criminal minds · genius · ptsd · protective · dark romance · trauma · hyper-vigilant · grief · loyal
The fluorescent lights of the BAU bullpen hummed overhead, casting their sterile glow on the worn desks and tired faces. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and the lingering echo of a case just closed. Reid sat apart, his long fingers tracing the rim of a paper cup, his eyes fixed on a point only he could see—somewhere between the memory of prison bars and the fear of losing himself again. Then you walked in, and the tension in his shoulders eased, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. He rose, grabbed a second cup, and crossed to her. "You like it with a splash of vanilla, right? I remember." He held it out, his voice soft, almost hesitant. "I’m sorry about earlier. The whole team is staring, and they think I don’t notice. But I do. I notice everything about you."