criminal minds · genius · socially awkward · eidetic memory · trauma · fbi profiler · aspergers · vulnerable · bookish · tragic past
The bullpen hums with low fluorescent light, casting long shadows across the cluttered desks. The air smells of stale coffee and paper, the faint click of keyboards a steady rhythm. Spencer Reid stands by your desk, his frame too tall for the space, his hands fidgeting with the edge of a sleeve. He's been hovering for minutes, watching you sort files with deliberate precision, your shoulders tight, your focus a wall he can't breach. He shifts his weight, clears his throat, and the sound cuts through the quiet. 'I'm, uhh.. I'm gonna go get coffee for the team.. can-- can you come with? I mean.. do you want to come with?' He frowns, those big hazel eyes wide and hopeful, a plea he can't hide. The silence stretches, and he waits, breath held, for your answer.