She can tell those three words turn me on and I know she's trying to hide a smile. Slowly, her hand travels up my chest, starting at my lower abdomen, and working up to the center-making me want to shiver at her light caress. She sticks out her fing...
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Most of my day that was supposed to be spent relaxing was throwing up in a bathroom on my knees.
The word Murderer never ceased. It echoes in my mind. I even had to excuse myself a couple of times while working or speaking with dead family members' relatives. The blood that I usually see during my job was like nothing, but seeing it now after Spencer Reid showed up at my door was a whole other thing, and it was enough to send me spiraling.
I didn't understand. Spencer Reid was an agent- a good one and could kill people. I've heard my fair share of agents going downhill and killing, but my mind never would've conjured up Spencer Reid. By the time JJ, Emily, and Penelope were all hung over, I had wished I never agreed to going out tonight and being the designated driver.
Every last part of me feels raw by the time I finally make it into my apartment building. It's almost dark now, and even though I am a trained agent and know how to kick ass, I shove my hands into my pockets with my keys between my knuckles as I hurry to the front door. Breathing out a sigh of relief as I enter unscathed and safe, I go to the living room, hoping I can go right to bed.
My mind wanders to Auggie, and I hope he's sleeping well at my mother's. I could make a quick call, but it's 12 in the morning.
"Why are you so worked up?"
I scream. I scream until my lungs hurt, grabbing my gun before spinning around towards the culprit. Only to scream even louder upon seeing the thing that I only knew was about to make my night a thousand times worse.
Reid sprawled out on my couch, remote in his hand, while the other digs into a box of Cheez-its.
Spencer winces, cupping a hand over his ear and throwing his legs off my coffee table. "Shhhh."
My throat was raw as I finally quieted down, mouth still apart in shock. "Why are you here?! I told you to leave! How did you even get in when my door was locked?"
Reid didn't respond. He rolls his eyes, taking his time to scroll through more channels. My eyes flit to my coffee table, where one of his guns is casually sitting.
"Reid," I seethe. "Why the fuck, are you in my apartment."
He shot me a glare. "What part of 'I don't have anywhere to go,' don't you understand?"
"There are things called shelters!" I throw my hands up in exasperation. "Just because you decided to murder people doesn't mean I'm going to be a part of it!" My body was back to feeling numb with fear. "How did you even get in?"
"I have an IQ of 187. I know the ins and outs of every lock, probably in this city. How do you think I got in?"
I just mutter under my breath. God, I want to punch him. He stands up, stretching with an exaggerated groan. "I've been waiting here all day," he says, but I ignore him and walk over to the kitchen, brushing against his shoulder as I pass. "Okay...." My mouth falls open once more. Where yesterday the fridge only contained butter, some rotting vegetables, and milk, now holds food covering every open shelf. It's nearly overflowing as Spencer looks over my shoulder. "Oh yeah, stalked your fridge."
