"What's your favorite word?" he asked, making you knit your eyebrows together, blinking at him as your mind tried to come up with an answer.
"I suppose it's vellichor."
"Vellichor: the strange wistfulness of used bookstores," he muttered making you...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
You blinked rapidly, walking out of the room. You had just watched a young girl die. You could have done something. You could have helped. And yet, she was dead, lifeless, bleeding out, and you were of no help.
You left the building, turning into the ally, crumbling onto the ground, hugging your knees to your chest. A few minutes later, a hand touched your shoulder, making you look up in fear. Spencer was crouched in front of you, a worried look on his face. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok," he said, you softening at his words.
"Thanks Spence."
"So, you ok?"
"Not particularly. I mean she's dead and it's on my hands."
"Y/N, no it's not," he soothed, moving to sit next to you. You curled into his arms, shaking your head.
"I made the call. I said to taunt him. And because of that, he killed her. He did it because of me."
"You couldn't have known."
"No, but I could've been smarter. I could've stayed up and came up with a better plan. Spence, I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can handle any more of this."
"Y/N? Don't tell me you're going to give up because of this?"
"It's my fault. No matter how hard we try, no matter how much we do, there's always crazy people, always killers."
"Nothing that we do, is done in vain. I believe, with all my soul, that we shall see triumph," he whispered into your hair. You sniffed, smiling at him softly before placing a small kiss on his lips. "What was that for?"
"You quoted Dickens, you remembered."
"I will always remember when we first met," he replied, holding your face in his hands gently. You frowned, looking down at the ground.
"Spencer, you know we can't be together. We promised."
"I have fallen more in love with you as my friend these past few weeks than I did with our bookstore dates," he said plainly making your breath catch in the back of your throat.
You bit your lip, looking at him as you moved his hand away from your cheek. "God-damn it Spencer."
Morgan came outside to check on you, seeing you and Spencer leaned against one another, as you sat in silence. "Whenever you guys are ready, we think we may have a lead," he alerted, making you look up, your hand still intertwined with Spencer's.
You sat in silence for a few more minutes following that, just thinking about what had been said. Eventually, Spencer stood up, lifting you to your feet. You smiled and squeezed his hand before walking inside, Spencer following.
Hotch looked up as you re-entered the conference room. "Everything ok?"
"Yeah, thanks," you replied, taking a breath. Spencer re-appeared, handing you a coffee. You smiled at him, taking a sip. He always knew your order and always got it right. It was one of the many little things he did that made you fall more in love with him.
