last year, spencer started developing headaches, bad ones, it started as a back of the eye pain, but when the pain started to increase, he decided to go to a geneticist, so you viewed the MRI scans of spencers brain when he started suffering from headaches.

your IQ is 180, and you have one PhD, and a doctorate degree, so you’re also a certified genius, you haven’t been able to meet since you have a stalker, a bad one, they’ve threatened you badly, you don’t know what spencer looks like and he doesn’t know what you look like, but now you and spencer are dating, you’ve both been dating 10 months online.

he has an IQ of 187, eidetic memory and reads 20,000 words per minute, he wants kids and he loves doctor who, he’s great at card counting and chess, he doesn’t understand social cues due to his autism, the girlfriends he’s had before left him because he rambles, or stutters, or is to ‘clingy’.

spencers job is obviously demanding, but every Sunday, he’ll call you from a different phone box each time to prevent your stalker finding out, and also to stop the stalker from harming spencer to get to you.

it was a regular sunday, spencer was on the phone to you, he was at a phone box on 5th and main, you was both laughing and chatting to each other about how hopefully you’ll meet one day.

spencer: “you know, you could search my name up on the FBI list and find what I look like, I mean, I’ve shaved since then but—“