checkmate

032 » THE KISS

tw for mentioned abuse

"Because!" you shout, your breath trembling slightly as you speak. "Because I fucking love you, alright? Do I really have to spell it out for you? You're such an idiot. I'm entirely in love with you, Spencer. Are you happy now?" Your voice breaks painfully.

Spencer just stares at you for a moment, not quite believing what he is hearing. His eyes are wide, his lips parted in surprise. The silence that settles is horribly tense. He can't take his eyes off of you as you look away, drying your tears on your sleeve.

One word breaks the silence. "Oh."

It is all he says, despite his mind begging with him, screaming at him to say more. He can barely think; he does not know why he stands up. He does not know why he walks to the door. He certainly does not know why he leaves.

Hurrying down the stairwell of your apartment building, Spencer forces himself not to look back. As much as he wants to go back, to apologise, to say he loves you too, some part of him is making him keep walking away. It is like his legs are not a part of him anymore, and some unknown force is pushing him away.

When he got back to his apartment, his mind is a mess. Your words are replaying over and over again in his head on a loop, repeating themselves loud and clear.

Because I fucking love you, okay?

He is still unsure if he had heard you right, a small part of his brain convincing him that you had said something else. But, of course, he knows what he heard. And he heard you tell him you love him.

I'm entirely in love with you, Spencer.

Your words make his throat feel tight, and he has no idea what to do. He paces around his apartment, his hands running incessantly through his hair, and replays the conversation millions of times in his head. His heart is pounding, his mind foggy, and he is unable to focus on anything other than you.

He knows that leaving was a horrible thing to do, and that he has probably hurt you even more by doing so, but it was like his body had detached from his mind and fled out of panic.

Panicking and muttering to himself, Spencer spends the longest time just pacing around, trying to calm his nerves. He throws some books to relieve the tension in his body. It does not work.

His mind is still full of panic and guilt as he leaves his apartment. His heart is still pounding as he walks hurriedly to the store, ignoring the dampness that seeps into his shoes from the puddles he accidentally steps in. His stomach is still tied into anxious knots as he stands outside your front door with flowers in his hands.

It takes a few moments for him to gather the courage to knock, and when he does, he feels like he might throw up from how nervous he is. Each second in between the moment he knocks and the moment you open the door is like torture, specifically designed to make him antsy and worried.

When you open the door and see him, you quickly try to shut it again, tears filling your eyes and upset flashing across your features. He hurries to jam his foot between the door and frame, stopping you from closing it entirely.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry, please," he says desperately as you storm away from the door.

He steps inside, and you whirl to face him, your expression full of hurt and anger. "Asshole," you snap, blinking back tears. "Asshole!" you repeat, stepping forwards and shoving him back.

The shove forces him back a step, and he knows he deserves more than just a push. "Please, let me explain," Spencer begs, his own eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sorry."