front of the mirror.

She felt so feminine! So beautiful!

Satisfied with the result, Marie rang the bedroom bell and waited for her lady-in-waiting to appear. She was very lucky that Ana Vera didn’t want to go back to Brazil and agreed to stay in England with her... She wasn’t sure she’d get used to an English handmaid.

“Sinhazinha?” The maid showed up about five minutes later.

“What do you think, Ana?” Marie indicated the dress.

“Good God! Is it…” Ana closed the door, hands over her mouth in surprise. “Is it the dress from João Antônio’s engagement party?!”

“It is, indeed.” Marie nodded.

“Sinhazinha... Do you want to wear it now?!”

“What do you think?! I don’t have Papa or Mama pestering me again, and the Shelby’s are relatively ‘open-minded’.” She winked. “Did you like it? It’s beautiful, isn’t it?!’

“It was splendid, milady, but I don’t think it’s wise. You do remember the disaster it brought when you decided to go for it back then, right?”

Marie crossed her arms, vexed.

“I remember, of course; but we’re in a different situation now, Ana! And I promise that after the dinner, I’ll put it down and won’t touch it again until I’m married.”

“Does it even matter if I go against it?” Ana Vera surmised. “It seems prettier than before, doesn’t it? You’re all grown-up now, sinhazinha.”

“Do not call me like that!” Maria Clara laughed, a mixture of scolding and confidence. “So it’s decided: I’ll wear it. I’d like to tie my hair up, too, to show the back...”

“You lost your sanity after becoming an independent woman.”

“Lucky me that I’m not independent at all, eh?”

Marie laughed at herself, for she had just mocked Tommy. Ana helped her out of the dress and promised that she would wash it later that night.

±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±

The week stretched on and Maria Clara’s period, which usually lasted seven days, only lasted five. She no longer had the excuse to go along with the crazy idea of wearing her green gown… She’d wear it anyway, though. It was as if she had finally marked the new phase she was experiencing: an adult lady, independent (as Ana would say) and free. She might not be completely independent, but it was undeniable that she was close to that fate.

Marie was restless until the moment Ana went upstairs to help her get ready. Chattering nonstop – a quirk of when she felt anxious – throughout the entire process. Her voice trailed off, however, when she saw herself reflected in the mirror: a beautiful unadorned Charleston bun, the gorgeous dress, and equally gorgeous shoes with heels ‘a little’ higher than recommended. For her makeup, Ana agreed with red lipstick, but her eyes were supposed to remain soft. In addition to the gloves of the same emerald silk as the belt, the jewellery was also simple: just a pair of pearl teardrop-earrings.

Covering herself with a black overcoat, the only thing apparent was the dress’ long tail. Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the room drunk on adrenaline.

That was her moment!

Downstairs, she found Michael leaning against the foyer wall, smoking a cigarette. Marie held her breath, annoyed by the way she was so taken aback by the man’s beauty. Did the tuxedo just intensify it? Yes, it probably did.

He, however, also studied her from head to toe, inhaling the smoke and tilting his face slightly to the side.

“Did someone die, milady?”

“Yes, I’m mourning my peace.” Marie replied dryly, turning her back on him and going to the library. She could have a glass of cognac before she left, couldn’t she?

Still, she heard Michael’s footsteps shortly after entering the hall. There’s no way he wanted to keep on arguing! Not on a day she was exceptionally happy and didn’t want to waste her energy on stupid quarrels... Didn’t matter if those who wanted to quarrel had pale green eyes, broad shoulders, and a husky voice with a beautiful accent.

“You know that we’ll have to pretend to be friends tonight, don’t you? Tommy invited many partners and investors, let alone potential ones.” He spoke. “So, it’d be good if you started treating me politely, milady.”

“It was you who started this! I wasn’t even going to acknowledge your presence.” She rolled her eyes, pouring herself more brandy than the usual dose. She needed it.

“Watch out, Your Grace, for ladies must be affable and good-tempered.” Michael smirked. “And they certainly don’t drink brandy in the presence of a gentleman.”

“Oh, how odd.” She sipped on her drink. “I don’t see any gentleman around here.” She leaned against the sideboard, tilting her head just like he had minutes ago.

