How Dare You [ReidxReader] - 2nd Edition

(2) Old and new scars

TW: description of blood/bleeding.

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You wake up with a terrible headache. Your temples feel like heavy weights are sitting on the. The alarm makes it worse with its relentless ringing and you get out of bed, groaning, to turn it off.

In the bathroom, you splash cold water in your face, but your head still feels heavy. It was a bad night. You had a lot of the vivid nightmares one gets when they are not really asleep but also not fully conscious. They are way scarier than others because it's more difficult to distinguish them from actual memories.

At some point, you gave in and took a sleeping pill. Apparently, it was too late at night, because now you could hardly see straight. Additionally, the laceration on your forehead isn't completely healed yet.

Slowly, you get in the shower and try to rinse off the terrible feeling the night left you with. The hair at the back of your neck grew longer than you like it. You pin the rest of your hair up and get a razor to cut it short. It's not a perfect undercut, but it's fine. Concentrating on shaving your hair halfway decent is calming. You only break your focus to down a bottle of water and then finish the cut. Ruffling through your hair, you try to make it look like you didn't just cut it before work after you barely slept.

Then you put on black eyeliner, mascara, and some concealer to hide how bad your night was. You put on the jewelry that lays on your nightstand, including rings and ear cuffs. As long as you're not in the field it should be alright to wear them. You holster your gun and put your FBI jacket on over your hoodie. Every piece you put on your body is like part of armor to you and when you leave your apartment, you feel (almost) invincible.

With your keys in one hand and your go-bag in the other, you jog to your car. Whereas most Agents drive SUVs even outside of work, you prefer your black Dodger. You speed off to get coffee before driving to the Bureau. Somehow, spending about seven dollars on coffee in the morning became a reason to even get up. It just hits different.

You get in line and sigh when you see who is in front of you: Reid.

You don't know if you should try to ignore him and pretend you didn't notice or walk over to greet him. If he didn't have this shitty attitude towards you, you would probably actually like him. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he is still in a bad place because of Prentiss' death. That's no excuse to lash out at you like that but hey.

You skip the people in front of you and step next to Reid just when he is about to order. He notices you and hesitates. The cashier clears her voice, and he turns away to order. You tell her: "Same for me." Then you pay for both your coffees. Reid doesn't thank you or say anything about you suddenly appearing next to him. The both of you stand in silence while waiting for your order. You put your hands in the back pockets of your jeans and let your eyes wander over the menu written on the wall just to have something to do. Finally, your name gets called out. Reid is quick to grab one of the cups and walk out before you.

Outside the café, you ask: "Do you live nearby?"

For the first time since you met, he properly looks into your eyes: "Yes."

You like his eyes. They are kind but in their depth sadness lingers.

"How do you get to the office?" You keep staring at his face. His features soften slightly. His lips part and the muscles of his jaw visibly relax. The frown on his forehead disappears for a moment.

It's back when he tells you: "I walk or take the metro."

Out of an impulse you gesture towards your car and offer: "Can I give you a lift?" There is conflict in his eyes. He hesitates. "I understand if you would rather like to walk." You add, unlocking your car and getting in.