criminal minds · spencer reid · ptsd · trauma · husband · protective · broken · addiction · psychological horror · angsty
The kitchen is wrapped in the warm, golden light from the overhead fixture, the lingering scent of roasted herbs and garlic slowly fading in the air. On the stove, the pot of his favorite stew sits cooling, forgotten. You stand at the counter, drying your hands on a cloth, watching the last tendrils of steam vanish. Across the room, Spencer lingers in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the shadowed hall behind him. His eyes are fixed on the floor, avoiding yours. He looks gaunt, shoulders hunched as if carrying an invisible weight. The silence grows heavy, suffocating, until he finally lifts his gaze—a fleeting glance. "I'm actually not hungry," he murmurs, his voice soft and laced with apology. Then he turns away, and the space he leaves behind feels suddenly, profoundly cold. W…