#I’m very much enjoying buck x tommy and I think it was a great choice but I would also be happy to see buddie happen if it works

[muchemoaboutnothing]

x

[imaginesbymk]

PINK + WHITE.

—CHAPTER TWO ; THE GREATEST CITY IN THE WORLD.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta.

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags in this chapter: swearing (in a different language), and i *tried* to add some fluff because luca’s charming teresa and just smoothly asking her out on a date *spoiler* but yeeee

[ chapter index / meet my oc / wattpad link ]

1919.

BEFORE ART DECO became a widespread aesthetic, Teresa instead promoted the wonders of oil landscapes. And yes, Luca Changretta paid a visit to the Penarth gallery that day. It was him and two of his relatives that tagged along to the day's trip, walking behind him. People would assume Luca had business to attend to, meetings were always important as he kept a tight schedule, but he couldn't help but squeeze in an ounce of leisure.

It started with marble floors and art, and Luca silently wishing to himself he could reserve the entire museum for himself. All he needed was to simply request for one.

As for Teresa, she strolls around the floor after finishing up paper work in her office, and enjoyed the privilege to look around as part of her job, when she entered the same section Luca and his men were strolling in, the space of the renaissance.

"This one's my favourite." Teresa faced the tall man, and he perked up when he noticed a woman had caught onto a gaze. He noticed the dress she wore for the job, and her ID pinned on her chest. "It just speaks to me, eh? I'd like that hung in my home, where I can walk pass it every morning. Don't tell me. It's worth almost a million pounds?"

Teresa turned to what he was looking at. Indeed, the piece were a lot of people’s favourites. It just couldn't belong to anyone, unfortunately.

"Oh, I believe this painting isn't for sale," she smiles apologetically.

"I see. I'm more of a theatre man, anyway. But where I'm from, art speaks to our souls, and this painting deserves a spot here, truly."

Teresa studied him from head to toe. His suit looked new and clean, including the two other men accompanying him while they kept their distance a few feet apart looking around. All three of them wore pressed suits with hats to match them, and neither of them looked like they were from Penarth.

"Would you like some tea while I send a tour guide over your way?" Teresa asks politely, hoping to satisfy the handsome man's visit.

"That's kind of you. But I prefer having you show me around instead. You happen to be more passionate to everything here more than the actual tour guides."

It's not like she would get fired for being a tour guide for the day, but that wasn't technically her job by the hour. Teresa holds account for activity coordination, fundraising and selectively hand pick artwork and design from various staff members.

But hey, what the hell. She blushed. "Right! Well, you can ask me anything. I grew up reading art history books and wishing to paint just like every artist credited here." She eyed him again, now clasped onto curiosity over the mysterious man. "What's that accent?"

"I'm American," the man tips his fedora, lowering a smile down at her. "From the greatest city in the world."

"New York." He didn't even need to say it. A lot of people love New York, anyway. Plus his accent kind of gave it away.

The man nodded. "We get a lot of you Welsh people back there quite often."

"When I was in college I visited New York," she pointed out.

The man raised his brow. "Really?"

"Yeah. It was a year after the Titanic sank to the bottom of the ocean, before the great war. So count me as lucky."

"I could of met you," he said. "Where were you? Brooklyn? Had to deal with liquor business there." Which that reminded him he had a meeting in a couple hours.

"Had to visit someone in the Bronx," Teresa nodded while noticing the men approaching Luca from behind like they were attached to him. "Well, Mr. New York, welcome to Penarth. And welcome to the Penarth Art Gallery. Your visit is greatly appreciated.”

"Grazie . . . Miss Tour Guide." Thank you. Italian-American, then. Teresa smiled, so intrigued by this man as she kept observing him looking around.

"Well," she smiles humbly at the three men. "Let's start, shall we? You've all seen the renaissance, but how about Pablo Picasso..."

It switched afterwards. The atmosphere, the attitude, the comfort. And she was quick to notice while she spoke the whole time, the men listening to her, often times just letting her words enter through one ear and out the other. But Teresa was smart. He didn't quite keep his distance from the art as it was a rule, and stared down at the labels of all the paintings Teresa introduced, studying it in a way that had nothing to do with admiring, but more likely guessing the pricing.

Teresa gradually realized the man is just using his American identity as his own privilege into getting a personal tour around the gallery instead of gathering with different guests. She jumped one step ahead to know he would later ask for private access to hidden artworks that aren't placed public to the museum for the next few months in hopes of buying them.

