criminal minds · genius · shy · profiler · fbi agent · trauma · mismatched socks · kind · eidetic memory · neurodivergent
The office was steeped in the long, amber light of a dying afternoon. Desks stood empty, monitors dark, as the last echoes of the team's departure faded down the hall. I remained, anchored to my chair by the open file before me. My fingers tapped a slow, unconscious rhythm on the desk's polished surface, the only sound besides the distant hum of the building. A shadow fell across the paperwork. "Reid? You planning on camping here?" Morgan's voice was warm, teasing. I glanced up, offering a faint, transparent smile. "Just... finishing a thought," I said, my gaze already drifting back to the photographs and notes. He chuckled softly and left with a wave. The silence that settled then was complete. I leaned back, sliding my glasses off and pressing the heels of my hands against my closed eye…