the feelings that we hide | SPENCER REID

24. infatuation

Spencer definitely did feel the same way. He knew that as well. And when he read it, he felt bad that he didn't say anything to her about it before. He partly didn't because it would've been extremely unprofessional.

After closing the journal, he turned around to look back at her and his eyes glowed in admiration, pupils dilated as he wondered if her feelings for him were still there or at least lingering. Yes, he was a brilliant profiler—they both were—but they sucked at picking up on each other's affection for each other. The tension was there all the time; them both feeling awkward and hot when they were alone. Even when they were working—they just sat there, thinking about the feelings that they hid from each other.

...

When Vanessa woke up she heard chit chat coming from outside her door—Spencer and her mom were talking about coffee and mugs. She cringed to herself when her mom started to show off Vanessa's overdramatic looking coffee mugs.

"This one we got at Disneyland when she was just a little toddler," said Rowan, showing off a mug that looked like the poisonous apple from Snow White. "She was probably only 3 or 4 and strictly drank hot chocolate." She and Spencer both laughed as they looked at more mugs.

Vanessa came out of her room to see the both of them still in their sleep attire. Spencer's hair was fluffy and messy, making him look 10x more attractive than he already was. Feeling butterflies in her stomach, she stood there waiting for Spencer to look at her. And he did... adding a warm smile at her.

"Good morning!" said Rowan. "Spencer and I were just admiring your coffee mugs. He's very lovely. Why didn't you tell me he was going to spend the night?"

"It was unplanned, mom," said Vanessa, strolling over and grabbing the poisonous apple mug and pouring the pot of hot coffee in it. "Did you want some?" She asked Spencer, and he shook his head, pressing his lips into a straight line.

"Why don't you bring him here more often?" asked Rowan, resting her elbows on the counter.

"Because of work," said Vanessa. "And we should probably leave early and go to your place so you can get dressed for work, Spence."

Spencer nodded, looking down at his current attire and fighting back a laugh.

Leaving her apartment building, Vanessa was very cautious and wary, making sure they weren't being followed. She even took a few extra turns to his place, which Spencer picked up on right away. He didn't say anything about it, obviously; he figured she had forgotten the roads that led to his place since it's been a while since she's been there.

"I can wait in the car," she said, putting the car in park and turning off the ignition.

"No, no. You let me in your apartment, so you're coming inside of mine," he announced, lifting up his satchel and leaving the car. "Come on." His hands motioned for her to get out, and she hesitantly obliged.

Vanessa exited the vehicle, locked the car door, and followed Spencer up to the 2nd floor. She stared down at her boots, distracted from the deep clink noise they made every time she stepped, making her bump into Spencer before she realized he had stopped walking.

Spencer's apartment was similar to Vanessa's. It was neat and smelled nice. His smelled for like cinnamon and mahogany—much like his cologne scent, she realized. He had a sofa and an armchair adjacent with each other, and his curtains blocked out most of the sunlight from outside. His desk was neater than Vanessa's—but still had a few loose papers— and sat near the front door. Books coated one of the far walls while the rest was painted in a hunter green and the occasional picture frames. Vanessa admired the cozy aroma and furniture pieces—vintage and muted with color.