"None of the art here is for sale," Teresa grew confident in her tone. "Art should never be in the hands of Americans who have no business being in a gallery to begin with."

The man shot his eyes toward her. "Do you have any idea who you're talkin' to, Miss Tour Guide?" his voice lowered until it no longer sounded friendly as before.

"I'm not afraid of you, Mr. New York," Teresa folded her arms.

"You should be."

"Guests come here to feast their eyes on the subject of emotions, dreams and tragedy, not for buying them."

"Well maybe," the man leaned a bit closer. "You should reconsider handling things around here, because one day someone will take away your paintings, you'll walk in here dying inside every time you walk past an empty space on the wall where your personal favourites used to be hung."

"Basdun." Teresa wasn't afraid to insult the man in Welsh, too.

"Very unprofessional to insult a guest, no?"

"Luca," one of the men moved closer behind him. "Non ne vale la pena."

"Mi sto solo divertendo qui, Matteo," Luca responded while he smirked at Teresa.

The other man chimed in. "Non puoi vincere. Lei è una pistola."

"Okay, basta," the man, Luca, rolled his eyes back a bit when he turned to his attention to the men behind him. He looked at Teresa again while telling them, "Lasciami con lei."

"What does that mean? What did they say to you?" Teresa demanded, confused. "Did they insult me in Italian?"

The men leave, Luca and Teresa remaining inside the empty section of the gallery, with pastel landscapes surrounding them.

"Actually, Miss Tour Guide. I hope you can spare five more minutes of your time."

"Teresa Griffith."

He nodded. That was easy. "Miss Griffith, allow me to explain myself. This art gallery you own, it's a shame nothing here is for sale. Imagine how much money you'd be making selling Van Gogh's Starry Night at an auction, or that disturbing painting of that naked man eating a little boy."

"Saturn Devouring His Son."

"Yeah that. The first painting that I fell in love with was the School of Athens, my mother showed me that one. Then it was the sculpture of Pietà. I even visited the Louvre."

"So have I," Teresa shrugged.

"Anything to do with the tragedies or emotions that you speak of, that comes to my eye. Amore is one hell of a blueprint for painters."

"Your point being?"

"I'm what you call a businessman, and I was actually nice enough to give you constructive criticism." Luca faced a self portrait painting while he spoke.

Teresa shook her head, hoping something—anything, would come up so she would no longer have to deal with this man's nonsense. Whatever he was doing, it was probably stalling. The two men that were with him were probably thieves and that this man was just charming her away so she would be to blame after it's all over.

Or maybe he was just being a nuisance on purpose. "I don't need you to tell me how to run a gallery, and it seemed to me it was more of an attack rather than providing constructive criticism."

"Well, that was part of the plan. I make you use your time on me as my personal tour guide just so I could be with you," Luca says, eyeing down the use of colour of the portrait. "And to ask you if you were free tomorrow night."

There it was, the point. Teresa was more than ready to smack the hell out of a total stranger before she could get ahold of authorities, but she could now barely hold a steady breath. The room suddenly felt still, even the temperature to keep the air tight drew goosebumps on her skin. Were her ears clogged, or was this man that was at first giving her a hard time, asking her out on a date?

"I'm sorry?"

"I’m Luca Changretta, by the way." He took off his fedora hat so he held it against his chest. Dark hair, slicked back. "A whole half hour has gone by, one more and you get paid another forty bucks."

"Well," Teresa bit her lip. "You came off as if you were only here to buy my workplace, and what makes this workplace the way it is. I don't know you, and I don't think you'd want to take me out."

"Why is that? You keep a tight schedule? So do I."

"It's not that. I mean, I do. But I think you'd grow bored of me within the first hour of spending time with me.“

"Like I said, Miss Griffith. I'm a lover of theatre. We met half an hour ago and I’m far more interested in you than what makes your workplace the way it is,” he shamelessly repeated her words. ”And I plan on taking you out to the grand theatre to see the performers put on a show, a moving painting. To me it's New York's grimy perspective, but set here in Penarth.”

Teresa tensed up when she felt her cheeks flush a bright red.

"Whaddaya say?" Luca smiles. "One date."

After all, she booked Monday off tomorrow to get a head start on coordinating future events, but maybe she’ll use that freebie to see a show with a handsome man.

“Sure,” she nodded.

+ pls be mindful that my pinch of knowledge of italian in this chapter/story overall isn’t gonna be fluent, so pls bare w/ me! —mk.