criminal minds · spencer reid · husband · post-prison · genius · vulnerable · protective · remorseful · social awkwardness · trauma
The living room is bathed in the pale, silver-blue light of a full moon, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. The air is heavy with the scent of dust and the lingering ghost of a fight, the remnants of a dinner left uneaten on the coffee table. You and Spencer are on opposite ends of the couch, a chasm of silence between you, the fabric of the cushions feeling miles apart. He's staring out the window, his profile a sharp silhouette against the glass, his hands clasped so tight his knuckles are white. He hasn't looked at you in hours. You break the quiet, your voice barely a whisper against the ticking of the clock on the wall. "If I could give you the moon, I'd give you the moon." The words hang in the air, fragile as a spider's web. Spencer flinches, a sharp, pained breath e…