Michael’s expression hardened, showing her that she had hit a sore spot. Well, it was always a pleasure when she finally hurt him somehow.

“You should know your place, Maria Clara.” The warning came as harsh and painful as a slap. He soon realised he had crossed the line, but when her eyes flashed with fury, he couldn’t help but marvel. Marie almost never backed away from a feud with him.

“I know my place, Mr. Gray: above you, always.” She drained the entire content of the glass, letting the heat of alcohol encourage her. “Someone should warn you about your rudeness… Your small mind surely doesn’t know how to behave in the presence of a lady.”

Michael hated the childish response he’d give her, but he hated even more that his body started having ideas without his permission. Instead of only above, it seemed to believe that Marie’s place could be either on or below him… And he no longer talked about hierarchical positions. No wonder defiant girls usually caught his eye.

“It’s funny, Your Grace,” He smiled acidly. “Because women tend to like my rude behaviour, you know?! By the way,” He crossed his arms, unconcerned and relaxed. “they even praise me for not having anything small, including my mind.”

The real meaning of what he said hit her faster than he thought. Maria Clara’s eyes widened and she set the glass down on the sideboard in a clumsy move, as if she was really dumbfounded by his cheeky remark.

“You are all shades of scoundrel, Mr. Gray.”

“Well, I thought you already knew.” He shrugged. “Weren’t you the one who insinuated just now I was no gentleman?!”

“Oh, no.” Marie let out a humourless laugh. “No, no, no. You won’t ruin my night! Not tonight! You have all others to annoy me, but this one in particular, no.”

“Really?” Michael opened an amused smile, as if he had been offered a great challenge. My God, the man was impossible!

Maria Clara shook her head, filling her cup again and chugging it down. She wore a wonderful dress, felt beautiful and powerful. Michael Gray wouldn’t spoil that, even if she needed to be a complete bitch to make sure of it. And she’d start acting like that right now: if there was one thing in the world he hated the most, it was being ignored. So, clinging to her coat, she walked past him and back into the foyer.

Luck smiled at her when she saw Ada coming down the stairs.

Though they went the entire way in tense silence – which got both Polly and Ada slightly worried –, the duo couldn’t remain like that when they arrived at the event. Tommy soon approached them and indicated who they should make sure to greet, and after that they were supposed to sit together during dinner and remain that way through the night.

“Good Heaven’s, Tommy, at least let us get rid of our coats before ordering us around!” Ada pleaded in a mixture of annoyance and laughter.

Maria Clara was well aware of her own shaking. She couldn’t keep the coat on, of course, but she was very insecure now. Wearing the dress at home and dreaming of that moment was one thing… Living it was another. When a hatter approached, she knew she couldn’t escape. Unbuttoning her ‘shield’, she avoided looking at the others while undressing and focused on not tripping over her own feet as she turned around.

She heard an exclamation from Ada, and the soft ‘Marie’ from Polly.

Someone coughed.

“Will you take us to Mr. Heartwell, Tommy?” Her voice was controlled and soft. Marie mentally congratulated herself, letting the adrenaline take over for a few seconds.

“Sure.” He didn’t move. Nobody did, actually.

“If Michael is speechless, maybe it’s a good sign.” Polly joked, looking at her niece.

At the mention of the young man, Maria Clara turned to him, surprised by the realization: he really was silent. And Michael was never quiet about her clothing! He always had some nasty comment on them; however, he remained mute. The only thing indicating he was alive were his eyes moving up and down Marie’s figure… The design didn’t leave as much to the imagination as the others. Still, there was something pleasant about the way the dress’ colour highlighted his green globes, that Maria Clara couldn’t be bothered by his silence – on the contrary, she felt feminine, gay, charming.

“Well,” Tommy cleared his throat. “Shall we, then?” He offered his arms to his sister and aunt, leaving Michael with the task of escorting Marie inside.

The boy still didn’t move. She sighed, unsure of what to do.

“Michael,” She called out. “although I’m revelling with the idea of you turning into a statue so I’ll no longer have to tolerate you, we have a job to do and Tommy is waiting.”

