He rolled onto his back letting out a sigh, fuck he was so tired. The night was spent tossing and turning, his mind wouldn't stop racing with thoughts of the unknown that he was soon to endure. His eyes felt like sandpaper was scraping past them with each blink, his mouth was so dry that it was an effort to lick his lips successfully in an attempt to wet them. He'd kicked the bed sheets off of himself in the night as they clung to his sweaty body and he found himself constantly turning the pillow over in a desperate attempt to reach the cold side.

He'd just been called up for the War.

He wasn't sure yet what his main duty would be, would he be called up to the front? Digging trenches? A sniper man, maybe? A tunneler? God he hoped he wouldn't be a tunneler, he'd hated confined spaces ever since he was a child. His older brother, Arthur, would often trap him in their mothers wardrobe whenever they were fighting over something or he just wanted some entertainment. The sound of his brothers pleas for freedom did nothing but make Arthur laugh even more each time a scream came from the young trapped Shelby lad until their mother set the poor boy free from his dark holding. She'd always be sure to give Arthur a swift hiding on the backside each time which he'd come to see as worthwhile if it meant he got to torment his younger brother.

Tommy could feel his throat closing up just at the memory, the air in the room suddenly appearing thinner as if someone had turned a dial and was slowly shutting off the oxygen. He brought his hands up to his throat and began clawing at it as if to try and remove an imaginary pair of hands he was convinced were squeezing it, tightly.

Don't think about it, Tom.

Trying to regain back some kind of control, he lowered his hands back down to his sides and slowly closed his eyes before making sure to take some deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. His mother had taught him that trick as he was growing up, "the best way to get that breath of yours back!", she'd told him.

He'd soon come to find that it was also a neat little trick for when he'd been out stealing small rolls of bread at the bakers to help feed the family, times were hard, he couldn't let his mother see that he was out of breath from running away and then have to explain the reason behind it. He smiled at the memory and soon realized that he had gained back the control of his breathing, with each breath as smooth as the last.

He rolled over once more to grab a cigarette from his bedside table along with the lighter laying next to it. Lighting the end he laid back down on the bed with one arm rested behind his head, taking a drag of the cigarette that was now in between his fingers.

His mind quickly wandered back to everything that had kept him up all night and the thought of knowing he was about to enter a new chapter in his life. He knew that to begin with he'd have to go through some very basic training, how long this would be for he didn't know, he just knew he'd probably go on to do whatever job he was assigned very under-prepared due to the need for more men to help fight for their country, and fast. 

His brothers, Arthur and John, had also been called up. His youngest brother Finn was still not old enough, a blessing he'd admit to being relieved by. If the three were all to die in combat then at least there would still be a male Shelby to carry on the family name.

He took another drag.

His mind raced then as he thought about all he'd be leaving behind. His beautiful white horse that was a gift from his mother, the freedom of being able to do what he wanted when he wanted, to go wherever he wanted when he wanted. The woods just past the cut that he'd often escape to, trying to relieve his mind of the pressures of the city. His mother. His father. Finn. Aunt Pol. You.

He felt a pang of sadness suddenly hit him in the chest and was surprised to feel a rush of tears enter his eyes but wouldn't allow them to spill out, no chance, if he started he was afraid he'd never stop.

The cigarette had now burnt right down nearly to the filter, his thoughts pretty much wasting the time he could have spent smoking it. He rolled over again and stamped the wasted nub out into the ashtray he kept on his bedside table before once again laying down, this time rolling over onto his left hand side.

A smile grew onto his lips as he saw you sleeping peacefully beside him. He brought a hand up and gently stroked the hair that had found itself covering your eye away so that he could see every inch of your face. 'So beautiful'.

You'd first met Tommy as a young girl whilst playing out on the dim dirty streets of Birmingham. The pair of you had soon become inseparable and it was a known fact that wherever the Shelby boys went, you went too.

You were often being told off for not 'acting like a girl' by your parents, when you'd rather skin your knee's climbing walls into places you weren't meant to go in, or sneak into the pub with Tommy and his brothers to try and drink whatever leftover alcohol people had abandoned in glasses on empty tables, you didn't see the need in making sure you looked presentable all the time.

Tommy loved that about you. Your carefree, determined attitude to do whatever you wanted to do instead of being trapped by other peoples thoughts and opinions about what they thought you should be doing. Even now you were a young woman, that attitude had never changed.

His eyes shifted as you began to stir from your sleep, his hand gently cupping your cheek.

"Morning", he smiled, happy that you'd finally woken from your slumber.

He'd watched you sleep throughout the night, the constant worries of leaving you behind plunging themselves into his thoughts. He'd had to fight them off each time and reassure himself that you'd be okay back here in England with his mother and aunt Pol. They'd make sure to keep you occupied and keep your mind busy to try and warn off any bad thoughts about Tommy's well being, as much as they could anyway.

You opened your eyes fully before squinting, the room now brighter than you'd expected it to be. You heard Tommy let out a chuckle as you pulled the duvet up closer around your chin and slightly nuzzled the pillow.

"Morning", you managed to murmur, "what time is it?"

"Just after 5:30, you can go back to sleep if you want to, you need your rest", his hand was now back to stroking your hair away from your face, each brief graze of his fingers sending the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. How did this man do it? Any time he touched you no matter how briefly was like it was for the first time all over again. Electric.

"No, I want to be with you, savoring every second before..." the realization hit you then. Today was the day he had to leave for God knows how long. Maybe forever.

