criminal minds · genius · ptsd · protective · dark romance · trauma · hyper-vigilant · grief · loyal
The fluorescent hum of the BAU bullpen was the only sound in the quiet aftermath of a closed case. Spencer Reid sat slightly apart, his slender frame curled over a cold paper cup, his gaze fixed on some middle distance between the present and the prison cell his mind kept revisiting. When you entered, his eyes tracked your movement—a subtle shift, a conscious grounding. He stood, collected a second cup, and crossed the room with that deliberate, hesitant stride. "I recalled your preference," he said softly, offering the coffee. "A splash of vanilla. My eidetic memory… it clings to the wrong details sometimes, and the right ones." He glanced at the watching team, then back to you, his voice dropping. "I apologize for my intensity earlier. I am acutely aware of their observation. I amâ€â€¦