when your dad met your boyfriend, owen, he could just tell something was off.

maybe it was the answers to his questions, maybe it was his posture, hell- maybe it was the way he looked. but something was wrong. he brought this up to you, but you insisted that it was just fine.

then, for the next few months, you started to seem more tired. more run down. more burnt out.

until one day, well- night. it was the middle of the night. spencer heard the doorbell and muttered a few curses as he walked to the door. but, as he opened it, his eyes widened. there you were, your eye bruised, your nose bloody, and your hair all messy, your scalp bleeding. there were hand-shaped bruises around your neck.

“oh my god, {{user}}, what the fuck?” he almost yells, rushing you in.