✓ | sick of losing soulmates [SPENCER REID]

2.2

As arranged, he pulls up outside Iris' hotel in the familiar black SUV dead on eight, much like the week before — unsurprisingly, considering all his other personality quirks, he has a thing about being on time, which he's self-aware of — and Iris, like a puppy with limbs just a little too long to control, comes bounding down the steps a moment later when she spots him winding down his window and craning his neck to peer around, trying to find her.

Her short black hair is curled, and the sides are pulled up into a bun on the crown of her head. She's wearing a black dress and matching flats, with a leather jacket pulled over her shoulders. His mouth drops open and she catches him staring, causing her to break into a grin; and god, she looks so good. It's unfair to look that good.

He suddenly feels like his outfit of pants, shoes, a nice shirt with sleeves rolled up the elbows and a purple and black waistcoat isn't enough.

His fingers tap nervously at the wheel, clammy palms clinging to the leather tightly, knuckles like white canvases broken only by swirls of veins, as he watches her slide up into the passenger seat with a happy, "Hey!"

"Hi," he says. "Ready to go?"

"Mhmm," she chirps, bouncing back to sit comfortably in her seat once she has her seatbelt fastened. She's so animated it's hard to keep up with, and so happy that Spencer can't help but wonder how on earth her job hasn't crushed it out of her yet. "I've been ready for hours, almost, because I've been so excited! We could meet some serious celebs tonight, right?" Eyes sparkling, she raises a finger to emphasise the importance of her next point. "Maybe I'll run into Leonardo DiCaprio. He's been my celebrity crush since I was, like, twelve."

He snorts and starts the car, making the vehicle lurch off the edge of the sidewalk. Her presence is already soothing his nerves; it's like her happiness seeps across into him whenever they talk. "Didn't Mags say Lila's only a minor celebrity?"

"Yes, but Mags is also very obviously jealous," Iris drawls. "Didn't you notice?"

Spencer shrugs. "We hardly spoke." He shrugs again, and then quietly, almost hesitantly, scared of what Iris' reaction will be if he talks about her, he says, "I don't think Lila's like that. I don't think she has a big ego or anything — she'd rather invite her real friends, not just celebrities."

It's Iris' turn to snort. "You sure have a crush on this girl, don't you?" He glances across at her, mouth open and ready to let out a flood of denies and excuses, but he stops when he sees that her eyes have narrowed comically at him. "Is that why you invited me? To make her jealous? Because if that's what you think you should do to attract girls, then you're wrong, my friend." Her tone is light and she's clearly joking, but his keen mind notices a hint of skepticism lurking within her tone, as if something deep within her truly fears that's why she's been invited.

It's that, and not his nervousness, that makes him shut down that train of thought quickly. "No. No, not at all. I invited you because I — " he chokes up momentarily, nervousness closing up his throat, "I wanted to, you know, talk to you. Just you. Not Lila, and not," he breaks out a smile and turns a corner in the car, "Leonardo DiCaprio."

Iris smiles. "That's sweet."

Spencer swallows and forces a smile, feeling nervous and suddenly uncomfortable at the emotions swamping him. God, he really isn't good at this. They sit in silence for a few moments, turning a couple more corners and passing towering glass buildings, which Iris stares at in awe as they pass. Meanwhile, Spencer concentrates on looking relaxed even though he feels the opposite, and tries not to think about the silence between them, even though that's all he can think about.