𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 [spencer reid]

34. this or nothing

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

          Francesca greeted her doorman with a welcoming grin before heading to her unit's mailbox. Shoving the key in the lock, she twisted it absentmindedly until the miniature door pulled open. Inside the box were its usual contents – bills, credit card advertisements, and the random weekly magazine from Pottery Barn. The girl reached for the mail, eyes flicking through it while she shut the box and locked it. She was about to head to the elevator when a cream colored envelope caught her eye. She snagged it from between the magazine and cable bill, eyes widening when she saw the familiar Georgetown University seal. Francesca froze for a bit, but when she came to her senses, she busted right back out the front door of her building.

          "Hello," Spencer Reid's adorable voice rang over Francesca's car's Bluetooth. "I was just thinking of you."

          Francesca backed out of her parking spot aggressively. "I got it," she cried. "It came."

          "Your decision?" he asked, tone elevating.

          "Yeah, my decision," Francesca repeated, now exiting the parking lot. "I'm on my way to your place. I need you to open it for me."

          "What? Why me?"

          "I'm nervous!" the girl screeched. "What if I was rejected? If you open it, at least I wouldn't actually have to see it."

          Spencer silenced for a bit before reassuring her. "I promise you, whatever happens will be what's right for you. Hey, should I get a cake so we can celebrate?"

          "If you just jinxed me, I'll never forgive you."

.・。.・

          When she reached Quantico, Francesca pounded on the door to apartment twenty-three. Her excitement was overtaking her, so she felt like she were waiting outside for hours. In reality, it took Spencer only a few seconds to open the door after his girlfriend's pounding, eager grin on his face. "He–"

Francesca barreled past him, ignoring his greeting. She found herself in his living room, pacing while waving the piece of mail in the air. "This is it, Reid," she reminded him as he closed the door. "It's this or nothing."

"Don't think like that," Spencer begged, coming to join her in the center of the room. He placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging them slightly. "There are plenty of other law schools."

"But if I don't get in then I'm a horrible alumnus," Francesca pushed the letter into his chest. Her eyes dragged from it to Spencer's brown ones. "Just open it."

Spencer rested his hand on top of hers, giving her a nod to release the letter. She did as he implied, watching anxiously as his fingers held it. He slid his pointer finger under the envelope's opening. "Should I give you a facial expression based on what I see?" he asked over the ripping sound.