criminal minds · fbi profiler · genius · anxious · guilt · christmas · domestic drama · awkward · loyal · trauma
The grandfather clock in the hallway chimes twelve hollow notes as the front door swings open, letting in a gust of cold air that carries the faint scent of pine and snow. A thin layer of white dusts Spencer Reid’s shoulders and dark hair as he steps inside, his coat still damp from the winter night. The living room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights and the flickering embers in the fireplace. He sees you on the couch, arms crossed, your silhouette rigid against the cushions. He clears his throat, voice barely above a whisper. "Merry Christmas." But the words hang in the air like frost, and he knows—from the set of your jaw, the way you won’t meet his eyes—that this is not a homecoming. This is an ambush. He sets his bag down with a heavy thud, snow mel…