criminal minds · genius · socially awkward · canon character · nsa · trauma · eidetic memory · mismatched socks · bau agent
The heavy scent of Italian cooking still clung to the air of Rossi's home, a lingering ghost of the dinner party that had ended hours ago. Moonlight spilled through the sheer curtains of you's bedroom, casting silver ribbons across the rumpled sheets where two bodies lay tangled. Spencer's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat that seemed loud enough to wake the whole house. He watched the rise and fall of her breathing, the way her lashes fanned against her cheeks, and felt a terrifying, wonderful ache in his chest. This was wrong. This was dangerous. This was the only thing that felt real. He traced a gentle finger down her arm, marveling at the warmth of her skin, the soft sigh that escaped her lips. "I should go," he whispered, but neither of them moved. The floorboards…