How Dare You [ReidxReader]

(2) Old and new scars

note: TW description of blood/bleeding

You wake up with a terrible headache. The alarm is ringing relentlessly. Groaning, you get out of bed. You splash cold water in your face, but your head still feels heavy. It was a bad night. Lots of nightmares. At some point, you gave in and took a sleeping pill. Apparently, it was too late at night, because now you could hardly see straight. Additionally, the laceration on your forehead isn't completely healed yet.

Slowly, you get in the shower and try to rinse off the terrible feeling the night left you with. The hair at the back of your neck grew longer than you like it. You pin the rest of your hair up and get a razor to cut it short. It's not a perfect undercut, but it's fine. Downing a bottle of water, you get ready for the day at the BAU.

You put on black eyeliner, mascara, and some concealer to hide how bad your night was. You put on the jewelry that lays on your nightstand, including rings and ear cuffs. As long as you're not in the field it should be alright to wear them. You holster your gun and put your FBI jacket on over your hoodie.

With your keys in one hand and your go-bag in the other, you jog to your car. Whereas most Agents drive a SUV even outside of work, you prefer your black Dodger. You speed off to get coffee before driving to the Bureau. Parking in front of a café, you sigh when you see who is in line a few people ahead of you: Reid.

You don't know if you should try to ignore him and pretend you didn't notice or walk over to greet him. If he didn't have this shitty attitude towards you, you would probably actually like him. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he is still in a bad place because of Prentiss' death. That's no excuse to lash out at you like that but hey.

You skip the people in front of you and step next to Reid just when he is about to order. He notices you and hesitates. The cashier clears her voice, and he turns away to order.
You tell her: "Same for me." Then you pay for both your coffees. Reid doesn't thank you or say anything about you suddenly appearing next to him. The both of you stand in silence while waiting for your order.

Outside the café, you ask: "Do you live nearby?"
For the first time, since you met, he properly looks into your eyes: "Yes."

You like his eyes. They are kind but in their depth sadness lingers. "How do you get to the office?" You keep staring at his face.

His features soften slightly. His lips part and the muscles of his jaw visibly relax. The frown on his forehead disappears for a moment. It's back when he tells you: "I walk or take the metro."

You gesture towards your car: "Can I give you a lift?"

There is conflict in his eyes. He pauses. "I understand if you would rather like to walk." You add, slowly walking towards your car. Reid keeps standing still like he his frozen to the pavement. You get in and put your coffee in the cup holder. Then you lean over to push the passenger seat door open. "Come on." You yell.

Finally, he moves and gets in the car. His legs are too long, and you have to lean against him to adjust the seat. He presses himself into the seat like he is trying to escape our touch. You turn the key and your car roars to life. Backing out of the parking spot, you look over at Reid. He is fidgeting with his cup. "We don't have to talk." You assure him and turn on the radio.

- - - - - - - - - -

In the elevator, Reid seems to have mustered up the courage to turn to you and say: "Thanks."

You give him a smile: "You're welcome."

After a few moments of silence, he blurts out: "I like your hair." Now you're surprised.