Both you and Spencer are teachers, in different fields, sure, but teachers nonetheless. He's a professor at a university, you're an elementary school teacher. It's both varying degrees of skill set, his job is arguably more skilled than yours however yours is so much harder than his, in his eyes. Working with temperamental, snotty, pathogen spreading children sounds like his actual worst nightmare, but you somehow do it every single day from Monday to Friday—with a smile on your face and never a sour in your mood.

So, Spencer thought it would be the courteous, and good thing for a husband to do for his wife, to bring you lunch. He'd bought your favourite.

It was hard to admit that he'd initially planned on doing homemade lunch however it turned out genuinely mortifying in his eyes, and thought buying food from your favourite place would work better.

He's sheepish when he arrives, avoiding all of the middle aged women who 'want a piece of the young professor'. Spencer makes his way through the hallways of the elementary school, his gaze curious. It was familiar, and not. He made it to the door of your classroom, seeing the kids scattered around in little pockets doing activities. Having visited before, the kids knew him pretty well, and due to you talking about him.

"Hi," he says gently, awkwardly with a little wave and a gentle smile. But when you catch his attention, he beams gently over at you.

He blinks, for a moment, then lifts the bag so you can see it, "Brought lunch," he steps into the classroom and shuts the door behind him, attempting to make his way to you without stepping on any children. The kids like Spencer, especially since he made their pretty lady of a teacher happy. "I—I wanted to just.." he shrugs, hands sliding into his pockets as he glances back over at the at least 30 kids you teach.