Tumblr OTP Prompt: Imagine someone telling Person A, "You can't just expect the right person to fall out of the sky!" Shortly after, Person B falls out of the sky.

"So when are you gonna find a girl?"

Tom rolls his eyes. It's not like they hadn't breached this subject before, and it definitely wasn't the first time, or even the third or fourth, that the same question had been asked. "I'll find someone when I'm ready, Quinn."

Quinn gives his friend an exasperated look. "There's plenty of girls who're into you. Girls like Lisa or Rachel practically swoon whenever you come near them. Just ask one of them out."

"I want someone who I like, not just someone who likes me," Tom explains for the third or fourth time. "Those girls just aren't my type."

His friend doesn't seem to grasp this logic. "If you go out with them you will get to like them. That's the whole point of first dates. Anyway, what exactly is your type nowadays?"

Tom ponders this with a small frown. "My type is ... my type is... okay, I don't know exactly what my type is." At Quinn's smug know-it-all look he hastily continues. "But I'll know it when I meet them."

"What happened to the old Tom? Flirt Tom? Bad cheesy pick-up-lines Tom? The guy who likes having all the girls want him?" Quinn enquires.

Tom shrugs. "I guess I'm more of a soulmate person now."

"Well good luck with that," Quinn scoffs. They're standing in the park, just off the football pitch amongst the trees. It's a beautiful sunny day and the park is filled with chatter and noise. Families out with young children. Teenagers playing football and hanging about chatting in small groups. Couples in their own little worlds.

Quinn breaks the silence once more after a few moments. "What about Katie? She likes you, you like her. You've always liked her."

The other boy has no answer to that. Quinn carries on triumphantly, his grin wider now. "So - ask her out!"

"Yeah, because you know how well that went last time," Tom reminds him cuttingly.

Quinn shrugs non-committally. "Eh, past relationships don't matter most of the time. Use your Clarkey charm. Woo her!"

"Have you been reading those old-school romance books again, Quinnster?" Tom asks teasingly. Quinn easily recognises the weak attempt at changing the subject.

"If you don't ask her out, someone else will," Quinn warns him. "Get her while you still can."

"Maybe I don't want to ask her out," retorts Tom, but more quietly this time.

The older boy looks bemused but shrugs it off, shaking his head sadly and saying: "Ah well Clarkey. Your loss."

They share another awkward silence, before Quinn seems to straighten up, shaking himself as if awaking from a dream. "Well, better be off. See you at school tomorrow. Have fun being forever alone."

Tom grins. "I don't seem to recall you having a girlfriend yet, Quinn. Maybe I should be having this conversation with you."

"At least I'm trying," Quinn retorts. "I'm not just sitting back and thinking deluded thoughts about someone just coming to me. I'm using my natural allure on the girls. They can't resist me."

"Oh, so that's why you haven't got a girlfriend!" Tom teases. "Your supposed allure is scaring them all off."

Quinn shoves Tom in mock annoyance, though he's grinning. "Oy, cheeky. You just don't know about the powers of the allure since you're not gifted with it."

Tom tilts his head in confusion. "Er - okay?"

Quinn turns serious again. "Just remember, Tom, you can't just expect the right person to fall out of the sky. It's not as easy as that."

Tom smiles. "Wisdom noted, Quinn. I'll find the right person sometime."

Quinn doesn't look completely satisfied with that answer, but he doesn't pursue the subject any longer. They talk idly about other mundane things for a few minutes, then Quinn says goodbye and leaves Tom standing underneath the shade of the trees in the late morning sun, pondering over his conversation with Quinn. Is Quinn right? Should he be less fussy? Tom just seems to have this feeling that the right person is out there - somewhere.

Tom has drifted off a little, just listening idly to the birdsong with half closed eyes. He supposes he would look a little odd to anyone observing, but he is obscured partially by the thick mass of trees, and on a quieter side path so it's all right.

He just manages to hear the muted intake of breath above him before something hits his back quite hard, landing on top of him and knocking him to the ground. Tom gasps for air, the impact has left him winded and lying on his front, trying to breathe.

"Sorry!" apologizes a voice, sounding abashed and concerned. Tom looks up to see a girl hastily getting to her feet from where she had been lying on top of him just a moment ago. She looks around sixteen or seventeen, with short cropped blonde hair that frames large blue eyes and long curled eyelashes. Tom realises his mouth is open and he's dimly aware that she's saying something to him.

" - and I'm really sorry. Oh God, I feel so awkward."

"Did you just fall out of the sky?" Tom finds himself asking dumbly.

The girl looks confused. "Er, no. Well, sort of I suppose. I fell out of that tree, if that counts?"

"Close enough," Tom says, getting to his feet too. To his surprise, the girl is tall, taller than him by about half a foot.

Her smile is small, reserved, but pretty when it spreads across her face. "I read in trees all the time, but I guess today I drifted off. The next thing I know I'm falling out of it. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Tom assures her. "I play football, so I'm used to it."

"I've fallen out of a good few trees myself," the girl confesses sheepishly. "Reading in them, mainly."

Tom's mind is flashing back to what Quinn had said. 'You can't just expect the right person to fall out of the sky.'

The girl bends down to retrieve her book, which has landed spine-up, pages flayed out over the grass. Tom catches a glimpse of the cover as she picks it up. 'A Tale of Two Cities.' So she's one of those. A classical reader.

"What's your name?" Tom finds himself asking the girl.

Her eyes meet his and look at him shrewdly for a moment before answering brightly: "Lexi. My name is Lexi."

Lexi. An unusual, but unique name. Tom likes it, somehow. It suits her. He voices this opinion to the taller girl - he assumes older, too - who laughs lightly.

"Why, thank you -"

"Tom. Tom Clarke."

"Nice to meet you, Tom Clarke. Sorry again about the whole falling on you thing."

Tom grins. He decides he likes this girl. She seems quirky, and quite intelligent as well. Plus cute. Always a bonus. "It may be an unorthodox way to meet someone for the first time, but at least we're not boring."

Lexi giggles. "Nope. Definitely not boring."

They share a comfortable silence, then Lexi smiles ruefully. "I had better go. I always lose track of time. My older brother will be worrying." A small frown replaces the sunny smile for a moment. "Well, maybe 'worrying' is the wrong word."

Tom feels curious but doesn't press the subject, sensing Lexi doesn't want to talk about it. "Okay. See you around, Lexi."

"I'll try not to fall on top of you next time," Lexi jokes, running a hand through her feathered blond hair.

"I'll make sure to look up next time," Tom replies. He loves how easy it seems to be to talk to this girl, even though they've just met.

Lexi smiles. "Bye Tom."

"Bye Lexi," Tom answers quietly as the girl disappears through the trees, holding her book under one arm. He feels slightly dazed from the encounter but dismisses it as the effects of being fallen on before.

"Hey Quinn," Tom says into his phone a little later, sitting on a park bench in the middle of the park. "You know how you said that the right person won't just fall out of the sky? Well, I think she just did. Literally..."

A/N) I LOVE this prompt! It's so cute! I just had to write it.