Spencer (after the party, closed.) TW: probably talking about violence

[callmeemily]

The smell of soup pretty much fills the house. It's a pattern that Raleigh doesn't even realise is establishing itself. Spencer withdraws, and Raleigh makes him soup. Sometimes he eats it, sometimes he doesn't, but she makes it, and it's a little different than last time. She doesn't leave it on the porch. Instead, she knocks on the door wherever he is, and usually tells him what kind it is, and sometimes she asks him if he wants company.

That's what happens right now, she knocks on the doorframe of his room, because he's sitting on the bed reading, and she's got two bowls of soup. "I made lunch," there's a smile, and worry in her eyes that's been there ever since this started the day before yesterday. "Chicken noodle. Feel like company?"

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[doublethepain]

He's only left the bedroom once so far today and that had been to grab a bagel from the kitchen before returning to the comfort of the TempurPedic and settling back into the sheets for some reading. He's working his way through Caden Carter's books, figuring it appropriate considering the author is Siren Cove's newest resident, and he's admittedly engrossed by the well-paced plot and snappy dialogue. He's always been an avid fan of the classics but there are a few exceptions that he's always have to read and re-read--he thinks Caden's books might be added to the list.

More than just wanting to catch up on his reading, though, is the fact that he isn't quite up for facing the day after what had happened at Coop's party--and after that. Collecting Joel from the police station hadn't been pleasant, nor had having to see what Eli had done to his boyfriend's face; knowing how Joel had retaliated hadn't necessarily helped, either, though Spencer knows that he would have done the exact same thing, and on top of all this, he hasn't had a proper conversation with Raleigh since they'd gotten back to Siren Cove.

He knows about the letter. Of course he does, he wouldn't have hidden such a thing from Joel, after all, so it stands to reason that Joel wouldn't keep it hidden from him. He can understand why she'd written it--at his core, he understands it--but that doesn't mean he feels comfortable with it or remotely content with the idea of it. Hearing that she'd suspected she was going to die and hadn't said a word while he'd tried to help her with her wound had felt like somebody had taken a knife to his chest and there's still a tightness that he can't quite rid of, even with the distraction of the novel in his hands.

He's worried. He's worried about everyone, about everything, about whether Raleigh's okay, really okay, about what Eli might do with the revelation that Joel's a witch--a secret his boyfriend has worked so long and so hard to keep under wraps. Joel had let his secret loose, had gone to that darker place for Spencer, and the guilt of that weighs heavily on his mind.

When she knocks on the door, he forces a small smile on his face before he looks up, already knowing what she's here for because he's been half-reveling in the smell of the soup wafting up from downstairs for the past ten minutes. "Your company or the soup's?" His smile widens just a bit, though it's more genuine this time. "I'll take both, if you're offering."