Letters to Spencer Reid

4: care to explain?

A/N: apologies for yet another late update. I've lost complete motivation to rewrite this story, which I assumed prior was bound to happen eventually. If I suddenly disappear with this unfinished, you know why. I've also separated myself from this fandom for several reasons (mostly to grow as an individual and mature from mistakes) so writing this once more is a bit... uncomfortable. But nonetheless, enjoy chapter four folks!

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Light casts a beam through the small opening of your curtains. It's morning. You force your eyes to open, squinting in agony from the brightness. It doesn't take long until the hangover headache rips through your skull. You groan with a palm pressed tightly against your forehead. Last night's mistakes catch up with you as you remove the covers tangled within your body.

All of your memories are hazy. It feels like you're stuck in a dream, trying to find the exit but you can't see straight. Your hair is still up, despite the rubber band loosening during the night, the dress is still on, including Spencer's jacket, and you have one shoe still on your left foot. How did you make it into your apartment all by yourself? Someone must have helped. The mystery will remain until you can get some coffee in your system. Hopefully, that will help bring your brain to some clarity.

The second you step out of bed, you rush into the bathroom to clean off your destroyed makeup. It doesn't look as terrible as you imagined, but the mascara smeared across your eyes is enough to force you to wash off immediately. The chilled water splashing against your face is refreshing, accompanied by the cleanser clearing your pores. You quickly brush your teeth afterward and use some strong mouthwash to clear the "death breath" away. It's a simple yet effective way to revive yourself in the morning.

Next, you stumble your way into the closet to remove the one shoe and dress, slipping into the closest oversized t-shirt in your proximity. You place the diamond choker back into its specific drawer. Now that you're free of the binding and restrictive yet comfortable clothing, you head to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee as you take your shower. That gives you enough time to wallow under the water while the coffee cools down after brewing.

Perfect planning.

You remained in the shower for about fifteen minutes, letting each drop consume your irritability from the raging headache. After you felt clean and spotless, you turned off the water and slowly exited the home sauna you created. You drape the soft towel around your body, tightening the hem so it's secure. Then, you enter back into the kitchen pouring the coffee into your favorite mug, allowing you to take Advil now. The gentle vanilla flavor floods your tastebuds, already signaling your brain into "awake mode".

Keeping the coffee in hand, you search the entire apartment for your phone, which happened to be inside the bag. You start the search next to the front door where your keys lay. Nothing. The next option is your bedroom because you would have seen it when you were in the kitchen. It's not underneath the covers, not in the bathroom—there's no sign of the purse.

It's gotta be here somewhere.

You searched for a few minutes with no luck. Even after being awake for some time, you still can't seem to remember what happened last night. Did you give the purse to someone for safekeeping or were you robbed? The world may never know . . . until you go to work and see if someone gives it back to you, of course. The shitty thing is, no phone means no way to know if you have a case today. You all have the weekend off as usual, but that doesn't mean a psychopath won't spring up anytime soon.

Maybe I should check my email just to be sure?

Stepping into your closet, you finally make the decision to get dressed instead of walking around in a towel all day, which would be nice honestly. You put on a light blue long sleeve shirt paired with some shorts. No need to get fully dressed if you aren't going in to work for sure. You hop into your bed, grabbing your laptop from the nightstand beside your bed.