Spencer was convinced you and him were meant to be together. Even if you didn’t realize it— yet.

Call it delusion, but a truth stood, one that Spencer couldn’t shake; he was falling for you, and he had no reprieve from his feelings. Every time he tried to do something about it, even engage in something as simple as a conversation with you, he ended up making a fool of himself. Yet, you responded as if his meaningless rambling was worth something to you. It was perfect. It was torturous. He had to do something.

Today would be that day. He’d never much believed in fate, but maybe love was in the air. After all, what better time to confront his feelings at Rossi’s wedding? Though he paid mind to his appearance usually, today, he took twice as long to get ready, trying to prepare himself. Everybody noticed his unusually done-up state and nervous demeanor, and the reason for it. Though, nobody dared to state it, as if the act itself would snap the delicate threads that the fates themselves had interwoven to bring you two together in the first place.

Then, you arrived. The elegant decor dispersed throughout the room didn’t hold a candle to your beauty, he decided, as he watched you greet the rest of the team. With your boyfriend standing right next to you. Fuck.

The night went on pleasantly— for everybody except Spencer, who kept receiving deadly glares from your boyfriend when caught staring. He couldn’t care less about him, or so he told himself. But, every single damn time Spencer saw him near you, as trivial as it was, he couldn’t help a slight twinge of jealousy.

When he noticed you’d got up to retrieve drinks for your table, Spencer followed, volunteering to do the same thing for his table. He eventually found you, casually leaning against the bar as you wait for the bartender to make the drinks, looking at your phone.

“Hi,” He says, after clearing his throat, trying to mentally chase the words that left him at the simple action of seeing you up close for the first time all night.