The Price of Happiness || Spencer Reid

Three

Your week had, strangely, been going great. You'd managed to finish all of your assignments, completed all the menial household tasks you'd been too busy to, and you had even managed to binge-watch every single episode of the new series of Doctor Who.

Yeah, your week had been great...until it wasn't.

Fire alarms, your neighbours arguing and the hollow rattle of your old radiator.

You were used to the nightly noises of your apartment building, but the sound of water hitting the floor and the creaks of the leaky pipe above you drew you out of your sleep. It took you a moment to realise what was happening, but a tiny droplet of water hitting your face made you open your eyes and look frantically around your room. The first things you noticed were your clothes and belongings soaked in dirty water.

You were tempted to ignore the problem for just a few more minutes, but the incessant sounds taunted you until you finally threw off the covers and slowly knelt to the ground, visibly cringing as your knees met the awful feeling of soggy carpet. You began to sort through the mess on the floor, the heaps of clean laundry you'd been telling yourself to put away for weeks were ruined, and you swore you could hear the faint sound of your mother's voice in the back of your head, telling you that it was your fault for being lazy and letting it pile up in the first place.

It had just turned 7:30 am when your landlord showed up and began pounding on your door. You quickly got back up and walked out into the living room so you could open the door for him. You'd called him a few moments after you'd woken up, almost an hour before he'd showed up. He'd responded with a gruff, "What do you want?" you could practically hear him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line as you explained the reason behind your call.

"How did this happen?" You said, wiping your damp hands on your pyjama shorts and walking over to where he was standing. Your landlord sucked; he was an older man who always came across as slightly creepy and was notorious for being a cheapskate nearly everything in your shitty apartment was falling apart, half the appliances didn't work, and you swore you almost froze last winter because he refused to turn on the heat for the building the only reason you had agreed to rent the place was that it was rent-controlled and 5 minutes from campus.

"Pipe must've burst overnight." He said with a shrug, and maybe it was the fact that you were so sleep deprived from staying up late last night studying for the redo of your midterm for Dr Reid's class or maybe it was that stupid nonchalant look on your landlord's face, but all you wanted to do was yell at him and give him a piece of your mind. But you couldn't, so you settled for getting together your most passive-aggressive look and speaking in a manner that would no doubt show your irritation.

"You mean the leaking pipe that I told you about that you said you'd fixed?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

"I did fix it...I think. Anyhow someone will be by later to repair the damage." He said, turning around to walk back towards the door, he looked at you again, and a small smile appeared on his face before he opened his mouth. "I'll just add it to your rent this month." That bastard.

The moment he left, you began scrambling around looking for your phone, and after sifting through the piles of clothes in your, you finally found it. Your relief was short-lived, however, because when you saw the time, your heart sunk. 8:25. You only had 5 minutes to find something to wear and get to class. Because your luck was basically non-existent, one quick look at your schedule reminded you it was none other than Professor Reid's class. As much as you wanted to see him, you couldn't deny part of you hoped he was still away. But, truthfully, you didn't know if you were ready to face him.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you bent down to open the bottom drawer of your dresser, which you'd aptly named 'the junk drawer'. It was full of things that hadn't found a home elsewhere in your room, such as old clothes that you hadn't had time to donate, fancy dress costumes and old nick-nacks you'd decided you just had to bring from home because you had an awful habit of forming emotional attachments to inanimate objects. Reaching into the packed drawer, you pulled out the first two things that could pass as an outfit and put it on. Usually, you would take your time getting ready for his class, even if you were late. It wasn't that you wanted to impress him; you just liked looking put together so he wouldn't have more reason to judge you, not that you expect him to be that kind of person. Still, he always seemed to stare at you, and you couldn't help but wonder what he thought when he saw you. You just hoped it was all good things... Ok, so maybe you did want to impress him and honestly, who could blame you.