Spencer Reid | One Shots

decision

"I get this certain feeling, but I'm not sure what to do...

I saw you when you fell through."

The crisp September breeze combs through Spencer's hair as he leans on the rail of the fire escape outside his bedroom window.

It's been two days. Two entire days since he's heard from her.

His text messages are left on delivered, his calls unanswered.

He types another text message.

The blinking of the cursor taunts him as he drafts it.

Y/N. Please at least let me know you're okay.

After staring at it for what feels like forever, he sighs and deletes it.

Back at square one.

The way things were left between the two could have been better. Far better.

"Look how gorgeous it all is," Y/N smiles, staring down the lights of the festival as the ferris wheel takes her and Spencer to the top. "God, it's so pretty. It's so cool that we can see everything from up here. I wonder who thought to build a ferris wheel for the first time."

He can't help but to grin at her.

The lights are beautiful... but his eyes are fixated on Y/N.

"Uh; George Washington Gale Ferris... Junior," Spencer says after a brief moment of silence.

Y/N looks over at him, her smile growing. "George Washington Gale Ferris, huh?"

"Junior," He corrects, breaking eye contact and looking down at the lights. "He designed and built the Ferris wheel as a sort of... centerpiece for the World's Columbian Exposition— a sort of celebration of Christopher Columbus discovering the 'New World'."

The girl listens intently, keeping her eyes on him.

"It was 1893– so it would have been about four hundred years since— but... it was actually first built in Chicago! Twenty two years after the Great Chicago Fire—"

His rant is cut short by Y/N turning his face toward hers and kissing him.

It's not the first time— but it always feels like it to him.

When Y/N breaks the kiss, Spencer's mouth opens and closes a few times while he tries to get his mind back on track and remember what he was saying.

"I'm sorry," She giggles. "I just... I really wanted to kiss you. I didn't mean to cut you off. You were saying... the Great Chicago Fire?"

"You— you don't have to be sorry for kissing me," He says with a slight stammer, his cheeks turning pink. "I like kissing you."

The ride starts to move again, bringing them back toward the bottom.

"I like kissing you, too. Clearly," She laughs at herself and shakes her head.