The Price of Happiness || Spencer Reid

One

5 PM came around much quicker than you'd have liked, and you found yourself standing in the hallway where Spencer's office was. Your hand rested against his office door as you wondered if you should knock or just turn around and walk away. You had been thinking about what would happen once you walked into his office. Was he going to yell at you or even kick you out of the class? The door swinging open alongside a slight, awkward cough startled you from your thoughts, and you looked up to see Spencer staring down at you, "Come in." is all he said before he walked back into the room, and you followed him obediently.

Your eyes moved across the quaint office earnestly, wanting to take in every little detail that you could. It was decorated with more books than your average library, with stacks of them littered all over the ground due to the overloaded bookshelves. An array of awards and accolades hung from the walls, and though it seemed wrong to do so, you made a small mental note of the lack of personal pictures. The only images that you could see were of Spencer, and two small boys and another with a radiant woman dressed like a rainbow had thrown up all over her. You couldn't help it, against your own better judgement, you began wondering who they were... if those were his kids and who the woman was, the thoughts filled you with a feeling you couldn't quite put your finger on. The room smelt faintly of coffee and the cologne he wore. The combination made your head dizzy, so you were grateful when he held his hand out towards the chair that sat adjacent to him and gestured for you to take a seat.

You tried to distract yourself from staring at him and analysing his facial expressions as he peered through the mystery paper in his hand. You were sure your lips were red from how you were nervously chewing at them, and your fingers were sore from the way you were anxiously picking at them. You subconsciously began squirming in your seat as he continued to read through the paper he held; his eyebrows furrowed in what you could only assume was a mixture of confusion and disappointment. It was stupid, but you felt an overwhelming sense of sadness wash over you, you had wanted him to like you. He was intelligent and attractive, his credentials were incredible, and it would be an honour to be respected by someone like him.

Spencer noticed you had fallen into your thoughts again and attempted to snap you out of them by placing the paper back on his desk. He bit back a smile at the way you jumped out of your trance. His hands came to clasp together, leaning forward as his eyes met yours, "Miss Y/L/N..." He started, and before you could stop yourself, you interrupted him.

"Y/N is fine... or Miss Y/L/N, whatever you prefer sir." You mumbled, shrinking back into your chair as the embarrassment of your sudden interruption overtook you.

Spencer raised his eyebrow in amusement, his lip turning up into a slight smirk at the honorific, a smirk you would've missed if you hadn't been staring intently at his face,

"Very well Y/N, I assume you know why I called you into my office?" He asked, and you couldn't tell if the question was rhetorical, so you decided to answer just in case.

"If this is about earlier in class, then I truly am sorry." You replied, watching as he shook his head.

"It's not and I apologise if I seemed harsh today but I hope, after I show you this, you will understand why." He gave you a small smile and handed you the paper he'd been looking through, the letter D circled multiple times in red at the top of it made your stomach sink. He'd handed you your midterm. You knew you hadn't done well, but you hadn't expected it to be wrong, especially not a D.

"Y/N, I know you're smart and more than capable of doing better than this. Now, I'm aware there have been some problems but I like to believe I was understanding of your situation and I had hoped you'd feel comfortable to talk to me if you were facing any more issues." He said; a look of concern filled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, a subtle way of telling you this was an opportunity to explain.