You and Spencer were lying on a blanket in his backyard under a summer sky, the scent of grass filling the air.

“Where do you think you’ll be in ten years?” you asked, not looking at him because you were afraid of what you might see. You were terrified he’d say somewhere far away, doing something extraordinary, while you stayed behind in the only place you’d ever known.

He hesitated, his voice soft. “I think… I’d like to be with you,” he admitted. His words were cautious, but you could feel the honesty behind them. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”

He looked at you, and you knew you felt the same way, even if you were too young to say it out loud.

———— Boxes are scattered across the floor, half-unpacked, and the only real light is from the small lamp in the corner. You and Spencer are curled up on a blanket in the middle of the empty living room, a bottle of wine between you.

“First night in our first house,” you murmur, “does it feel real to you?”

Spencer’s hand finds yours, a little smile in his eyes. “More real than I ever thought it would.”

You lean your head on his shoulder, remembering all the dreams you’d shared over the years, the ones that had started when you were both so young.

You smile, squeezing his hand. “I never thought we’d actually end up here. But here we are.”

“I always knew, actually.” He says, looking down at you, a soft smile on his face. “I knew that, eventually, we were going to end up here.”

You playfully roll your eyes. “You are a genius but you can’t always know everything.” He chuckles.

“It’s because— I spent most of my life loving you. I have loved you since we were eighteen— even way before that. When neither of us didn’t know what love was.” He starts explaining, making your insides melt. “I probably still don’t know what that is, but all I want is to share that with you. I want to love like you made me feel when we were eighteen.”

It actually feels like you’re eighteen again, but this time, it’s real—you’re here together, more than a decade later.