tom holland imagines

how you get the girl

Tom pushed open the light blue door, and a bell sounded above his head. The sweet smell of dozens of kinds of flowers overtook him as he stepped inside and glanced around. He'd been past this tiny flower shop time and time again, but had never actually been inside. The outside of the shop was adorable, but inside was even better, and was everything one would imagine a flower shop to be. Rows upon rows of flowers filled the small space, pastel decorations covered every inch of what was not taken up by flowers. The only problem was that he had no idea where to start.

As if reading Tom's mind, you popped into view a few feet away after hearing the bell sound, "Good afternoon! Can I help you?"

"Oh!" Tom nearly jumped in surprise, but quickly shook it off, "I, um... I was just hoping to get some flowers for my mum. But 'm not sure where to start, I guess."

"I can definitely help with that!" you chirped, setting the vase you were holding down on the counter nearby, "What were you looking for?"

You looked exactly what Tom imagined someone who worked in a flower shop would look like. He didn't know how to describe it, but you just gave off the kind of aura that one might have if they worked in a flower shop. Bright and sunny; that was how he would describe you, had he been asked. In somewhat of a trance as he watched you practically flitted between rows of flowers, he nearly forgot that you'd asked a question.

"Sir?"

Your question shook him from his thoughts, "Right, sorry. It's just— it's my mum's birthday. She loves all kinds of flowers, doesn't really have a favorite, which doesn't help me."

The sound that came out of your mouth was magical, and he wanted to hear you laugh again and again. Nodding, you pursed your lips in thought, "Alright. Well, I could tell you what some flowers mean, and we could go from there?"

Tom knew that he would have to head home soon so he wouldn't miss dinner with his family, but he could spare a few extra minutes to listen to you talk about flowers, "That would be amazing, if you don't mind..."

Before either of you had realized, nearly twenty minutes had gone by. You'd spent the entire time taking Tom around the small shop, showing him flowers and explaining what each of them meant. Tom, on the other hand, could barely pay attention to what you were saying. He was much too entranced by the way you talked about the flowers, your eyes lighting up every so often. It wasn't often that he saw someone get so excited about their job, especially in this way.

"So, what were you thinking?"

Once again, Tom had to shake himself out of his thoughts and glanced around before giving you a smile, "How about the daisies? I know she likes those."

"Sure, we can do that! Any colors in particular?"

"How about... white and yellow?"

You nodded in reply, giving him a smile, and even though it didn't really matter, he felt validated that you seemed to approve of his choices, "Of course! I'll get a bouquet ready. Just give me a minute..."

Tom leaned against the counter, still watching you intently as you picked the perfect flowers for the bunch. He realized after a moment that it was probably a bit creepy, so he tried to make conversation, "I've seen this shop so many times, but I've never been inside; it's lovely in here."

"Oh, thank you!" you smiled, still focused on your work.

"Do you own the shop? Or do you just work here?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't own it, but I might as well. The owner is an elderly lady, and she doesn't stop by often, usually lets me run the place the best I can."

"Ah," he nodded, placing money on the counter as you turned around to hand him the bouquet, "Well, you seem to run it well. I'll definitely stop by more often to pick up flowers for my mum. Thank you so much for your help!"