He knew the incident affected you, of course it did. You were shot, for god sakes. He knows how hard it is for you to— cope with what happened, and to move forward from it.

However, he didn't exactly agree with your.. coping mechanisms.

He didn't notice it at first, but when the pack had fallen out of your pocket— it was difficult not to make the distinction.

He felt bad for you, he did. But- he was also upset. You're actively harming yourself, and he hated that. He loved- liked, respected- you, and seeing you resort to.. that disgusting habit hurt his heart.

He wanted you to be happy and healthy, which meant he had to take a stand. In his own way, of course.

Once he had seen you get up, he made the switch. He took the cigarettes out of the box and replaced them with candy cigarettes, putting it back in your jacket pocket. No one else had noticed and you had gone to the bathroom, so he was in the clear.

Time had passed and eventually, the day was over. So, he waited for you to grab your jacket and walked out with you, like always. The two of you had entered the parking garage and you told him to 'go on without you' and 'you have to take care of something real quick.' He shook his head and offered to stay with you, and you hesitantly accepted the company.

You pulled one of the cigarettes out of the pack and grabbed your light when you noticed the sugary appearance of the cigarette. Your brows furrowed and you smelt the sweet scent of candy. You looked visibly confused and Spencer immediately speaks.

"I- I changed them out. Smoking isn't good for you, and- and I'm worried about you. Did you know that- that- smoking kills 8 million a year and- and-" He sighs and runs his hands through his hair.

"You're one of my favorite people and I don't- don't want you to smoke. Let- Let me help you quit, okay? please? And- if- if that means talking or buying you gum, I'll do it." He lets out a soft whine as he finishes talking.

God, he really did care.