101 Thomas Brodie Sangster Imagines

Asking Her Dad

Asking Her Dad

Thomas Pov

I’ve been pacing the room for about 20 minutes. Back and forth nervously, waiting for (Y/N)’s dad to walk through the door. I know (Y/N) is a huge Daddy’s girl, so this conversation is going to be rough. I hear the sound of tires coming up the driveway. i peek out the window and see her dad driving up. I feel my breathing get faster and more raspy. I try to calm myself and fix my collar and tie. My hands begin to shake as I walk over to the front door. I wait impatiently at the door for (Y/N)’s dad to walk up the front steps and on to the porch. I hold my breath as I hear him knock slowly, but loud. I reach for the door, my hand still shaking vigorously. I take one last deep breath and turn the cold, metal doorknob. I see (Y/N)’s dad, his face is emotionless. I take another deep breath before welcoming him in.

“Hello, sir,” I say, nervously. “Come in,” I gesture inside for him to come in. He gives me a short nod and walks in. I let out a sigh of relief. Well, I got that over with.

“Umm… I can take your coat,” I tell him as he slips his coat off and I take it from him. “Would you like anything to drink?” I ask before hanging the coat up on the coat rack.

“Water is fine. Thank you,” he tells me. I look at his face, still no emotions. Blank. I put the coat on the rack and fill two cups with water. I bring it back out to (Y/N)’s dad, in the living room. He’s already made himself at home, on my couch. I hand him the cut and he takes it, sipping it slowly. I take a seat in front of him, on the rocker.

“So, how have you been, sir?” I ask. He gives me a weird look.

“Why do you call me sir? Why not call me by my name?” he asks. I shrug.

“Alright, Ron, how have you been?” I ask, emphasizing his name.

“I’m good,” he replies, his face emotionless again.

“That’s good,” I say. I rub the back of my neck, nervously, as I try to make small talk.

“Alright, Thomas, why did you really ask me to come over? Because I know you didn’t want to just talk about how I’ve been,” Ron blurts, after an awkward silence.

“Okay, okay. I did tell you to come here for a reason. A very important reason actually,” I say. I feel my hands start to shake again. I take a deep breath and exhale. I look down at my feet and start fidgeting with my hands.

“Ron, sir, I’d like to ask you for your blessing, to marry your daughter,” I say, looking him straight in the eye. I see tears form in Ron’s eyes. It’s the first real emotion he’s had since he got here.

“Sir, I love her. She means everything to me. I couldn’t picture my life without her and I can’t believe I got through life without her, before we met. I’m in love, sir,” I tell Ron. I know he told me not to call him sir, but it just felt right. Then I see a tear roll down his cheek as Ron looks down at his own feet.

“You really do love her, don’t you?” he says quietly. He looks up and makes eye contact with me.

“I do, with all my heart,” I tell him, trying to convince him of my love for his daughter. “And I know you will always be the first man to ever love her, but I’m asking for your permission to be number two,” I say. I don’t know where the words came from, but they must have got to him because I saw a few more tears escape his eyes.

“I need you to know she will always be my little girl,” Ron said. I could just see a hint of sadness and fright in his eyes.

“Of course,” I say. Then Ron stands up and walks over to me. I stand up too. He sticks out his hand and I shake it.

“I’m not saying ‘yes’, unless I know that you are the have that makes her whole,” Ron says. My heart drops and I open my mouth to debate on the subject, when Ron continues “Yes,”

My heart goes from dropping to the ground, to jumping out of my body. I can’t help, but smile. I see a small smile come across Ron’s face when he sees mine.

“You better treat her right! You hear me?” Ron says, losing his smile.

“She’ll be treated like a queen,” I inform him. Ron’s smile reappears on his face and so does mine. I shake his hand one more time before he grabs his jacket and leaves. I watch him through the window, but he must not see me because when he gets to his car he puts his head in his hands. I can tell he’s crying. It must be hard to let go of your only daughter. I only hope I’ll be able to love my daughter and/or son the way he loves (Y/N).

 

(A/N):

Okay, so I hope everyone liked this. I actually came up with this idea when I was listening to the song “My Little Girl” by Tim McGraw. So that was kind of my inspiration. I actually used some of the lyrics in it. This means a lot to me because I’m such a Daddy’s girl and this kind of stuff really gets to me and I hope everyone who reads it feels the same way. Thanks a bunch.