PROMPT: It's December 1940, and one British soldier is determined to propose to his girlfriend before going off to join the war. But an overprotective, stubborn father might get in the way of his plans (Loosely based off the movie USS Indianapolis: Men of Courage)
WORDS: 966
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New York, 25th December 1940
"Tommy!" I rush out of the warmth of the fancy restaurant to the bitter cold of the winter flurries that fell on the streets of the city.
Tom walked fast despite the slight crowds. I weaved through the people. Tugging my coat tighter around my torso.
Once I almost matched his speed I called to him again this time pulling at his arm.
"Tommy, please. He didn't mean it," I tried to plead with him. He turned sharply towards me.
"He really didn't know that you were slumming it down with a 'city slicker', did he?" He spat out, using my father's terminology.
"Daddy didn't mean it. He's just..." I ran my gloved fingers through my hair. "He just doesn't understand city folk like you that's all."
"What am I supposed to do? He's never going to like me!" Tom says out of exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air then using them to cover his face.
My eyes soften at the sight of his distraught.
People walk around us and some made rude comments about blocking the way. It all faded out for me.
"Tommy," I say softly, stepping closer. I place one of my hands on his upper arm gently. My thumb runs over the fabric of his jacket in comfort. "He'll cave eventually. I promise. Maybe it'll be in a year or so, or maybe even earlier, like a few months."
The small smile I mustered up disappears when his hands dropped and revealed a sorrow stricken Tom.
"You don't understand! Today was supposed to be the day! Have everything worked out before I go!" He chokes out, voice raw. He looks down at the ground.
I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion.
"Before you go?" I question. "What are you talking about?"
I feared his answer. I wasn't stupid. A war was going on, and men were getting plucked from all their loved ones left and right.
I try to read his face with my eyes.
He meets my gaze when he lifts his head up.
"I got a letter from Harrison the other day. He said that Sam and Harry went to go join the war effort, and that he, too, was going to join himself."
My head begins to shake. "No," I breathe out. My nightmare was coming true.
"(Y/N) I have to do this. I can't just sit here and watch my country go to war. It's my country I have to fight for it. For my friends, for my family, for you."
My head still shakes. I didn't want to listen anymore but I knew I had to.
"They started training here in September. In a years time the war may be over here, and I can't stand the thought of you in danger."
My breath hitches. My heart pounding in my chest threatening to break my ribs. "No, Tommy, you can't," I plead.
His hand is brought up to my cheek. "I need to do this (Y/N). I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't," he confessed.
"I can't lose you," I whisper with tears in my eyes.
"You won't. I promise," he tells me.
"How can you know?" I ask, wiping away some tears off my cheek.
Tom takes a big breath. "Because," he begins. His hand goes to the pocket of his jacket pulling out a ring.
My eyes widen flashing to meet his. His gaze was one of love and adoration.
My brain rushes to put the pieces together.
"Daddy didn't give you his blessing," I mumble, solemnly.
Tom shakes his head. "He didn't but I still feel like I must do this."
He takes a step closer to me.
"I know it isn't much. It's all I could afford," he almost apologizes.
"Tommy, it's beautiful," I tell him, wanting him to continue.
He gulps out of nervousness. He takes my left hand in his free hand.
"I love you (Y/N) (L/N)," he states firmly.
He tries to pull my glove off with difficulty as he was doing it with one hand. I help pull it off, shoving it in my coat pocket.
He lifts up my hand by my fingers.
"And with this ring," he slides the ring on to my ring finger, "I promise that the second I get back we will be wed. That is, if you will have me as a husband."
His eyes stared at me like he might've gone too far.
I couldn't speak. I just nodded my head eagerly, a smile plastered on my face. He smiled brightly back.
He lets go of my left hand and cups my face. We quickly close the gap between us. The fingers of my left hand played with the hairs at the nape of neck.
His arms wrapped around my waist, bringing me closer. We pulled apart but still stayed close together.
I reluctantly ask the question I needed to ask.
"When are you leaving?"
I could feel his arms tense around me.
"I'm getting on the next ship," he pauses, "tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow?" I ask sadly, pulling away from the embrace.
"Hey, don't worry. I promise I will come back." He rubbed my cheek soothingly.
I knew he couldn't promise a thing like that, especially if he was going off to war. But I had to believe his words. I just had to.
