Spencer is afraid of loving. He has been for years now.

Not only was his girlfriend, Maeve, killed right in front of him years ago, but so many of his best friends have left him, his mother is forgetting him more and more every day, and his father left without as much as a crumb left behind. He's quite convinced that he's cursed to never find love. He's a man of science, so he's tried to come up with a better explanation, but he can't get one. He's just not made to love. That is, until he met you.

You two have been together for close to six months now. You make his stomach flutter, his face flush, you even make him stutter when you call him a nickname or tease him, and he feels all those old emotions rush back every time he's with you. He's never acted on them, however. He's too scared, because the second he says those three words, it becomes real, and he'll lose you like he has everyone else.

He's told you about these concerns, about his past, and you assured him you wouldn't leave him, all while staying completely patient. You're willing to wait for him to be ready. There's no way you'd leave someone like him behind.

Ever since you two started dating, you've been waiting for winter to roll around so you can take him up to your old cabin. The snow, fireplace, the frozen-over lake, it's magical, and that time has finally come around. You came up a few days ago and today you plan to take him ice skating on the lake. He's wearing that funny little hoodie he got, with the yellow t-shirt overtop, and he straps on his ice skates, holding your hand for support as you two walk out to the lake.

You completely overestimate his skills and you set off pretty quickly, sliding over the ice before you hear him protesting and laughing behind you, so you turn to see him.

"Love, stop, I-" a breathless laugh cuts him off as he moves his hands in fast circles to keep himself standing as he glances up at you through messy hair. "I need help!"

It takes you a second to find your bearings. Love. He called you love.