make room (we're taking over here) ━ tommy shelby x male!oc!

8.

Chapter Eight:
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The scent of buttery, salty popcorn permeates through the theatre as Tommy's footsteps resound on the hardwood floors. He breezes past the desk where the clerk is stationed, making a beeline for the screen room.

Without encountering any obstacles, he steps into a vast, dimly lit space, occupied by moviegoers nestled in plush, crimson seats, their attention captivated by the film unfolding on the expansive screen. Spotting Ada amidst the crowd proves effortless. Tommy settles into the empty seat beside her, casually reclining back.

For a prolonged moment, neither of them utter a word. Ada munches on her popcorn, her gaze fixed on the screen, while Tommy taps his fingers along the armrest, biting into the inside of his cheek.

Finally, breaking the silence, Tommy asks in a hushed tone, "Who is the man responsible for your pregnancy?"

"Rudolph Valentino," Ada replies, her words laced with deceit.

Taking a deep breath, Tommy's annoyance flares, prompting him to rise abruptly from his seat. He strides toward the exit of the screen room, forcefully flinging the doors open. Entering the adjacent booth, he confronts two uneasy projectionists.

"Turn that shit off immediately," Tommy orders, his voice brimming with authority.

"Right away, Mr. Shelby," one of the men responds, hastening to comply.

Leaving the booth door ajar, Tommy returns to the screen room. As the lights flicker on, bathing the space in a golden glow, the film abruptly ceases. The audience erupts in a chorus of confusion, but Tommy remains indifferent.

"Get out!" he commands, his voice resolute. "All of you. Go on. Now!”

Like startled rabbits fleeing from a salivating wolf, the patrons swiftly gather their belongings and make their hasty exit. Tommy patiently waits until the very last person has departed before returning to Ada, standing beside her seat.

“I said tell me his fucking name,” Tommy insists, his tone filled with intensity.

Ada turns her gaze onto him, irritated. “Freddie fucking Thorne,” she replies scathingly.

Tommy pauses, a sudden unease settling upon him. His stomach churns, making him feel off kilter.

"Yeah," Ada affirms with a nod, her anger escalating by the second. “Your best mate since fucking school,” she emphasises, curling her lips into a deep scowl, “the man who saved your life in France.”

Unable to bear listening to her any longer, Tommy abruptly turns on his heel and heads towards the exit. Ada's voice echoes behind him, filled with raw emotion. “So go on!” She yells, her voice cracking slightly. “Go and cut him! Cut him up and chuck him in the cut!”

Her words pierce Tommy's heart like salt poured into an open wound. He passes by the clerk and swiftly exits the theatre, stepping out into the chilly air. Ada doesn't follow him, and Tommy doesn't blame her. There will be time to apologise later. For now, he strides across the road to where Arthur and John stand, motioning for them to accompany him.

"Is everything alright with Ada?" John asks as they walk up the street. The midday sun peeks through the thick clouds, signalling a slight improvement in the weather, though it remains far from warm.

Tommy remains silent, causing a frown to crease John's brow. They continue walking in tense silence until Arthur summons the courage to inquire, "Alright, Tommy. Where the bloody hell are you leading us?"

"Nine lives around here," Tommy replies curtly. "He's going to track down that bastard Freddie Thorne for me."

"Jesus Christ," mutters John, his disbelief evident in his tone.