Author's Note: I kind of got off topic to the point where I forgot what my point was :)

Day One-Hundred Forty-Six: Daydreamer by Adele

She rested her chin on her knees and watched him.

His blue eyes were sparkling as he looked out to the open sea. He was daydreaming, as usual. About what, she was never totally sure. He liked to tell stories, so that was probably what he was thinking about. He liked to tell them to her when they were lying together in bed. She'd be wrapped in his arms and blankets while he told her a story he'd thought up a few days ago. There was one story in particular that he liked to tell her as he ran his hands up her back. It was a story about a girl who released all the evils into the world, even though her husband and all the gods told her not to. When her husband realized that all the evils—including death, disease, and sadness—had escaped the box and his wife was to blame, they searched all throughout the world to try and recollect the evils. Even though they couldn't, they'd discovered that all the evils made the world a better, more interesting place. They saw all the bad in people, but they also saw the goodness in their hearts.

"I'm pretty sure that's not really how it goes and that story is called Pandora's Box," she used to say to him in an as-a-matter-of-fact way.

"Pandora never tried to right her wrongs. And the woman's name was…" He'd trail off as his hands moved down her arms to play with her hands. "…Sophia."

He'd go on to tell her all about what happened with Sophia and her husband. She never got to know the husband's name, but he insisted that it was insignificant and it just started with a T and that was all she really needed to know.

She sat there on the beach and stared at Toby. If only more people saw this side of him.

She realized that maybe they were chasing him and trying to change him. But he couldn't be changed. Still, she caught him and loved him the way he was.

"You should write your stories down. You could change someone's life," she advised.

He sighed. "The stories aren't meant to change anyone's life, Spencer. They're just…what I make up for fun. They're meant to be heard and enjoyed. They're…nothing serious, really."

"But what are you waiting for? Are you just going to sit here and think of stories for the rest of your life?" she inquired, harsher than she intended to have it come out.

He was silent before he shrugged. "I don't know. I'm waiting for…something good to happen to me for once," he answered meekly.

"Well…tell me when you figured everything out," she said before getting up and walking away.

"Toby?" She could scarcely make out his figure, but when she caught sight of his dazzling blue eyes, she realized that it was him.

He looked up at her. His expression was somber and sad at first, but his face lit up as soon as he saw her.

"What are you doing here?" she inquired as she crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

He shrugged. "I was waiting for a surprise. A good one. And she's standing in front of me."

"I'd hardly call it a surprise considering you're sitting on my front porch. How long have you been here?"

"Maybe…an hour?" It looked more like a few. But he was there to stay and she could tell. Another thing about him was that he was stubborn. When his mind was made up, it was made up.

"Well—"

Before she could say anything more, there was a clap of thunder. She sighed. "Great."

She began to search her bag for her house key, but realized that she didn't have it. "Even better," she huffed.

A few moments later, it began to pour. Spencer sat down on the porch with him. "So I guess you wanted to talk? Talk."

"I thought a lot about what you said—"

Suddenly, Spencer remembered that there was a spare key taped to the roof of the mailbox. "Wait, hold that thought."

She ran out in the pouring rain to retrieve the key and quickly ran back. She still got soaked, regardless.

They ran into her house and Spencer was shivering.

"Here."

Before she could protest, he had draped his jacket around her shoulders. To be honest, she was too cold to argue.

"You shouldn't be here," she decided. "But continue with what you were saying."

He nodded. His face was unchanging. "Well, I thought about what you had said and I decided that I don't want to do anything about the stories. They're too special to me, even though I know most of them sound the same for you—"

"But, Toby, you have such a great imagination. You could do so much better than this tiny town."

"But I'm different in this town!" he exclaimed. "I'm different. I know there's nobody else like me. And I like it like that. But if I go someplace like L.A. or New York or even Philadelphia…a unique person there is just another person. I just like being known as that weird guy you can't describe who can come up with stories on the spot," he explained.

She sighed before nodding.

"Are you happy for me?"

She shrugged. "I mean…I'd love you just the same, but…I understand that." And she really did. She also kind of owed it to him. He saw her through everything before passing judgment. "But is that all you want to do your whole life? What about a job? A vocation? Or another avocation?"

"I don't know. I want to do something…creative, I guess."

She nodded. "You are a dreamer," she commented, adding in a small smile at the end. He was the biggest dreamer she knew.

MilaMizz: Well, I thought it's nice to have stuff that doesn't always end in a kiss. It gives a different perspective on everything. I have a violin, too. It's called rosin. I've been playing for 10 years (a reed is something you use in a woodwind like a clarinet/bassoon/oboe/saxophone to make it make a sound and it's a thin piece of wood). Rosin is tree sap. It probably still works, but if you haven't played it in like a really long time the strings would probably need to be changed and it'll probably throw a fit when you try to tune it (and an out of tune violin is the most annoying sound ever). But that's good and if that's how you're happy, then that's fine. Like Toby said, "We wouldn't be us if we didn't believe in second chances, but it's okay to close the door on someone if they're toxic." The same goes for toxic opinions. I know (partially) what you're going through (and by that, I mean, I've had similar experiences). Thanks! Glad you liked it!

Sarah:AU is good, especially when the canon is (pardonnez mon Français) shite. Like, really...I can't with the PLL writers recently. It's alright. I sometimes creep on tumblr when it comes to my favourite blogs (i.e., hashtagpll, tobys-durag [cue the awkward moment when I found out Elena used to read my stories and I haven't heard from her since like the beginning of EHC, so I'll assume she doesn't care anymore], craylittleliars, diamondsanddelrey, etc...).

AL3110:Yeah, I have to record you saying it (because even though I'm reading it, I'm reading it in American and not Danish, since there are totally different sounds...though I'm actually probably reading it in Spanish since I have the inclination to read everything in Spanish when I don't recognize a word). I actually liked it. Personally, I liked it. I think? I personally don't know what the butterfly effect is, so...yup. This is awkward. I wasn't wearing a headband. I had a big bow in my hair, but I wasn't wearing a headband.

It's late, walk me home, put your hand in mine because I'm really lonely. JK, tonight I have two cats. Unfortunately, they are not Pandora and Mowgli (sob) but they're my cousins' cats, Jeremy Buttons and Lindy. Lindy just wants to snuggle all the time (and she has a foot fetish, but we're not mentioning that) and Jeremy is more like...a black cat. Which is fitting, since he's black. I picture him like Toby, circa S1 because he's all reclusive but he just wants somebody to love.

I promise you guys that I'm not high or drunk or anything (jk, I'm high...on life, like I always am). I'm just a weirdo.

The next one-shot will be Back to Black by Amy Winehouse. I will try to update this story and my other one tomorrow on PLL day, but no promises. -Kayson