Author's Note: Hey there! Some of you may or may not know me, but I am Kayson. Somewhat recently, I came up with an idea to make a year-long collection of one-shots about the adorable Spoby (and it was kind of, sort of, maybe inspired by LynnLayne18 and her playlist challenge). Following suit, this is some kind of playlist challenge meant to extend from Spobyversary 2013-Spobyversary 2014. I have selected 191 songs (as of now) to base one-shots off of, which I will be uploading throughout the next year. This is a huge process, but I would love to finish it.

This first one-shot/song combination is "Runaway" by Maroon 5. I think that before reading these one-shots, you guys should probably just listen to these songs, or at least look up the lyrics, especially if you don't know them. But as I think you guys will come to know, my taste in music is kind of all over the place. Like, there's some Britney in this collection (even though I'm not really a fan), there's some of The Civil Wars (who I am quite in love with), and I think there's even some Queen (my favorite, especially considering how cool Freddie Mercury was). And I tried to include her as much as possible (it was hard), but there are a few songs by Marina and the Diamonds, AKA my queen :)

Enjoy!


Day One: Runaway by Maroon 5

Sure, after three years of dating, they had fights.

But their fights were never like this.

Neither party could recall what they had said or screamed at each other. All they knew is that things weren't working for them; not like this.

And now, he tossed and turned frantically in bed, wishing that those things had been left unsaid; wishing that she was there.

He was scared—no, scared didn't even begin to describe it; petrified was more like it—that she was gone forever. Of course, she really hadn't taken anything, but he feared her things would be gone within the next week, taken when he wasn't home to stop her.

What was he supposed to do without her? She meant everything to him, and he honestly didn't know how to survive without her—without her touch, her kiss, everything.

He rolled over onto his side, glancing at the clock nervously. It was 4 AM already. He had been up for hours worrying, not only of the fate of their relationship, but about her, too. So now, here he was, breaking into a cold sweat over where she was, what she was doing, and whether or not he had left her broken hearted.

The mere thought of the last possibility made him feel sick beyond description.

He checked his phone nervously for the five-hundredth time that night. He was about to send another text, but figured that if she had gotten them, she was certainly ignoring them.

As he lay in bed, thinking their entire relationship over, he began to think about how horrible this whole situation was. Why did he have to be so hung up on her? Why did she have to make him feel the things…those feelings he never wanted to feel. In the heat of the moment, he hated her for it. It was the kind of thing he would tell her all about…that is, if she were here. Of course, he couldn't because of the simple fact that she wasn't here with him.

So for now, the only thing he could do was pray that they'd both come to their senses and that this nightmare would be over soon enough.


A month later, he hadn't gotten a single word from her. It saddened him, but he knew that he could never be mad at her. There were those things she did (and things she was doing now) that made him hate her, but anger was not something he was used to feeling around her.

In the time they had been separated, Spencer hadn't been back at all. He accepted that this was out of his control. What remained in his control was what he did with those things. All her things remained untouched. They were exactly how she, in her anal-retentive glory, would've liked them. He didn't touch them, fearing that maybe if he did, her essence would be gone.

He realized how creepy it would look to anyone else—normal people, who would suggest to get rid of her things, and psychotic people, who would possibly suggest setting it aflame as a final act of revenge—but he refused to part with her things. Her clothes were where they normally were: hanging beside his.

Subconsciously, he realized that it was really creepy, but he couldn't do anything about it. Ever since she had left, his friends had noticed that he was a nervous wreck. He was an absolute ball of nerves. She had left him broken.

At the end of the day, he had reverted back to their typical nighttime routine, with him lying in bed, contemplating the events which led to their demise. At the end, he always had the same question.

Has she moved on with her life? Or is she just barely getting by, like me?

Though he always sort of hoped that it was the latter, he feared it was the first possibility, which scared him to his core.


A year later, he had (somehow) managed to carry on without her presence, but some days were better than others.

One day he was feeling particularly bad about not just the event, but life in general, the oddest thing happened.

Well, it's not quite certain whether one could describe it as "odd" rather than "fateful".

So, on that fateful spring day, he experienced what he thought to be either the best or the worst thing ever.

As per usual, he had arranged to meet Emily at the Brew for an afternoon cup of coffee. He was waiting quietly, leafing through the pages of The Catcher in the Rye, waiting for her to show up.

He did not expect to see a different brunette show up.

He held his breath when he saw none other than Spencer across the quaint, small coffee shop which she used to make her home-away-from-home. She looked so different from what he remembered. She looked more confident. Her hair was longer and not quite as curly, but wavy. But her smile remained the same.

He made it his mission to get to know this version of Spencer, no matter what she had to say about it.


A month later, they had resorted to sarcastic but friendly jokes which made up their short friendship before they were officially a couple. Things were looking better. He felt like there might actually be hope.

They were innocently hanging out with some mutual friends. Spencer hung around his apartment a little longer, not really wanting to leave, and using the excuse of helping him clean to stay a while longer.

She noticed how he had changed. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, but then again, she was sure she had changed, too.

In hindsight, she couldn't even recall what it was that drove her away. She believed it was fear of commitment.

She recalled being in his apartment, well, their apartment. She remembered what it was that made her so scared. She had found a black velvet box, and inside was a diamond engagement ring.

Suddenly, Spencer was a child again, stuck in a loveless family.

Of course, you must be wondering how something that symbolized such promise could have such bad connotations.

She remembered with horror finding an engagement ring when she was seven years old. However, at the time, she hadn't realized how horrible of a discovery it was.

She remembered snooping through her father's study and finding it tucked away in his top right-hand drawer. It was with a note, which she didn't read, but would one day find out was a letter of promise to a woman who mothered one of his children. And that woman was not her mother.

"I need to talk to you," she uttered. "I need to tell you about why I left," she mustered finally.

He was more than willing to hear this. He waited expectantly for more, but she was quite reluctant.

"I found the ring," she confessed.

His heart dropped, wondering if she was really so unhappy about the prospect of spending the rest of their lives together. He recalled how he had the ring buried somewhere in her belongings, like maybe if she came back for her things, she'd take it by accident and realize the error of her ways.

"You didn't have to leave if you didn't want to get married," he answered finally, very quietly.

She nodded. "I know. But I got scared. So I ran away. Kind of like I always do."

It hurt him to see her face, so twisted with pain. "What were you scared of?"

"I was scared that maybe if I went through with it, we would end up like my parents," she revealed.

"Oh, Spencer—"

"I'm sorry! But I didn't know what to do. I was so nervous. But I really should've known better. I should've known that you would never do something like that to me. I have faith in you—had faith—but…I was worried that I was wrong."

He nodded. He didn't know what to say to her. He wanted to prove her wrong, but…she had probably moved on already, and it wasn't fair. None of it was fair.

He felt a hand grasp his, seeing Spencer's hand reach out for his. She offered him a smile. "I shouldn't have left. Especially not in the way that I did. I'm sorry."


Shivers shot all up and down her spine during their kiss.

"Toby…I love you, and I was so stupid for leaving you," she murmured in between kisses.

He nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't chase after you like I should've."

His hand rested on the small of her back as he pulled her closer for a kiss. She felt so familiar in his arms, and he loved that.

Things felt natural, like the entire year they had a hiatus never existed.

"Please, just promise me something," he began.

"Anything," she promised.

"Please just tell me that when the time comes, you're not going to run away again. Because I can't do this a second time," he said.

She nodded. "I promise."


I hope it wasn't too terribly sappy and you got at least some of the references in this one-shot :) -Kayson