Jouska (18+) [Aaron Hotchner x Reader]

Chapter 3

"The rest is just wishes and hope, the most fragile of things." - Sabaa Tahir

———

You strain while you bring the last of the boxes in, Hotch taking it from you as you walk in the door. It was now day 7 of what you thought would be a one, maybe two day task at most.

The Virginia rain, apartment clean up and an excess of boxes had meant for a week of non-stop work and your body was begging for respite. You follow Hotch into the spare room where he sets down the box, the room almost full.

He's more laid back today, suit blazer and tie removed, strewn around haphazardly, his sleeves rolled up. You couldn't help but take in the sight of his back as he had carried the box in, his forearms strong. You feel yourself flushing and snap out of it quickly, remembering you have work to do.

You take a scan of the room and curse as you realise you forgot the cutlery box, turning to go back outside and retrieve it. Hotch turns around in surprise.

"What is it?" He asks, a little breathless. He brings his forearm up to wipe the sweat off his brow, and you find yourself getting caught up again.

Damn it.

"Oh it's nothing, I think I left a box in your car. I'll go down and grab it real quick." You tell him. He offers to go but you tell him you could use his help moving the boxes that are already here.

The skies are grey and overcast as you step out into the foyer, and as you get closer you can hear the rain pelting the window, getting louder and heavier. You swear under your breath and run to the car, the rain hitting your skin like relentless little bullets, soaking you through.

As you duck your head into the trunk to retrieve the last box, you feel a chilling sensation down your back, your body shooting up and looking around.

You feel acutely aware of somebody's eyes on you but the street is next to empty, almost eerily so, everybody retreating indoors to escape the miserable weather. Your hair stands on end and your skin erupts in goosebumps, only partly due to the cold weather, as you look around wide eyed, and unsettled trying to scan the street.

"What? Are you taking a shower down there?" You hear from above you and you look up to see Hotch's head and shoulders hanging from the window.

"Yeah, I'll be right up." You say absent-mindedly, a pit in your stomach. You shake it off, thinking it's probably just paranoia and hunger and work your way back inside. Once safely inside, you take a cursory look back one more time.

"Stop it, you're fine." You mutter under your breath to yourself.

You're still in your head when the elevator doors open and you crash face first into a hard chest, the now soggy cardboard slightly squished against you and the person you're pressed up against.

"Easy! Easy." The familiar voice laughs as he steadies you. He takes the box from you and starts to walk back down the hall in front of you. "You seriously didn't see me coming?"

You follow behind him in your wet boots, trying not to slip, letting out an unamused laugh. You still feel deeply unsettled, only letting out a sigh of relief once you're finally home, door locked behind you.

See here's the thing about having a long-term stalker. You may not know who, what, why or how - but when someone's watching.

Deep down.

You know.

"Hey, you okay?" Hotch asks, his voice soft as he tracks your movements with his eyes.