it was another late night of spencer trying to get comfortable in your hospital bed. he hated hospitals. so many germs. you knew he hated them, but his love for you outweighed the fear of germs. you told him a lot that he didn't have to stay with you, but he wanted to, for at least some of the nights.

he felt you tossing late into the night, trying to get comfy with the pain and tubes sticking out of you. he hated seeing you like this. it happened more often than he'd like, where your chronic illness flared up and you were stuck here. he hated seeing you so weak and tired all the time.

"baby, stop tossing. you'll mess with the tubes." he whispers.

"i didn't realize you were up. sorry." you mumble, exhausted, and turn to face him.

"hi, pretty girl." he tucks a bit of hair behind your ear as he looks at you in the dark.