Moving closer, Marie was ready to grab his forearm and drag him to the party – if she had. It turned out Michael had ideas of his own, and to their shock, he let his whim take control faster. He touched her waist, eyes involuntarily widening as he realised that it really was a tight dress and that that body was Maria Clara’s.

Not that he’d never touched waists without the barrier of a corset. The problem was: right there, it seemed he never did. The sensation was undeniably different and it scared him completely. Michael felt as if he was invading her space, as if he was touching her under the gown. Even with all the beading and fabric, it was like touching bare skin. Stepping back like one would do when faced with fire, he offered her his arm in a messy movement.

“What is it?” She inquired a bit worried. “Are you alright?”

“Tommy.” He cleared his throat. “Tommy is waiting.”

The uneasiness escalated when he noticed that both men and women would look at Marie the same way he did. Firstly, because that colour made her stand out – both because it matched her skin and hair, and it was an unusual shade to be associated with single ladies. Secondly, the design of the dress was risqué… More than any lady of her status would probably venture wearing to an event of such fashion. And thirdly, highlighting his two previous concerns: she was young and single. This type of dress was normally worn by married women (or prostitutes) only.

Did Marie realise how dangerous this was?

Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out some surprised faces and some stern ones. His body tensed in the act, a mixture of discomfort for the situation and awareness of being so close to her. He wanted and didn’t want to be any of the onlookers just to see from afar the way she swayed her hips as they walked… He’d bet a few good pounds that she looked powerful and sensual, even if she didn’t mean to.

Mr. Heartwell’s expression was one of pure panic. Marie bowed elegantly, something she always did when meeting any investor or client, and the way her fingers lightly squeezed Michael’s forearm for balance made his throat go dry. Maybe if he cursed out loud, he’d go back to acting like the normal, controlled and unfazed Michael Gray.

For fuck’s sakes, it was just a dress!

There was no reason to act like a virgin teenager... Like Finn! He didn’t doubt his cousin would behave the same way... The big difference is that Finn was a virgin teenager, and Michael wasn’t. He hadn’t been one for a long time, by the way.

“Mr. Heartwell, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Her voice was in the same smooth, professional timbre she adopted when she was at Shelby Co..

“Lady Marie!” He took her hand, kissing it through the glove and forcing a relaxed smile. Heartwell was in his early forties and a well-groomed man. Michael had never been bothered by his gentleman-ish actions towards Marie, but she had never worn a tight dress to work meetings. “Allow me to say that you look exuberant today.” He smiled charmingly, and Michael held back the urge to roll his eyes.

Two seconds ago the son of a bitch seemed scared!

“Thank you, sir.” She accepted the compliment. “I try to live up to what the Shelby Company deserves.”

Oh.

Now Michael wanted to chuckle. Well, a point to Maria Clara.

“Obviously.” Heartwell nodded. “Tommy told me he’s going with us to Birmingham for a guided tour of the car factory.”

“Perfect.” Came from Michael. “Do you still intend to buy a shed there?”

“I’m planning on it, yes. I know there is some land close to your industry and I think it would be a good way to save on logistics.” Heartwell puffed on his cigar. “I’m thinking about the offers I can make to Tommy.”

“We’ll discuss this when we go to Birmingham, how about that?” He suggested politely. He was pretty sure Tommy would reject such idea, but that was a future business. Now, Michael and Marie needed to talk to the other guests.

“Oh, Michael, there’s Mrs. Waldorf! I had promised her previously that we’d tell her all about the wedding drinks, because Mr. Waldorf wants to buy some whiskey.” Marie signalled to an older lady, who was surrounded by other matrons. “Shall we say hello?”

“Of course. See you later, Mr. Heartwell.” Michael said goodbye, following Marie towards the woman. “I’m glad you saw her. I didn’t want to discourage him about the shed.”

“Tommy won’t accept bargains and Heartwell doesn’t have much to offer in the matter, right?” She shook her head. “Now help me sell at least two boxes of whiskey and I promise we won’t have to be together for long.”

“I wouldn’t count on that, after all, Tommy gave specific orders.” He shrugged.

“There are a few hours left until dinner; I’m sure we can escape each other if we try hard enough.” Marie suddenly waved excitedly at someone. “Thea!”

