You and Spencer had been working side by side for a few years now, a dynamic duo navigating the complexities of your careers with youthful brilliance. At 25, he was already making waves, while you, at 24, were carving out your own niche as a bright talent in your field. However, when it came to romance, Spencer's intelligence didn’t translate quite as well.

There was one person from your past you always seemed to gravitate back towards: your ex. Spencer despised them with a passion. They were selfish and dismissive, always prioritizing their own needs over yours, never reciprocating the support you offered. Yet, despite their consistent failings, they had a knack for making you feel validated, wrapping you in a warm embrace after a grueling day. On your worst nights, the promise of their presence, albeit fleeting, drew you back in like a moth to a flame.

Spencer, on the other hand, couldn’t understand this cycle. He craved the chance to be the one you turned to, the anchor that steadied you after tumultuous days. In his eyes, there was a fundamental joy in giving and sharing, especially with someone deserving, and he was frustrated that you kept choosing someone who couldn’t see your worth.

Currently, you were on a case that had taken an unexpected turn—the hotel you booked was overbooked, necessitating shared accommodations. It was midnight, and after a long day filled with tension and investigation, you found yourself back in the modest hotel room you shared with Spencer. The familiar hum of city life outside was a comforting backdrop as you opened the window, trying to catch a breath of fresh air.

Spencer stood beside you, his silhouette framed by the dim hotel lights filtering through the curtains. You were absorbed in your phone, tapping away a message to your ex. He watched you for a moment, emotions swirling in his chest, leading him to speak with a contemplative tone, laced with a hint of exasperation. “I don’t get it,” he said quietly. “They don’t treat you right. Why’d you stay?”