Gun metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)

"Are you a whore?"

But he, that dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose.

Maybe it was the way in which he said it that made her not want to answer him. Maybe it was the way he scrutinised her under his stare.

Dorothy stares back at Thomas. She reckoned if she put on the same face he had, then he'd back down.
She was wrong.

Dorothy squinted her eyes at him and wrinkled her nose up in a fashion that looked like he was a foul smell that didn't go away.
She surprised both of them when she spoke, "what made you think it was okay to build a house in the woods?" Her glare, though weak, was still harsh and scratchy.

Thomas did not answer, he didn't look at her at all, in fact. He only shifted his gaze to the whiskey bottle in front of him, reading the contents of the drink.

Dorothy huffed when she realised she wasn't going to get any answers from him.
It was in that moment Dorothy had a small revelation, though it was a bit late coming, "why am I still here? He can't keep me here, I need to go home and cook food for Papa."
With a huff and a bit of stumbling she lifted herself out of the chair that felt like it almost consumed her body when she sat down in it.

Stalking towards the door slowly, she pondered over what she could make for a dinner that evening only to be stopped by a gruff voice that made her squeak, quietly, startled.

"And where do you think you're going?"
She stared back at him, a sense of rage bubbled inside her, but she would not let it get the best of her.

"Home?" She answered as more of a question than statement.

He sighed again, he seemed to be doing that a lot tonight.
"No. No you're not. You need to stay here til tomorrow, if those coppers see you outside of this house before tomorrow, then they'll come back here to check this house again." His explanation, though justified, felt like a weak excuse in her eyes.

"Why should I care about helping him?" A much ruder side of her brain argued.

Even though this man had threatened her and put her in a VERY uncomfortable situation. She decided that he clearly was in need of her assistance in whatever he had gotten himself into, and had the guts to ask. Sort of ask.

She walked back to the armchair that seemed innocent enough to the unsuspecting soul, and stared at it as if it was going to eat her whole. She knew the truth, she knew it would. Bastard.

Thomas was about to comment on her strange behaviour, when she did something even more strange.
She gasped, as a look of horror passed over her face.

She started scanning the room for something, it was at this point Thomas came to terms with the fact that he was going to be spending the night with someone who was supposed to be in the Nuthouse.

When she rushed over towards the direction of the door again, he did not say anything, only watching her.

Dorothy bent down and picked up, what looked to be an assortment of jagged metal and glass, only which turned out to be a camera. A camera in two parts.

She assumed that she must have dropped it in her shock of being pulled into the house.

Cameras at were bought at a costly expense, though he'd never really come into contact with many, he knew they were somewhat hard to come by.

Dorothy did not seem as fazed by the fact that her probably quite expensive camera was in two parts. Instead, she sheepishly smiled at the man in front of her.
"You don't happen to have a screwdriver, do you?"

She honestly didn't know how to fix it, but she thought she could give it a go. It seemed easy enough.

Thomas shook his head at the curious question.