“Marie!” Lady Tumblewood approached them, grinning. “I thought I would never find you in this crowd! Congratulations, the event is packed!”

“It is, isn’t it?” The Brazilian looked proud.

“Mr. Gray.” Thea bowed her head.

“Lady Tumblewood.” Michael smiled politely. Since she didn’t offer her hand, he didn’t even ask for it. Also, he wasn’t used to kissing women’s hands as greetings.

“Mind if I steal Marie for now?” Thea asked him, eyes soft and hopeful. “Louis is here, and he brought some friends of her acquaintance… I wish…”

“Five minutes.” He agreed. “And then, Waldorf, eh?” He looked at her.

“Thank you, Michael.” Maria Clara gave him a satisfied smile.

It wasn’t that she was desperate to see Louis or the others, but she was relieved to finally get away from Michael and get some of her sanity back.

A deprecating grin appeared on the gangster’s lips, because, as he had predicted, Marie swayed her hips while walking – unlike the ‘stiff’ way British girls walked. However, his attention didn’t last long on it, as her ass was so evident that his eyes did nothing to avoid focusing on that region... And there they remained until the crowd completely swallowed the Brazilian.

“How long since the last fight?” John appeared accompanied by Finn.

“Hm...” He frowned. “Since we left the house, I think it’s been an hour or less.”

“And what’s the record?”

“An hour or less?!” Michael jested.

“She brought her rich friends.” Finn pointed out. “We’re going to raise some money.”

“Marie is an angel.” John agreed. “I didn’t think she would last a week with us, but here she is, it’s been more than two years, and she even take money from her own friends!”

“Your idea of holiness is very peculiar, John.” Michael told his cousin. “Well, I’ll look for something stronger to drink... The night is long and it’ll be difficult to bear it sober.”

“Did Tommy give you many orders?” Finn asked curiously.

“More than necessary for a charity dinner.”

“You’re the legal part of the business, Michael.” John gave him a gentle shoulder bump, as if trying to comfort him. “Unfortunately, it’s one of the many sides of this job; you should have gotten used to it by now.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but there are days I just want to...”

“Send everything to fucking hell and tell everyone to fuck off?”

“Something like this.” He nodded.

Michael’s five minutes turned into ten, then fifteen. Before Marie could relax because she hadn’t been bothered, she felt a pair of eyes watching her. Michael was standing between the arch that divided the hall and she was near the stairs, pretending he didn’t exist.

“He’s not part of the gang, right?” Thea’s question only served to prove Marie that he was really around. “The haircut... The way he behaves and the places he goes...”

“Michael is different.” She nodded. “Our task is to make Shelby Co. legal.”

“I see.” Her friend gave her a lopsided smile. “If I wasn’t completely in love with Louis, I don’t doubt that I’d have focused all my attention on Mr. Gray.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because he’s the best of both worlds, dummy! It’s danger and safety, legality and illegality, mystery and certainty... While you know he’s ‘clean’, you can’t prove he’s never gotten his hands dirty with anything from the Blinders.” Theodora numbered on her fingers as she described him. Although her tone didn’t indicate malice, Marie was a little offended.

She spoke like Charlotte.

Because, according to Michael himself, Charlotte was with him only for the thrill of being with a Blinder… As if he had nothing else to offer.

“Oh, I see.” She swallowed her discontentment. Thea lived in a different reality, and it was understandable that she ‘dreamed’ of more adventure. “He has a sweetheart.”

Despite Michael saying otherwise, she knew it was almost like that.

“Really? And where is she? Why didn’t she come with him?”

“I do not know.” Marie shrugged. “We don’t talk about it.”

“Well, her loss! I’m sure everyone already told you this, but I can’t help but compliment you on your attire. This gown is swell!” Thea smiled. “I wish I had the confidence to wear something similar, but I’m more conservative than I appear to be.”

“I confess that I did it on an impulse.”

Theodora opened her mouth to comment on Marie’s confession, but her voice didn’t come out. Michael walked toward their group with a scowl, his jaw clenched.

“Mr. Gray!” Thea smiled affably. “What brings you around here?!”

“Lady Tumblewood.” He made a courtesy. “Maria Clara.”

