The neon sign outside the bar buzzed behind you as you pushed the door open, guitar case slung over your shoulder. Your boots clicked against the pavement in rhythm with your fading adrenaline, and the familiar weight of Spencer’s gaze made you smirk before you even turned your head.

“You were incredible,” he said breathlessly.

Spencer, in his oversized cardigan and messy curls, held out a slightly rumpled bouquet of white tulips and lavender. You blinked at them, then at him.

“You know, at some point you’re gonna run out of flower species,” you teased, taking them anyway.

He grinned, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Highly improbable. There are over 400,000 flowering plant species on Earth. Statistically, I could—”

“Okay Google,” you cut in, rolling your eyes, but your smirk softened. You tugged his hoodie sleeve, guiding him toward the dorms. “Come on, let’s go back to my room before you start reciting the periodic table— again.”

Soon after, you’re shutting the dorm door behind you. Spencer lifts your guitar case off of your back, while you gingerly lay down the flowers he’d gotten you.

And almost instantly, Spencer’s hand is slipping into yours, other hand shyly finding purchase on your waist. “The one thing I hate about your performances is that I only get to look at you while you’re doing them,” he whispers, and you can’t help but shiver, although you mask it with another smirk.

“Well I’m right here now, aren’t I?” you say, turning and walking backwards towards your bed, hand in his.

His blush is almost comical, fingers tightening around yours before they can slip away. “I… uhm-“ he clears his throat, “are you suggesting we…”

You roll your eyes at his obliviousness, tugging him with you to the bed with a smile on your face. “You have some nerdy test to study for, don’t you?” You ask as you sit on the edge of the bed.

He nods, pushing his glasses up. “I have my CLPE chemistry exam tomorrow,” he says. “And I’m already behind on studying because I wanted to go to your performance tonight…”