𝐔𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬 | 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫 (2)

Chapter 14*

*this chapter features sexual content and mentions of suicide. Please do not read if you will find these things upsetting. If you'd like a chapter summary minus such topics let me know <3

I stared at the ceiling of the hotel room, trying and failing not to think about the case at hand. Garcia had confirmed that the call had not come from Matilda Matthew's phone. But, unfortunately, it had been a burner phone bought with cash in a store with fake CTV.

Mina Mathews was just eight-years-old. She had had her whole life ahead of her. How many birthday parties had she missed? How many sunsets and starry nights with first dates and first loves had she missed? Not that any of that mattered now because she was dead and would never be allowed to grow into the person that she was destined to be.

It was an ugly death, like Daniel's. There was no closure to be found in the way they left. There was no moving on and no healing. For me, suicide was the worst thing in the world. It was this devastating explosion of damage and pain that penetrated your heart and mind with that suffocating and lingering sadness. It was one of those things that made you say fuck you to people that insisted everything happened for a reason.

I had tiptoed down the hall to Hotch's room because I needed distracting but it was 11:32 pm and Hotch refused to come to bed. The ceiling was pale with yellow wallpaper that had already started to curl and fade. My eyes burned as I forced myself to focus on the ugly pattern which matched the questionable bedsheets gingerly draped around me. Hotch was at his desk, hunched over a stack of paperwork, as he scrawled furiously, his pen scratching obnoxiously against the paper. Each page he turned was accompanied by a burdened sigh. I knew today had got to him as much as it had to me. We just had very different ways of dealing with it: I simply thought a lot while Hotch threw himself headfirst into unnecessary work to stop himself thinking too much.

"What are you working on?" My voice attempted to adopt a conversational tone as I continued to stare unblinkingly at the ceiling.

"Mmh?"

When I repeated myself he muttered distractedly, "Oh just some admin. It'll be nice if I can get it done now. "

"So it's not for this case?" I sat up in bed, already frustrated with him.

He didn't look up from his paperwork, "No."

"Hotch —come to bed. You need a clear head tomorrow and the best thing we can do to catch this guy is to take care of ourselves."

"I can't sleep," he admitted.

"You haven't even tried," I observed but I knew exactly what he meant, "Just come here. Lie with me?"

"I need the distraction," he turned over the page rather aggressively.

"I won't be sleeping either if you keep turning the page that loudly," I remarked, but my mind was elsewhere envisioning a different kind of 'distraction'.

I left him to it, but not for very long. Without another word, I got out of bed, slipping on my slippers. As quietly as I could, I located my go-bag and rummaged around, my hands locating the silky fabric of my nighty which was definitely not designed for sleeping.

It was a satin pink, the top half fashioned into a corset which made my breasts look irresistible. It was also incredibly short, designed to tease whoever it was intended for. With my eyes trained on his back to make sure he wasn't going to turn around and sabotage the surprise, I changed as swiftly and as silently as I could. I struggled momentarily to zip myself up, having grown accustomed to Aaron's help. But I managed and, finally, I swapped my slippers for a black pair of stilettos. The height they gave me was instantly empowering —even if I did wobble slightly. It didn't matter though, I doubted I'd be wearing them for long.