“Michael.” Marie braced her ears for a scolding.

“I think your notion of ‘five minutes’ is very different from mine.”

“Maybe.” She agreed, unable to avoid the teasing.

“So, just to be clear, your five minutes are up and we need to talk to all the people Tommy invited before dinner.” He pointed out, cranky. “Shall we?”

“By all means.” Marie hugged Thea. “See you later, right?”

“Of course! I’ll save you a seat at our table!”

“Thanks.” The Brazilian smiled, lifting her chin as she passed Michael.

They went for the Waldorfs first, then spoke to Mr. Rushford, who was a major sponsor of the horses Tommy owned at the races.

They were approaching Mr. Forsberg when chaos started.

Things happened so fast that Maria Clara couldn’t be sure of any chronological order if she needed to. One second, she was mentally repeating the speech she’d give to the man, and the next, she was being pressed into a wall by Michael’s body, who was holding her tighter than recommended. Marie wasn’t sure, but she could’ve sworn she heard a gunshot... However, since she was so focused on her meeting with Mr. Forsberg, maybe she’d imagined it… It could just possibly be something that fell on the floor and made a loud noise.

There was no reason for a shot to echo in that hall, with those people. No one would be crazy enough to shoot a Shelby or their rich, influential guests.

She opened her eyes, finding Michael’s side profile.

“What was this?” Forcing her voice to be heard, Marie absorbed all the uproar.

“Maria Clara, I need you to do exactly what I say.” Michael stared at her briefly. “On the count of three, hold my hand and let’s go to that door near the big stairs, all right?”

“Michael?”

“Not now.” He cut her off. “In three, Marie.”

“Wait! I need to hold the skirt for better speed!”

“Give me your hand.” His fingers searched for hers. “One. Two. Three!”

They ran without looking back, hands so tightly intertwined that their knots were starting to turn white. In the rush, Maria Clara didn’t notice that she ripped her gown’s skirt, creating a crease in the lace that went up to about her knee. As soon as they reached the door, Michael opened it and they entered a dark room, lit only by the moonlight coming through a small window... This probably was a storage room. The pale green globes glowed even in the pitch black, and Michael’s husky voice was like a blanket of false comfort to her.

“Are you okay?” He asked, panting slightly from the effort.

“I am fine. You?”

“Same.” He nodded. “I think we’d better wait a little before leaving.”

“Was that a shot?”

“Yeah.”

“Good Heaven’s!”

“I know… Still, let’s not panic, eh?!”

She almost laughed at him, but it’d be her nervous reflex. It didn’t help to be almost glued to Michael, smelling his musky male cologne. In order to gain some sanity, Marie took a step back, leaning against the wall and putting some distance between them. In a few minutes they could be out and she wouldn’t risk being caught red-handed totally enchanted by him — ‘cause if Lizzie noticed, surely other people noticed too. Maybe even him!

When the noises outside seemed to subside, he opened a crack to scan the place. There was just waiters and maids cleaning up broken glasses, overturned vases, trays and food. The atmosphere was absurdly tense; no one needed to be a genius to conclude that something serious had happened. Judging by the shot, someone was hurt or...

“Let’s go.” Michael reached for Marie’s hand. “We’re clear.”

“Are you cert–Oof!” She was pulled with force, bumping into his back. “Dammit, Michael! Please be gentle, eh?” Straightening her posture, she looked around the room.

Her voice trailed off at the sight of all the mess. Trying to organize her thoughts as she followed Michael out, she promised she wouldn’t freak out. Whatever happened there would need a calm person to solve it... If there was a solution, of course. Either way, a scared, about to have a mental breakdown girl wouldn’t be of help.

However, not all the calmness in the world would have prepared her for reality.

When they reached the entrance of the opulent building, Ada, Finn and John were chatting effusively, looking very, very worried. Esme, on the other hand, was apathetic near a column. Marie felt her stomach tug, a wave of agony washing over her.

“Oh! Finally!” John shouted. “Where the fuck were you both?!”

“We hid in a small room behind the stairs. What the hell happened?” Michael replied as soon as they approached the man. “Where is everyone?”

