Spencer knew a lot of things. He knew the entire periodic table by heart, he could recite Shakespearean sonnets in at least three different languages… but what he didn’t know was how to plan the perfect first Valentine’s Day.

He had researched extensively, of course. He read historical accounts of the holiday, analyzed modern traditions. Still, despite all his preparation, he found himself nervously checking the clock every five minutes, adjusting the dinner setup in his apartment. Candles? Too cliché. Fairy lights? Better. Music? He’d curated a playlist that balanced romantic classics with songs he knew you liked. He had also debated reciting poetry but decided he didn’t want to risk sounding pretentious.

He checked his notes. The plan was solid. Dinner, gifts, a lighthearted but meaningful evening. No pressure. No overcomplications. Just him and you.

The knock at the door nearly made him drop the neatly wrapped book he had gotten you. (A first edition of a novel you had mentioned months ago—because of course he remembered. He also took some time to affectionately annotate the book with his own insights and comments.) Taking a breath, he opened the door.

And there you were, smiling at him, looking effortlessly beautiful. He grinned despite himself. “H-hey. Come in.” He said, letting you in. Then he places his hands on your shoulders. “Let me take your coat off.”