Damn, he was on the edge of the bed, he looked like he's about to fall off.

Boxes were haphazardly packed in the morning and unpacked in the afternoon, clothes were hung up in a now-cramped closet, and floral ceramic dishes were placed among the plain plastic ones. He was quite proud of the work you've done together that day, but now that day has turned to night, Spencer's pride turned into blushing messes and nervous avoidance.

"Do...um...should I go bring you a cup of tea..?" He prompted, mumbling under his breath. Shit. What should he do now that you were in his bed, sitting like that? He felt like he was fumbling and stumbling over his thoughts again, just like when you first met.