Wild Nights, Wild Nights || Spencer Reid x Reader

19. You and I, To-Night!

It was hard to ruminate over something like that when every time he passed by you, his hand lingered on the small of your back affectionately; you'd had to bite down a smile every time.

It was just so hard to keep yourself at a distance from him when he just kept tearing down every wall you built to keep him out and building a bridge in its stead.

And you knew that between Boucher breathing down your neck, the potential transfer, and the case, you shouldn't have been concerning yourself with these things, especially when you knew that you couldn't give Spencer what he deserved, but it was nice to just pretend that you could have it—that you could have that more with him.

It was nice to just pretend that you didn't have to be alone, just for a moment.

But with every passing minute he was absent, you grew more and more worried. By the way his expression changed when he answered his phone, you had assumed it was his mother's doctor calling again. And given how long the conversation had been going on, you could also only assume that it wasn't good news.

You found it difficult to focus on conversation with JJ and Prentiss when your mind was too busy wondering if Spencer was okay, if he was upset or frustrated or needed to talk to someone. Your sense of self-preservation screamed at you to get a grip, to stop caring about him in distress, but you couldn't.

And the most frightening thing was that you didn't even want to stop.

So when fifteen minutes had ticked by, and when Morgan and Hotch had returned to your group, you found yourself staring at the glass door Spencer used and hadn't even registered that Prentiss was saying your name until she'd repeated it several times.

You whipped your head around to face her. "What?"

"Uh," Prentiss began, huffing a laugh, "you just seem a little distracted there, Y/N."

You blinked. "Sorry." And then, before anyone could inquire further, you added, "It's a bit warm in here. I think I'm going to go get some air."

"If you go outside, see if you can find Reid. We're leaving in thirty," Hotch said.

You nodded with a smile and then began walking away towards the glass door.

The door led out into a small grassy area separated from the garden by a few hedges and a metallic trellis arching over a narrow path. The entrance was a bit to the side, semi-obscured by a nearby willow tree that created a curtain of leaves before the trellis. Well placed stones decorated the walkway, and when you walked down the path and through the leaves, you were met with a circular intimate garden space enclosed by shrubbery and wooden lattices decorated by ivy. There was a stone fountain in the center with lights beneath the water, and the rest of the space was dimly lit by string lights draped delicately on the lattices and small garden lights staked into the perimeter.

And on the opposite side of the fountain, Spencer sat on one of the three benches in the area with his head tilted back towards the sky. He only looked back down when you walked towards him, the click of your shoes echoing through the space.

Spencer didn't say anything as you sat beside him close enough that your thigh brushed against his. The two of you stared at each other for a brief moment, the only audible sound being music filtering out from the venue and crickets in the distance, and you noted how tired he seemed, without even a trace of his usual smile.

Your heart yearned to comfort him, to take his burdens and put them on yourself.

So you placed your wine glass on the stone beneath the bench and turned your head up to the sky towards the stars. "What were you looking at?" you asked.