It had been hours. Well, one hour, but it felt like millions.

It was Spencer’s weekend off, and rather than actually resting, he was sat at his desk, flipping through folders and writing down stuff down in a file, trying to help the team figure out who was responsible for a string of murders in California. Seriously, what the fuck?!

Dramatic as always, you rolled around on the floor, waiting for his attention to be bestowed on you, rather than some tattoo he’d spent the last hour decoding. It was getting ridiculous (atleast, that’s what you thought), and like the needy girlfriend you were, you weren’t going to go down without a fight.

“Spencer,” You groan, elongating the ‘r’ sound, as you tug on the end of his trousers, taking note of the mismatched socks, “It’s been forever, come on!” Never in the history of ever has there been such a whiny voice. He might’ve confused you for a child, had he not known you to be in the habit of getting a tad impatient when it came to him finishing his work.

“Go play on your switch, honey, I’ll be done in a minute,” He says, which translates to ‘i’ll never be done, and will be obsessing over this until i find the answer, so you might as well accept it and entertain yourself with something else’. You’d be annoyed if the word ‘honey’ didn’t cause butterflies to appear in your stomach, making you feel sickly sweet.