“They went to the hospital.” Ada spoke in a mixture of anxiety and dread. “G-Grace was shot… I don’t think she’ll resist.” She ran her hands over her face nervously. “Shit!”

Maria Clara could see the world coming out of its axis. This was, to say the least, horrible. She had no idea how to feel, for she never was friends with Grace, but… Tommy… Good God, he loved her with all his heart! After so many setbacks, they were finally starting a new life. Then, suddenly, the Fates give him such a stroke.

Poor Tommy.

Being the calm, wise mind she wanted to be, she took Ada’s hand.

“You need to go to the hospital; you must stay by Tommy’s side! I’m going to finish up here with the party staff and then I’ll go straight to your house, okay?”

“Who will stay with you? No chance you’ll remain alone.”

Marie looked around, wanting so badly to say ‘Finn’ but holding back, because he should be at the hospital too. Esme, although in shock, would be good company.

“I’ll stay.” Michael intruded. “Marie and I are the legal side, anyway. We’ll pay everyone and check the cleaning, then we’ll meet at your place, Ada.”

“Now go! Tommy needs you lot!” The Brazilian hurried them.

After nearly two hours of tiding up, Michael gathered the employees and paid them. He also told them to take all the food since dinner was cancelled. Ironically, when he went to search for Maria Clara, he found her sitting in the cloakroom with a huge tray of canapés and finger sandwiches on her lap, as well as an open bottle of champagne.

Unable to help himself, Michael let out a chuckle.

“How are you hungry amidst of chaos?” He wondered.

Marie looked up to find him standing in the doorway. Her heart sped up in something like catharsis, relief that he hadn’t been the one who got shot; as selfish and inappropriate as it was, she just couldn’t help the feeling. In fact, she wanted to run to him and squeeze him tight, just to make sure he was still alive and well.

If she was a little braver, maybe she would.

When she didn’t answer, Michael approached her, grabbing a sandwich. It was the first time he felt the intensity of her gaze, and it made him a bit uncomfortable.

Marie took a generous gulp of champagne, shaking her head. Either she’d get up and leave soon, or maybe, just maybe, she’d let impulse get the better of her and kiss him. It was the kind of first kiss she’d have never imagined, but under the night’s circumstances, she’d discovered that life was far too small... She had to seize it, didn’t she?

And never having been kissed, especially at the age of three and twenty, didn’t seem like a joyful way to live.

Staring at Michael, she memorised his sharp jaw, his straight nose and pretty eyebrows, his hair in the pompadour style that set him apart from all the other Blinders, and that smart, cruel mouth of his, always so ready to tease her as if it was its favourite activity.

“We need to leave the venue, milady; Ada should be home with some news by now.” He prompted. Although Maria Clara seemed to wake up from a trance, she remained silent and her attention was still fixed on him. “Is there something on my face?”

Her cheeks heated and embarrassment flooded her veins. It would be naïve to hope he hadn’t noticed that she was watching him so intensely.

“Can I bring this tray with me?” She changed topics, trying to escape the shame.

“Sure. You can bring the drink too.” He nodded. “Want me to grab your coat?”

“Yes, please.” Standing up, Marie took the food and champagne bottle.

“Was there something on my face?” Michael insisted.

“No.” She replied quickly. “I was just... It hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“I know, but it’s better to be prepared for the worst.”

“Poor Tommy, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.”

“Life’s like this. One minute you’re with someone you love, and next thing you know, without warning, they’re taken away from you.” Shrugging, Michael was oblivious to the pity look she gave him. His story with Polly was exactly like that...

“But it’s still sad.”

“Indeed.” He agreed. “You know what’s sad too?!”

“What?”

“That I couldn’t ruin your night, someone unfortunately did it before me.”

Maria Clara stifled a laughter. How dare he make a joke at a time like that?! But his dark sense of humour was one of the things she liked best about him.

“That was so crass, Michael!” Her voice was bubbly, a grin spreading on her lips.

“It is a gift.” He bowed at her, then opened the door for them.

Marie stared at him, repeating to herself that she was so grateful that he hadn’t been shot that she was about to weep in joy. Well, that was also crass.

Maybe they did have something in common, after all.

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #michael gray #michael gray fanfic #michael gray x reader

22 notes · View notes