𝐔𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫 (1)

seven

*This chapter briefly mentions rape. If that is something that will upset or trigger you, please do not read any further.

Also, it did include sex with Spencer but I was never happy with it and want to just include sex with Hotch from now on so wait 'till chapter nine for that!

...

It'd been a month since I'd asked Spencer on a date. Truthfully, I thought he'd forgotten or lost interest. He seemed content with our friendship which had progressed so much that I wasn't sure I wanted to jeopardise it. So, in the meantime, I had left things as they were. Part of me was relieved because one thing was for certain: I was not ready for a relationship.

But today, out of the blue, Spencer had asked me to coffee and I had accepted. I was meeting him outside his apartment and he was going to take me somewhere 'slightly mediocre but with a good spirit'. I told myself I wasn't nervous but the extra effort that had gone into my makeup and hair begged to differ. Even my nails were carefully manicured: painted my usual scandalous scarlet which I thought went nicely with my satin emerald blouse and tight black skirt.

There was only one problem so far and that was that I had failed to account for the weather. It was raining. Hard. I'd only been standing outside Spencer's building for a minute and already my shirt was so sodden that it clung to my skin. I rang Spencer and asked him to bring a spare coat and an umbrella.

"I've buzzed you in —meet me on my way down and get out of the rain!" He scolded, before promptly hanging up.

When he saw the sight of me he insisted I exchange my soaked shirt for a dry jumper of his. His Grandad-style sweater clashed with my striking outfit but it was warm and smelt like him. I always found it easy to talk to Spencer —it was what made him so attractive—  but now that we were on a 'date,' I found myself stumbling over my words. 

I tried to pull myself together as I took his arm and we began to walk to our destination, shielded by Spencer's trusty umbrella. The smell of rain and the soothing pitter-patter made me unbearably happy. Little things like that made it easier to ignore the shadow following my every step. I didn't want to think about unpleasant things when I was with him. Perhaps it was selfish, but I deserved a good day. And, by that logic, I was untouchable.

We came to an abrupt stop and, lost in thought, I stumbled slightly in surprise. Spencer smiled.

"We're here."

Whether it was a library-café or a café-library I couldn't decide but, from what I could see through the window, it was beautiful. Books lined every surface and deep green velvet armchairs beckoned to passers-by with promises of rest and comfort.

When we entered, Spencer left his umbrella outside. Save from an old man drinking coffee in the corner with a black cat curled up in his lap and a young couple whispering to each other by the fireplace, the café was quiet. It felt more like a home and I hesitated, wondering if I should take off my shoes.

Spencer guided me to a counter which he disappeared behind, "What would you like?"

"Surprise me," I grinned, surprised.

He selected the tallest of the glasses displayed on the top shelf amongst an array of strange shaped bowls and mugs. Seconds later, he located what I assumed was his usual mug and poured coffee for him and pink lemonade for me. Finally, after slotting a $20 bill into the tin on the counter, he took both drinks and we ventured the short distance to the armchair that was so big it served as a sofa. I sank into the velvet, relishing the feeling that was not unlike an embrace.

Afraid of the vulnerability that came with silence, I initiated the conversation, "Tell me about your parents."

I shuffled closer to him until our bodies were touching, separated by only a few layers of clothing.