New Glow - Spencer Reid x Reader

Can't Explain It From the Start

Spencer is leaning over you still, your breaths mingling in the air between you, when what must be his phone starts ringing—it’s too shrill to be your own. The mood breaks instantly, and you let go of him so he can step away to answer it. You relax against the wall and turn your focus off of him to give him a little privacy. You are watching as he huffs out a breath before he flips it open—he seems a little annoyed, which is bolstering in its own way—but then you try to ignore him. It’s only polite, after all. 

“Yeah?” you hear him say, and then there’s a pause as he must be listening to the other end. “Okay. I’ll catch a ride back in a cab, you guys go on ahead of me.” There’s the sound that must be him shutting his phone, and then he steps back into your line of sight. “Um…”

“You’ve gotta go, huh?” you ask, trying to put on a smile. You’re undeniably a little sad about it—you’d really enjoyed kissing him, and it had a lot of potential to go, well, places.

“Yeah, uh. A case just came in, it’s apparently very urgent. But it’s dark out, and I wouldn’t feel right letting you head anywhere alone, even here in Quantico.”

“I appreciate that. And hey, you’re calling a cab either way, right? Will you walk me to the diner up the street? I don’t really feel like going back to the club. I know that’s a lot to ask, but—“ 

“That’s fine. I’ll just have the cab meet us there. What’s the name of diner?” You tell him, and after a few moments and another phone call, you’re on your way down the sidewalk together. 

There’s silence between you, and you feel more than a little tense. You’re not really sure what to say, you’ve never had a night—evolve, devolve, whichever—this way before. “So, um,” you eventually start, just because the silence is killing you, but you still don’t have anything to say.

“I had a good time,” he offers, and when he looks over at you the expression on his face is genuine. The easy slope of his shoulders and arms and the way his hands are in his pockets makes him look even younger than he already does. 

“Did you really?” You can’t help but laugh, surprised.

“Yeah, yeah, I did.”

“Well, I had a good time, too.” The diner is coming into view; the harsh neon lights that mark the business are almost too bright to look at. There’s a cab idling in one of the parking spaces, up near the door. “Look, I-I really did enjoy this. And I know all of this,” you gesture between you and at the night in general, “evidently isn’t your normal cup of tea, but if you wanted to do it again sometime… I’m more than okay with that. You’re too cute to pass up, doctor.”

It could just be the glow from the signs at the restaurant, but you’re pretty sure he’s blushing. He opens his mouth to stammer, but you can’t bring yourself to let him do it. The way he’s nodding his head is enough of a yes anyway.

You catch him by the elbow, just a handful of paces from the cab, and he doesn’t resist you stopping him. “Call me whenever, if you want.” You keep a couple of business cards, along with your cell and a stumpy pen, in a tiny pocket sewn into your dress, and you dig one out to write your address and cell number on the back. 

Feeling confident, you tuck it into his hand, and you can’t resist leaning in for a final kiss when he looks back up at you. You’d keep him here all night given the opportunity.

The cab honks, though, about the time you’re pulling away from him, and he jerks like he’s been shocked. “I, uh, I need to go,” he says, and he bolts to the car with his hand on his mouth. 

You really do hope he calls you when he gets a chance, that he remains interested tomorrow or even in the light of day. If he doesn’t, you’ll find a way to deal—there are plenty of handsome young men in the world. But you’d be kicking yourself if you let a man that delectable get away without trying to draw him in.