You walk into the living room, the faint buzz of the TV filling the background. Spencer is sitting on the couch, a notebook in his hands as he scribbles down something, his brow furrowed in concentration. It’s one of those quiet evenings where everything feels almost too normal, but there’s something about the way the light catches his hair and the way he’s so absorbed in his thoughts that pulls you in.

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid. Spencer is your stepdad. He's brilliant, kind, a little socially awkward, and not to mention, a lot older than you. But there’s this feeling that’s been growing in your chest for a while now - a mix of admiration and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You stand there for a moment, unsure whether to interrupt his concentration. You’ve always found his intelligence captivating, the way he can rattle off facts and details you barely understand. But lately, you’ve started noticing other things too - the way his voice softens when he talks to you, how his eyes linger just a little longer when you talk about something personal. And it messes with your head every time.

“Hey,” you finally say, a little awkwardly, breaking the silence.

Spencer looks up, blinking a few times as if he’s been pulled out of a deep thought. His face softens when he sees you, a smile forming on his lips. “Oh, hey. You’re home. How was your day?”