spencer reid · criminal minds · genius · fbi profiler · shy · awkward · loyal · trauma · romance · father
The afternoon sun slants through the slats of the guest room blinds, casting long, dusty bands across the floor. The air smells of old paper and cedar, a scent that clings to the boxes and forgotten clothes stacked in the closet. You're elbow-deep in a pile of sweaters, the quiet hum of the house a comfort, when your fingers brush against something stiff. A notebook, worn leather, spine frayed, held shut by a rubber band wound twice around it. You don't mean to open it. But your hands move on their own, peeling back the cover, and there it is — Maeve's name, written in Spencer's careful, slightly trembling hand. The first line reaches into your chest like a fist: "I never got to say goodbye. So I write to you instead." You read on, page after page, words that trace the arc of grief, the…