Spencer Ried//Maroon Dots
Super short, only 860 words 😅 sorry lmao. I’ve been thinking about this dork lately🤷🏻♀️.
"Oh, Hey Y/N." Spencer cut off Emily's nonstop rambling about her new cat Sergio when Y/N walked by.
She smiled, sending him a small wave while Emily went on. Spencer left the small circle of his colleagues to follow her vanilla-scented perfume to her cubicle across from his.
"Hey Doc, what's up." She asked, putting her bag down and sipping the coffee in her to-go cup.
"Oh, nothing. I uh, I just. I like your shirt. It looks soft." He gave her a weak smile, not able to blurt out what he wanted to say.
It would be something along the lines, "You look soft, you smell nice, and I wish you'd wear your hair down more, and I really love you.
"Oh thank you, I just got it!" She set the cup down and held the bottom of her crewneck out towards him. "You gotta feel it; it's amazing."
Spencer blushed when his fingers skimmed yours, rubbing the maroon fabric between them. It was warm from being between you and your parka. He loved the color on you.
"Hey, look, we match!" She had finally taken a moment to tear her eyes away from his messy hair and blushed cheeks to examine his outfit, which was pulled together with a maroon sweater vest.
His cheeks couldn't get any hotter, catching Derek watching him from the circle around Emily. He cleared his throat, looking back down at the small woman in front of him.
"We're like a dynamic duo." She laughed, her fingertips briefly touch the scratchy fabric of his vest.
Like usual, Spencer's tongue was caught in his throat, not knowing how to continue the conversation but not wanting to end it either.
"Where'd you get that vest anyway, it looks older than me?" Derek chimed in, walking past them.
"Says the guy who wears the same three t-shirts every day." Y/N didn't miss a beat in critiquing her other teammate's fashion sense.
Derek put his hand over his heart, his face contorted in fake pain. "Why do you gotta hurt me like that, babe?"
Spencer's eyebrows furrowed at the nickname.
"I like the vest that's my favorite color too. It looks good on you, Spencer." She smoothed it out on his chest for just a second, looking back to his eyes. It was his turn to admire the blush on her cheeks, forgetting about his own.
"Thank you." He coughed out.
It had been a few weeks since then, and you could tell the drastic change in Spencer's clothing choices. He wore at least one piece of maroon clothing a day.
Whether it was two different shaded socks, a new tie he had bought specifically for the color, and Y/N's absolute favorite, a crisp white button-up covered with tiny maroon polka-dots.
He figured she had only complimented him because of Dereks' teasing comments until the day he showed up wearing that godforsaken button.
Y/N spent the entire flight from Virginia to Los Angeles staring at him. She knew no matter how many compliments, praises, acknowledgments she threw at him; he never thought of them as anything more than reciprocating his own kindness to her.
Not until she pulled him aside on the jet during the flight home.
"Hey, Doc." She smiled, leaning against the counter while he stirred the small amount of coffee into his cup of sugar. He blushed while she fiddled with the small pendant of her necklace. It was the one Spencer had gotten her during the 'Secret Santa' gift exchange the year before. It was a small, rosegold cat.
"Hey," he whispered back, sipping his drink to distract himself.
"You know," She cleared her throat, closing her eyes for a brief moment. "I don't think Morgan could pull off this shirt even half as good as you do." She smiled, only for a split second before Spencer started coughing on the sip he had just taken.
"Oh god, are you ok?" She took the cup from his hands, patting his back.
"Yeah, just," Spencer tried to compose himself. "down the wrong pipe." Trying to play off his sudden burst of surprise.
"Of course." Y/N lips spread into a small sweet smile, a silent promise to not further his embarrassment.
"I do mean it, Spencer, you could wear anything and put that man to shame," She paused, barely touching her fingertips to smooth out the wrinkles on his shirt. She avoided eye contact, waiting for the soft rejection to come.
"I've complimented you every time I see you, and you think it's because of Derek's comments, but I'm just really in love with you."
She finished putting her hand back to her side; she still hasn't moved her eyes from the small dots littering just under his adam's apple on the collar of his shirt.
Spencer was too shell shocked to even respond. Thoughts of every love story he's ever read running laps in his mind, searching for the right answer, surely he's read one that would suffice. His mouth felt too dry to speak, instead, he put her hand back where she had been smoothing his shirt out.
"I uh, I feel that too."