Spencer Reid | Oneshots

Forbidden Fruit 💔 (M)

Summary: When Professor Reid falls in love with a student, he learns why Adam choked on the Forbidden Fruit.

Rating: M (16+)

Content Warning: Unhappy ending, pining, age difference, professor/student, vague allusions to sex/motherhood, unrequited love

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There are many theories about where the Garden of Eden was located, assuming that it actually existed in this realm at all. My logical mind told me that it was most likely located in what we now call the Middle East based on several indicators in both the Biblical and Quranic narrative.

However, as I stood at the front of my classroom, staring down at a girl with an extended hand and a smile that rivaled the sun, I felt strongly that I had located the garden in the middle of Washington, DC.

I could lie and say there was nothing special about her, but it would be a disservice. The truth was that every aspect of her was special. She was unique in both her simplicity and complexity. It was the way she smiled without ever losing the depths hidden in her eyes. I didn't fall in love with her at first sight because I don't believe such a thing exists. Instead, I fell for her slowly, cautiously, and with full resistance to the idea.

I didn't want to fall in love with her. I shouldn't have fallen in love with her.

But I did.

There are many theories about what the forbidden fruit was, assuming that it is something we would be able to recognize. As a researcher and scientist, I've always found vague historical references to be thrilling. After all, the answer is in the past, and we'll likely never know for certain.

But if I can't know the truth, how could I compare it to her? As the days went on, the urge to deify her grew stronger. I couldn't tell if the way lights haloed around her was a delusion or exhaustion or just plain love, but I couldn't look away. Each time she approached me, my mind latched on to a theory of the forbidden fruit. Whether they were cautionary reminders or twisted expressions of an unhealthy obsession with a girl who would certainly never feel the same, I indulged in those theories.

Here is what I found.

Apple:

There is no theory more iconic than that of the apple plucked from the tree. It's so entwined in our understanding of the world and human nature that we named a piece of our anatomy after it.

The Adam's Apple, they say, was created by man's indulgence in the forbidden fruit. His body had simply rejected what it was never meant to have, lodging in his throat and choking him for the rest of his days.

I often felt like that when she was around; like I was suffocating and choking on things left unsaid. Some days I swore one wrong move would dislodge the reminder from my throat, leaving me spilling my heart out to someone who didn't have the capability nor willingness to give it back.

An apple seemed a fitting fruit for her, considering the multitudes of nuances in flavor and color. Complex was a good way to describe her. But still, it was difficult to imagine a world where she could ever be sour.

Banana:

Because she was sweet. The smell of her perfume stuck to the roof of my mouth, the residue on the sides of my lips caramelizing as my whole face burned from my thoughts of her.

She was bright and soft and a symbol for better days. The curve of the fruit reminded me of the one often found on her lips. I couldn't decide, though, if she reminded me of the banana because she shared the color with the tropical sun needed for it to thrive.