Strings

Frayed Ends

Spencer walked into the bullpen the next morning, his bloodshot eyes sulking into the deep bags that hung below. He wanted to stay home and just bury himself beneath a mountain of blankets, but he didn't want to give you that too. He had given you everything. He poured his heart out for you, placing it into your hands, only for you to throw it away. He hated that you left, he hated that you ended things, and he hated that he would have to work with you every day, knowing there was nothing he could do but wallow in his hurt. But he didn't hate you.

No matter how much he wanted to, he could never hate you. But he sure could hate himself.

He couldn't let you know that, however. He couldn't let you know how you destroyed him. How when you stormed out of his apartment less than six hours ago, you took all of him with you. He needed to be strong.

His plan was simple. Avoid you at all costs. It was easier said than done, however, considering your desks were across from one another. He slumped down into his desk chair, busying himself with paperwork, not daring to look up, no matter how much he was itching to spy on the glass doors.

You grasped onto Emily's hand in the elevator, willing the tears that threatened to breach your waterline to stay at bay. She gave your shoulder a gentle nudge, silently asking if you were okay. Taking in a deep breath, you nodded, breathing out as the elevator doors opened.

You had made your choice and Spencer had made his. All you could do now was focus on your work, and try not to break down every five seconds like you had been doing all night.

When you walked into the bullpen, you saw Spencer hunched over his desk, not even sparing a glance up. You didn't blame him. He had every right to be mad at you and hate you. You sighed, slowly making your way to your desk across from his.

You gripped the back of your chair, slowly pulling it out in an attempt to be as quiet as possible. After setting your bag down on the ground and pulling out some files, you granted yourself a moment to look at Spencer. His eyes were trained on the documents in front of him, never faltering from their vertical trajectory. He had a slight scowl on his face, his eyebrows scrunched and his lips pursed. You knew him, and you knew he was hurting. The pang of guilt rose in your chest, clawing its way around your throat. Its grip tightened, pushing the tears from behind your eyelids. You cleared your throat, hoping that it would mask the silent tears that trailed down your cheeks.

Upon hearing you, Spencer immediately looked up, only to be met with you avoiding his gaze. Your head was down, causing your hair to drape around your face, hiding it from him. He scoffed before aggressively shoving his chair back.

"Spen-," you choked out at his abrupt movement. But, before you could finish, he had walked away, not even sparing a glance back at you. You sighed in defeat, wiping away the tears that burned your face. Fine, you thought to yourself, if he wants space, he can have space. He can have whatever he wants. The sad part of that was, you knew Spencer could have whatever he wants, and he had made it abundantly clear that it wasn't you.

Spencer was bubbling with rage, fueled by the pain he was trying to quell. How dare you waltz in here and sit across from him as if nothing happened. You were the one who left. You were the one who said it was over. Spencer ran his hand across his face in frustration as he approached the kitchen. His feet faltered at the doorway, however, when he heard hushed voices coming from within.

"What's up with (Y/l/n)?" Derek asked. Spencer felt his heart stop at the mention of your name. She broke my heart and wants to pretend that nothing happened is what's up, he thought in spite.

"She said things ended with this guy she was seeing," Emily said, sympathy lacing her voice. "She came to my place crying last night, and she didn't stop until the car ride this morning". A frown made its way across Spencer's face at Emily's hushed words. Despite how much pain he was feeling, it hurt, even more, to know you were upset. He still loved you, no matter how hard he tried not to. Spencer took a deep breath, finally walking into the kitchen.