This Love: Spencer Reid

right time

2 months before you kissed me in an ambulance

a year and 4 days since the last conversation i would ever have with you ended.

july 20th.

dear spence,

it sounds cliche.

but some things are just perfect like that

so good that it doesn't seem real

so real that you worry your friends will think your lying when you tell them about it.

but,

there were no seats on the jet

besides the one next to me.

so you took that seat and turned to me, flashing me one of those smiles you did where your lips pulled into each other as you fumbled with your messenger bag.

i would never get a chance to tell you, but those were my favorite smiles of yours.

that was one of many things that would haunt me when you left. the way i hesitated to tell you everything i loved about you, assuming you already knew. but maybe you didn't.
maybe i let you die without you knowing that your smile made sparks fly.

i set down my book and smiled back at you.

"fran, want a pistachio?" you asked, holding a bag out in my general direction.

i appreciated the use of my nickname. you could have said "franny" but you didn't. it made me feel warm, like this wasn't one of the first one-on-one interactions we had ever had with each other. i noticed that you had the effect on people. you were awkward, sure, but you had a way of welcoming everyone and making sure people felt comfortable.

i grinned, because who does that? who offers their coworker a pepper and pumpkin flavored pistachio on a jet to solve a mass murder case? besides you, of course.

i took one and laughed.

"what?" you asked with a mock frown and an adorable head tilt, questioning my giggles as you broke open a pistachio shell with your fingers. i shook my head in attempt to hide my reddened face. "you're adorable." i said when i finished laughing. i turned to you and made eye contact.

and you were. with your long thin hair, your mismatch socks, your entirely geeky grin and your sweet eyes.

you were blushing.

wait.

you were blushing???

"thank you." you said in more of a muffled laugh then anything else.

a few moments went by as the jet took off. my eyes fluttered closed as i felt the cabin ascending, when i opened them a couple of seconds later, you were looking at me. staring at me.

you gestured to my book, the lost world by arthur conan doyle with a smile.

"that's one of my favorites."

i swear i can hear the smirk in your voice.

my mouth opened wide in surprise. "really? me too! i've already read it a few times, but i decided to reread it."

you gave me a toothy lopsided grin. "i believe that every time you reread a book you pick up a new detail that you didn't get the first time. i reread the valley of fear sixteen times over one weekend, every time it got a little better."  you popped another pistachio into your mouth.

i nodded.

"exactly!" i said a little too loudly, causing derek to turn around and laugh. he glanced at you, your body turned to me, our knees practically touching and wiggled his eyebrows in probably the most unsubtle way i had ever seen.

i would miss that feeling later. the childish red handed crush feeling of getting "caught" having a conversation with you. the red cheeks and the girlish giggles that would follow. i'd miss your head shaking and the unconvincing "ew no way!"s. i'd miss the knowing glances our coworkers exchanged while we talked, never believing the "just friends" act.
but most of all,
i'd miss you.

you outstretched your hand and held out an earbud. i accepted with curiosity, like a child opening a christmas present and put it into my ear.

beethoven.

you were incredible.

i think that's when you decided you would sit next to me more often on the jet,
get to know me.

and the thing is, i never sought out for love. that wasn't who i was. and it isn't who i am. if something happens, it happens but the idea of wearing myself out just to be confronted with disappointment is not the kinda thing i'm in too. i just happened to find it, going about my everyday life on a jet to try and stop a serial killer.

"We can't command our love, but we can our actions." - arthur conan doyle

- always yours, fran