Playing with my Heart | A Spencer Reid story

Trust me

Sophia didn't know what happened earlier. She had spent the better part of the day spinning around and around in her chair, staring up at the ceiling, spinning her pencil in between her fingers.

She didn't talk about her anxiety. Primarily because she didn't like to admit it. She didn't give a fuck about what people thought. But she knew she wasn't what people thought. They didn't know. No one knew. Not really.

"Ran out of idea?" The question was prefaced with a knock. Spencer leaned his head on the door frame.

Sophia threw her head back on her chair, looking towards the door. She sat up quickly when she saw upside down mop of Spencer's hair.

"Something like that." She exhaled deeply, hiding her eyes from him. It was like she knew that if he saw them, he would know. "There won't be any progress today."

Spencer took a minute to assess how he should address the situation form earlier. He opted with a simple. "Can I come in?"

Sophia pointed to an empty chair. "Sure."

Spencer strode towards the chair. He hesitated as he lowered himself to Sophia's eye level. "Something is wrong."

Sophia looked around at her work. "With my research?" The concern in her face was priceless.

Spencer grabbed the arm rest on her chair and spun her back around. "No," he chuckled. Then he was serious. "With you?"

"What?" Sophia denied. What the hell she thought. You don't say that to people.

"Not that there is something wrong with you. Just that somethings wrong."

"I'm fine." Sophia tried to roll her chair back.

Spencer gripped onto the chair keeping it still. "Please don't lie."

Sophia narrowed her eyes. Her throat went dry. "Why do you care?"

Spencer was taken aback. He didn't know how to answer that. "I... don't know"

"Don't worry about me Dr Reid. I'll be fine." Spencer felt the sting when she referred to him as Dr Reid. How he longed for his name to roll of her tongue again. If he believed in fate some would say it was cruel to him. He finally felt different. Finally felt like someone could see him for who he actually was. But she was his student. And although she may sometimes sound like a 40-year old at heart, she was only twenty two. Seven years younger than Spencer. He couldn't even justify a relationship as simple as being friends with her. All he did was long to have an excuse to be near her.

"Can I show you something?"

Sophia was unsure. Spencer seemed a little blunt and not to aware of his surroundings. "What," she enquired.

"It's not here"

Sophia was sceptical. She looked around once more at the piles of papers that she had sprawled around her. "I don't know."

Spencer lifted himself from his seat. "Have a good day, Sophia."

"Yeah, you too."

As he left all she could think was, is that it. He gave up easily. She was beginning to surprise herself at her toxicity. Maybe this game was getting to her head. Maybe she was overthinking it. Just because he was always around doesn't mean he liked her. He might just actually be overwhelming interested in her work.

She watched the whole way as Spencer passed by every glass window that lined the walls. Why was she so affected by him. She was usually the one that was unbothered by everyone and everything.

You know what. Fuck it. She pushed off the chair and rapped on the glass window. "Only if it involved food."

Spencer cheekily grinned back at her, motioning for her to come out. She plucked her jacket from the back of her chair and scuttled out after him. "You better not be a serial killer," she joked as she let her feet fall in line with his.

But Spencer walked in silence. And that was killing her. On top of that, the direction they were walking was baffling her. She was ready to turn back when he held open a door that looked like it hadn't been touched in over 50 years let alone opened.

She looked up at him after peeing through the dark doorway. He encouraged her to go through.

"Now I'm definitely getting serial killer energy," she breathed out but went along with it anyway.

She stepped through doorway, with Spencer close behind. She could feel his breath on her neck. She looked up and saw a steep stone spiral staircase, twisting around around for what looked like infinity. She stopped and tuned around, bumping into Spencer's chest.

"Do you trust me?" He whispered. She wasn't sure why. They were alone.

"I don't know you," she reminded him.

"The ultimate test," he remarked back. Then picked up her hand, gently. He began to lead her up the steps. Her feet complied without a care of what her brain was screaming.

Step after step, the firm but soft grip that Spencer had on her hand became more natural as if he were a mere extension of her.

She didn't know that Spencer's heart was beating out of his chest the minute that he had boldly decided to take her hand. This was the first touch that was intentional. What he wanted to feel from the time when his hand had grazed hers on that short walk that had been on his mind every night when he was willing sleep to take him.