MEDICINE ➤ SPENCER REID

FOURTEEN

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." - Anonymous.

* * *

"Which one shall I wear?"

Louise held two jackets up to her chest in her bedroom mirror, seeing in the reflection as Georgie Jones, her closest friend, sat on her bed with a scrunched up facial expression.

"Neither," Georgie spread herself out on Louise's bed, "they both don't suit your outfit."
Louise sighed, looking down to what she wore; a pair of loose jeans, mismatched socks and an oversized sweater that supported her favourite football team - Seattle Seahawks.

"Don't wear a jacket," Georgie spoke up, "your sweater will keep you warm and besides, I doubt it'll rain," her hand pointed to a window; for the sun shone dimly in the orange sky - and not a cloud was in sight. Louise huffed and hung the two jackets back up in her wardrobe, "I swear to God, if it rains, I will kill you," a chuckle escaped her lips.

Georgie raised her hands in a surrender position, "okay, okay."

Earlier today, Louise and Spencer had agreed on going out on a date - but it would have to be in the evening, for Spencer had to catch the subway back to Washington D.C. from work, and that were in Virginia.
They were more than happy to go out on this date; for spending time with one another was one of the most important part of their relationship - seeming Louise's life expectancy is shorter than most people.

Louise looked at her alarm clock, passing by her bed that was occupied by Georgie, "shit, is that the time?" she stuttered out, realising how she still had to walk all the way the subway station that her partner would usually stop at.
Georgie chuckled, nodding as she rested her chin in the palm of her hands, propping her head up by her elbows.

Louise grabbed at her keys and bag, swinging it over her shoulder while pacing through her room - fingers fiddling with the nasal cannula that she yet to place under her nostrils. Georgie flopped off from Louise's bed, stumbling after her best friend.

Passing the living room, Louise slipped on her battered converse shoes and headed for her front door - Georgie willingly following behind like a lost puppy.
"Enjoy your date," the blonde winked as she too slid on her shoes, quick to throw on her denim jacket.

Louise chuckled while stepping outside her front door, feeling Georgie's presence behind her, "I will."

"See you at work!"

Not even an hour had passed, and Louise stood with a face mask on and a nasal cannula that pumped borrowed air into her nostrils - flowing into her damaged lungs. She propped herself up by a dirty, dingy wall - leaning her weight on her leg.
In the local Washington D.C. subway station, people swarmed like flies attracting to food - making Louise feel extremely uncomfortable - and even the thought of the germs in the area made her squirm.

Trains passed by without stopping, making Louise wonder what time exactly her boyfriend, Spencer, would arrive back from work. Each train made a horrifying squeal as they flew by, causing Louise to flinch every single time. She stood right beside a wall, only a few feet away from the train tracks, phone in one hand and the other hand stuffed into her jean pocket.