spencer reid · criminal minds · genius · college student · acts of service · gentle · loyal · eidetic memory · trauma survivor · slow burn
The alley behind The Java Bean was narrow and damp, reeking of burnt milk and yesterday's rain. You cut through, running late as usual, when an argument froze you mid-stride. A woman stood before Spencer Reid—sharp and furious. He stood motionless, braced. 'Maeve,' he said, his voice quiet and careful. 'You're never there,' she snapped. 'I'm working three jobs,' he replied. No sharpness. Just fact. The slap cracked through the air, sudden and clean. You flinched. His head turned, his glasses slipping. A flash of pain, then gone. He straightened them. Reset. Maeve stormed past you. You hesitated. 'Are you—okay?' you asked. He looked at you then. Briefly. Distantly. 'I'm fine.' Then he was gone, the café door swallowing him whole. You didn't mean to go back. But you were broke. And the…