One magnificent sunset and two strangers torn apart by their lives, but brought together to make a perfect whole.
Can Y/N and Spencer Reid survive against the ghosts of their pasts in this tale of two broken lovers?
*the authors note has more descri...
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A/N: I'm like partially color blind so sorry if the colors are absolutely wrong when describing some things
TW: Mention of self harm Insinuations of depression Anxiety Attack, fainting
• • • • • • • • •
"Saturday? Nine AM?"
"I'll bring the coffee." Spencer gave you a thumbs up with a tight-lipped smile which you returned, adding a slow nod. You swiftly exited the break room, leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts, once again.
Those thoughts particularly focused on you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The first chords of Lakeshore Drive pulled you out of your sleep like they had done every day. You tiredly lifted your body to turn off the alarm set for 8:00 am and snatch your glasses off your night stand. You had enough time to make breakfast, shower, and get changed before Spencer is supposed to arrive.
You hadn't really talked to him at all since your conversation a few days ago. It wasn't that you were trying to ignore him, it was that you were trying to ignore your surroundings. Every day was just a repeat of the day before, involving you actively just trying to get through it in one piece – one very worn out piece, but one piece altogether.
As you lifted yourself off your bed, your ears picked up on the rain pelting at your windows, giving you a tranquil sensation. Gloomy weather never ceased to soothe you, especially the rain. The rain let your hopeless romanticism run free, only dreaming that one day you could get passionately kissed in the rain. You wanted so badly to just run outside and bask in the shower from the heavens, but alas, you reverted to the now familiar feel of the simple shower that sat across the hall from you.
Although, you had unpacked your entire bedroom and bathroom, you still had a whole couch to build and an abundant Instacart delivery that had to be organized and put away. You also already inherited the grand piano from the previous owners that was bolted into the ground in its own room with enough space to fill an entire cabinet of music books. You were desperately going to need help unloading all those books, but you definitely didn't have enough to fill all those cabinets. Then again, you were a bit worried about what Spencer would have to think about your plethora of piano and vocal books from your favorite musicals.
You tried your hardest to push aside your disoriented thoughts about the genius as you grabbed your phone and shuffled one of your playlists. This time, The Partisan by Leonard Cohen began to play. Disregarding the lyrics, the vibe fit the weather: gloomy – although it could be said the lyrics were quite gloomy... in the simplest sense. You stripped your pajamas, turning your phone to full volume, placing it on your sink counter, and stepping into the steaming hot shower.
