{twenty-one}

547 15 9
                                    

Now that your parents were out of the picture you couldn't help but feel a void in your heart for them. You still didn't want to tell Spencer but you had to eventually whether you like it not. All your life your parents shoved money in your face like an apology, but this time it wouldn't work.

Today was your last day in New York and you could finally make your way back home. Most of the time you wondered how you ended up dating the man you resented a year go. Usually you weren't scared to face him after a bad day, but a part of you felt like he would see through you.

After you decided it was time to get you ass out of bed, you put on a nice outfit to cover your lack of presentation the past three days. A part of you wanted to finally have justice for Mikayla after all these years, but the truth was the scariest part.

You threw your small suitcase in the backseat, plopping down in the drivers seat and started the car. What would you even say to Spencer? One day he is going to see through you and pry out the real truth.

-

"I'm back!" you called from the front door. You offered Spencer to stay at your apartment for the time being. "Hey princess how was it?"

"It was good I love visiting them" you fake smiled putting your luggage down by the coat rack. Spencer nodded his head hesitantly. Younger you could hide her feelings than you now so you were trying your best. "So what did you do?" you mused trying to change the subject as quickly as possible.

"Read, how was the weather up there?"

You new he was already catching on, he was an amazing profiler.

"Cold, what's for dinner?"

"Not sure, did you enjoy it there?" he interrogated. How the hell did this man already catch on!

"Of course I did" you muttered. He hummed in response. He began to fold up blankets and organize your books.

"When were you going to tell me?" he broke the silence after a few minutes of you studying his movement. His eyes were filled of anger.

"Tell you what?" you acted dumb knowing he wouldn't pity you. 

You began to take a sip of your red wine, "That your parents killed your sister." you practically choke on the wine lingering in your mouth. How did he even find out about that? The letters maybe? You stayed silent trying to not say the wrong thing.

"I found the letters y/n" he spoke stern and darkly, a side you've never seen before.

"This is none of your business" you spat. And it was the truth those letters were in a locked safe which means he fucking snooped around your house, again.

Truly you didn't know how to respond to him. How could anyone. It wasn't a normal conversation starter to say the least. You trusted him but its only been two months, you weren't fond of telling your past to people. Esme was the only one who really knew part of the story. But something about telling another FBI agent put a pit in your stomach., not that you weren't one, but you didn't want an investigation. "It is now" he growled back. This wasn't his time to be mad it was your problem.

"No its not Reid! Why were you even snooping around my house again?"

"I was putting away my gun and found them" he admitted. You ran your hands down your face, this man always had shitty excuses.

"So you read them?!" it felt like yelling at your parents all over again. Everything was going so well but it seemed to be a fight picked every week with him. A guilty expression took over his face which he deserved . "Okay that's what I thought now what do you want for dinner- actually you can eat whatever I make" you scoffed going to the kitchen.

Grabbing your cutting board along with some carrots your began cutting them up. Anger boiled in you. Now and days it seems can't respect you in any way, not even your own boyfriend. It was just a cycle everyday, a routine you followed just to wake up and repeat it again the next day.

Brushing off your thoughts you looked down to continue dinner. Just when you were about to be done you accidently sliced your finger open.

It wasn't the blood that scared you but you didn't feel it, at all. Usually you would winch but for some nothing was happening. Furrowing your eyebrows you grabbed a paper towel placing it over the wound. That was weird to say the least.

"Are you okay in there?" Spencer asked from the living room, he probably noticed the silence.

Shaking off the weird feeling you responded, "yeah just cut myself is all".

Why couldn't you feel it? You should've felt it. This doesn't make sense.


"I'm sorry it wasn't my business" Spencer whispered dropping his fork breaking the uncomfortable tension.

"It's okay. Well talk about this later." you smiled. 

The both of you finished dinner. You put on Netflix while Spencer offered to dishes. You couldn't stop thinking about your finger though.

Why couldn't you feel it?

-

A/n- Okay im almost at 800 reads whoop whoop I love yall! Also sorry for the short chapter I might post another one tonight to make up for it <333


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