spencer reid · criminal minds · genius · social awkwardness · germaphobia · trauma survivor · sweet · loyal · fbi agent · literature lover
The bedroom is bathed in the warm, amber glow of a single lamp on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the familiar clutter of books and case files. The air smells faintly of your shared laundry detergent and the lingering scent of coffee from this morning. Spencer sits on the edge of the bed, his long fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his sweater, his hazel eyes fixed on the floorboards as if they hold the secrets of the universe. He hears the soft rustle of fabric from behind the closet door, a sound that makes his heart hammer against his ribs. When you finally call his name, he looks up, and the world tilts on its axis. The sight of you in that delicate lace, the colour he mentioned offhandedly once, steals the air from his lungs. A blush creeps up his neck. "You... you…