❝ EXCUSE ME, I HAVE TO GO KILL SOMEONE. ❞
❝ I REALLY HOPE SHE'S TALKING FIGURATIVELY. ❞
( BOOK TWO of FIGHT OR FLIGHT )
Scout Wiley was once in love with the abyss. It was her mistake for getting too comfortable. She knew she shouldn't have lie...
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8th of October NCAVC Quantico, Virginia
SCOUT LAID WITH her head pressed against the coolness of the metal table. Her head was throbbing, stomach growling at the lack of edible food. But she had to push through.
It would only be a matter of time before -
The door to the interrogation room swung open before it was slammed shut with a bang. Scout resisted the urge to flinch and look up at who had come in when, in all honesty, she already knew who it was.
She kept her head down, her hair covering her face like a curtain as the sudden screech of the chair in front of her moved. And then, it was silent again.
The feeling of being watched by familiar hazel eyes, the same eyes that her daughter shared, was practically burning through her skin. She had spent nights laying awake, wondering how this situation would pan out.
All of those nights ended with Scout falling asleep with tear stained cheeks and her body passing out from exhaustion and anxiety.
"And now it's Doctor Spencer Reid's turn to ask some questions, huh?" The brunette mumbled, still keeping her head down.
"How'd you know it was me?"
"There's a scent given off by wounded, feral cats. It's rather pungent, you know."
A fist came down on the table, creating a loud thump that Scout couldn't help but react to. Slowly but surely, she lifted her head up, mentally trying to keep herself together and not fall apart. She leaned back into the chair once more, lifting a leg up and slouching down. Looking indifferent would only anger him further, but she couldn't help it.
Her dark brown eyes collided with his hazel, an action that hadn't occurred for thirteen years.
"I miss the boy band hair. But I guess this long, sexy professor hair is second best." She said with a smirk, eyeing him up and down.
Spencer Reid had certainly changed throughout the time they had been apart. Although his physique had stayed the same, everything else was unfamiliar to her. His brown wavy locks were longer and unkempt, and could almost give Einstein a run for his money. The bags under his eyes had sullen in even further, creating deep crater-like crevasses in purple tones of skin. She never thought he could look any more tired before, but she was clearly proven wrong.
His gaze hardened, "I'm not going to play games with you, Wiley."
"And why not? I thought you liked it when I played games with you. If I can recall, you practically begged me sometimes."
