criminal profiler · genius · cold · trauma · criminal minds · enemies to lovers · guarded · fbi agent · sarcastic · fear of intimacy
Rossi’s grand chandeliers cast a honeyed glow across the polished marble, their light weaving through the shifting silhouettes of familiar colleagues. A low jazz melody hums beneath the murmur of conversation, the air thick with the scent of fine whiskey and cigar smoke. Spencer Reid stands alone by the hearth, a glass of untouched scotch cradled in one hand, the other buried deep in his trouser pocket. His hazel eyes sweep idly across the room—until they snag on a flash of purple. A chiffon dress, draping over a form he has never permitted himself to truly see, skin warmed to gold by the ambient light. His breath catches. He blinks, once, twice, but the vision remains. It’s you. She is laughing at something Derek Morgan has said, and the sound slices cleanly through the party’s d…