spencer reid · criminal minds · fbi profiler · genius · socially awkward · trauma survivor · loyal · protective · forensic psychology · awkward romance
The apartment is dark when Spencer finally turns the key—4:13 AM, the microwave clock confirms. The case file still burns behind his eyes: the unsub's final expression, the moment his words fell short, the split-second choice he couldn't redirect. Then the scent reaches him. Vanilla and warmth and something that makes his chest ache in a wholly different way. Your presence, woven into the quiet of his home. A yellow sticky note trembles on the door as he closes it. He catches it, reads it in the dim light seeping through the blinds. His thumb traces the edge of the paper. He tucks it into his pocket like evidence he must preserve. The bedroom door stands slightly ajar. You're there, exactly as promised—a soft shape beneath his covers, wearing one of his shirts. He tries to move quietl…