As your voice trailed off he knew you were probably finding things just as hard as he was, he knew you didn't want to be apart from him either. What he didn't know was that you'd been in a constant stream of nightmares all night, terrible ones. Images of bombs going off, men being gunned down, tunnels collapsing... and you wasn't about to tell him either.

His hand was around your waist then, gently pulling you in closer as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. He didn't have the words to tell you just how much he'd miss you, how you'd be on his mind every second of every terrifying day. How even though he'd carry your picture with him wherever he went, he was so scared of forgetting each and every angle of your face, the way your nose slightly curved upwards at the tip, the way your lips would feel as they touched his, soft. So soft.

The thing he was most scared of though was forgetting the sound of your voice, how it sounded as you called his name in any capacity, and your laugh, God he hoped he didn't forget that. The noise was music to his ears every time even though you always said you hated the way it sounded.

He also didn't have the words to tell you just how scared he was. Not just scared, he was absolutely petrified. It was probably a good thing because he didn't want to make you worry even more, he had to put on some kind of strong front for the both of you. He was determined that he would be coming back home.Back home to the streets of Birmingham, the woods behind the cut, his family, you.

Neither of you spoke for a while, instead you lay holding one another in the perfect sanctuary of Tommy's bed. Though neither of you said it you both wanted this moment to last forever, you wanted to feel his breath gently brushing past your cheek, his slightly rough skin on the pads of his fingertips grazing every part of your body as if to tease you, his lips pressed to yours, bliss. One thing you knew for certain was that you’d miss it all while he wasn’t there.

But time was cruel and waited for no one, it was time to get up and get ready to leave for the station.

- - -

Once at the station neither of you could hold in the tears that were forming in your eyes. You let out another sob as you flung your arms around Tommy's neck, you didn't care if his uniform got a bit wet and creased, there was no way in hell that you weren't going to hold him for what could be the last time before he stepped onto that train.

Tommy had convinced his mother and aunt Pol to stay behind at the house, he knew his mother would be in pieces having to say goodbye to three of her four sons, watching them step onto the train one by one not knowing if she'd ever get to see their faces again.

John and Arthur had already gotten onto the train. With no one to say goodbye to at the station they couldn't bare to watch mothers and sons, families with children, men with their girlfriends getting to share that last hug before the men went off into the unknown, not knowing if their feet would ever touch the soil in Birmingham again. They'd rather block it out, just get on with it and deal with their emotions in private, they never wanted to be seen as weak.

A whistle blew on the platform, signalling that it was time to start boarding the train. Your stomach tensed up and you could have sworn that you didn't know how you managed not to throw up where you stood. This was the moment you had been dreading, or so you thought.

"Please, come home to me", your voice was shaky through the sobs, your hands cupping each side of Tommy's face, "I don't want to live a life where you're not in it".

Your words were like daggers to Tommy's heart and he brought his hands up to cover your own, "I will do everything I possibly can to come back to you, even if I have to dig a tunnel all the way back to Birmingham myself, I'd do it for you".

Your foreheads pressed together for a moment before Tommy released his hands from yours and gently lifted your chin with a finger. He placed a gentle, loving kiss to your lips. You silently begged for the kiss to never end but of course it did and as you both pulled away you could see the tears still running from his eyes, rolling over his cheekbones and onto the station platform.

Another whistle.

He bent down to pick up his bag that held the very few possessions he owned, the most important one being his photograph of you, it was a portrait he'd taken himself on a camera that he'd stolen from an upmarket shop on their visit to London one year. "The most beautiful girl to ever exist", he'd said.

"C'mon lad, time to go", shouted another man in a deep, burly voice as he walked past Tommy, giving him a slap on the shoulders as he did so.

"I'll write to you, I promise", he planted one last sweet kiss upon your lips.

Tommy’s eyes were still flowing with tears, he used the back of his hand to wipe his nose as he slowly started backing away from the love of his life, his feet aching to step forward, his arms screaming at him to reach out and grab your hand to run out of the station and into those woods behind the cut that you'd so often visit together. But he couldn't.

Before either of you knew it he was at the train door, a bustle of men all stepping on one by one. Tommy took one last look at you and tried his best to give you a smile before he too took a step onto the train.

The sobs that hadn't stopped since you'd left the Shelby household that morning continued, the sound blending in with what seemed to be the majority of the women's sobs on the platform. How could any of them ever stop? Their partners, dad's, brothers, uncles and so on were leaving to fight in a dangerous war, one that they knew wouldn't be forgiving. And God knows how long this war was going to last for, it could be months before the men, come soldiers, could even imagine the pure relief of being allowed to come home.

One final whistle.

The train doors were closed one by one by the conductor, a grimace on his face with every slam of the wooden frames, almost as an apology to the loved ones standing on the platform waving goodbye, as if he felt responsible for sending the men off into what could possibly be their death.

The steam started spilling from the funnel atop the train and the sound of the engine pumping as coal was being piled into the boiler at the front started to fill the air. Ever so slowly the trains wheels began to turn and as they did so the men all stuck their heads out of the windows, hoping to catch a last glimpse of their loved ones.

You saw him, clear as day. Tommy had his head poking out of a window, two men had also stuck their heads above his, trying to wave at their families. He waved at you, tears in his eyes, the smile that he'd tried to throw in your direction before stepping on the train now well and truly gone, instead a look of worry and sorrow was written all over his face. You were sure that the same was on yours too.

His features began to get less distinctive as the train crept further and further away until eventually you could no longer distinguish which face belonged to him, the distance too great. You continued to stand there until the train was nearly out of sight, and that’s when you realised, this was the moment you were dreading the most.