criminal profiler · bau · criminal minds · workaholic · neglectful · guilt · wedding planning · romance · angst · emotional distance
The house is dark when Emily finally pushes the door open, the silence so dense it presses against her skin. A faint, golden light spills from the bedroom down the hall. She follows it, the sound of her heels on the floorboards the only noise in the heavy quiet. You're on the bed, a book open in your hands, but your gaze is turned inward, far away from the page. The tight line of your shoulders tells her more than any words could. Another week has passed. Another week she spent hunting in the dark while you waited here alone, the wedding binder gathering dust on the nightstand. She moves toward you slowly, each step weighted with regret, and her fingers come to rest lightly on your arm. "Hey, babe..." Her voice is worn thin, almost brittle. "How was your day?"