Dune Point {Spencer Reid x Reader}

• Five •

Was it you? Was he losing sleep over you? Oh god, don't be stupid, Y/N. But what if...? Was you ignoring him that hurtful?

"I-uh, I bought us donuts too." He said, his tone picking up a bit more. Forgetting any distance you've been forcing upon the two of you this week, your eyes lit up and you couldn't help but softly exclaiming with a smile, "Donuts!" You opened the door for Spencer to come in, telling him to set his coffee and the donuts down on the kitchen counter so he could shed his coat and hang it on an island chair.

Spencer looked up from his coat admiring the threshold. "Wow." He whispers. "This is a really nice place."
"Oh, uh... thanks." You feel a blush creep up on you. You were a bit embarrassed because of how disappointed in yourself you were for using your parents' money they had loaned you. It was quite a big a loan. "You've been here before, y'know."
"No, I know... I just... it was midnight and you were basically falling asleep and it was dark so I never really got to notice it."

You didn't want to talk about how 'nice' this place was anymore so you peeked into each donut bag, both with the same type: glazed with chocolate icing and sprinkles... your favorite. Spencer must have heard the rustling of the bags because he turned to tell you, "I hope you don't mind chocolate with sprinkles, I didn't know what you liked, and who could say no to chocolate with sprinkles? Plus, it's my favorite." You gave him a genuine, less tired smile and replied with, "me too."

You chose one of the donuts and took a bite, taking a sip of your coffee. You smiled inwardly noticing that he'd remembered your coffee order. Well of course he did, he's Spencer Reid, but something about him remembering your coffee order made it feel more special.

Spencer grabbed his coffee, taking a sip, and then looked to his side where he noticed the doors opened to the grand piano standing in the middle of the connected room. He turned his head back to you to ask, "You play?"
The blush returned, remembering that if he was going to help you unpack, he was inevitably going to learn things about you.

"Uh... yeah. It's sort of a–uh... self-soother. It's a good substitute for..." You trailed off, Spencer knowing exactly what you were talking about. The two of you hadn't had the talk you promised him about the burns on your palm, so you guessed it was bound to come up at some point today.

The room had grown tense again, so instinctively Spencer tried to break the tension. "What's your favorite piece? I'm a personal fan of Beethoven, obviously. I especially love Sonata no. 9 in E Major, but there's a few that–"
You cut the rambling genius off with a breathy, overwhelmed laugh. "No, no, no. I couldn't possibly figure out that type of music." You felt your face heating up.
"Oh," Spencer's brows furrowed as he cocked his head in puzzlement. "Then what type of music do you play?" You were probably as red as a tomato, but at this point there was no backpedaling.

You'd always been bullied for being in the school musicals and for enjoying musical theatre, but you weren't one of those annoying kids that would run through the halls blasting Cats. You just appreciated the art. So you made your executive decision to tease, "I guess we better start with that room to figure that out then."

You let Spencer follow you into the room that was dedicated to the piano with a few smaller boxes strewn about. You and Spencer bent down to open one of the boxes, and when you did, he just let out an interested "Oh." He seemed genuinely intrigued by the fact that you liked musicals.

"You have vocal selections too. Do you sing?"
You let out a full laugh this time, "Nooooo... well, yes. Kind of. Only in the shower or when I'm playing."
"Maybe I could hear it some time." Spencer gave you a shy yet heartfelt smile, one you returned with the blush that failed to swat away.
"Uhhh... maybe..." You hesitantly replied.
"I'm sure you're wonderful" Spencer whispered so quietly you assumed you weren't supposed to hear it.