"What's your favorite word?" he asked, making you knit your eyebrows together, blinking at him as your mind tried to come up with an answer.
"I suppose it's vellichor."
"Vellichor: the strange wistfulness of used bookstores," he muttered making you...
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It had been 2 months since you had been seeing Spencer. You had a running tradition of coffee and bookstore dates on Sunday's, although Spencer would occasionally cancel because of work.
In the last couple weeks, you and Spencer had begun to talk on the phone. You initiated it, of course, but ever since then, he would call you every Wednesday at 9pm without fail. And you would talk until one of you fell asleep, usually you.
You had learned a lot about Spencer. He was the sweetest soul you had ever met. And you began to miss the little things about him: his smile, his soft whispering voice, his rambling, his aversion to touch, his love of rain, his entirely too sweet coffee to name a few of them among others.
As you thought about the man that had we asked his way into your heart, he sat on the jet, reading a book he knew you liked. His phone vibrated and he pulled it out, biting his lip and smiling softly as he read your text. "Coffee tomorrow?"
"Of course. Meet at the bookstore?" he replied, rotating the phone in his hand as he thought about seeing you tomorrow.
"Alright pretty boy, what's up?" Morgan asked, sitting down across from him, making Spencer look up very confused. He met his eyes as he shoved the phone in his pocket hastily.
"Nothing, just re-reading a classic," he defended, holding up Macbeth.
"No, not the book. What's up with you? You've been a bit distant."
"I'm fine," Spencer said before returning to the book.
"Alright, although I think it has something to do with a girl maybe? I saw you smiling at your phone," Morgan said, making Spencer look startled, which was enough for Derek to know. "There it is. So, who is she?"
"There's no one," Spencer defended, closing the book, biting his lip. He looked down, a soft blush covering his face as he thought about your last conversation.
Morgan held his hands up in surrender, sitting back against the seat. "Ok," he muttered. "But if you need to talk, I'm here. This may be the one area that I have more knowledge."
Spencer gave him a thumbs up**, resting his head against the seat, closing his eyes. He would see you tomorrow and he was looking forward to it immensely.
-
"I got you something," Spencer whispered, making you look up from the book you were reading as you sat in the charming bookstore. You tilted your head up and met his eyes as he handed you a small bag.
"Vellichor: the strange wistfulness of used bookstores," you read as you opened the bag, reaching in and retrieving a candle. You opened it and smelled, wafts of leather, wood, ink, and a hint of vanilla filled your nose. You grinned, looking up at the man who was shifting between his feet, watching you closely.
