How Dare You [ReidxReader] - 2nd Edition

(8) Reidevaluation

It's early when you trudge into the kitchen to make some coffee. Nevertheless, you find Spencer on the couch, awake, reading a book.

His eyes light up and he puts the book down when he sees you.

"Morning." You mumble as you get the milk out of the fridge. "You want one as well?" You point at the coffee maker.

"Yes, please. I didn't want to wake you up by using it." He tells you and gets two mugs from the shelf.

"How long have you been awake then?"

"Maybe an hour."

You just hum in acknowledgement and put your hair up with the scrunchy you have around your wrist.

"Are you hungover?" He suddenly asks.

You look at him and furrow your eyebrows. It takes a moment for you to remember that you had something to drink last night.

"No." You smile. "I often just sleep very tensed up and my muscles hurt in the morning."

"Oh." Spencer looks at his hands. You follow his gaze to realize that he is not wearing his cords but just his boxers. Absentmindedly, you rub your hand over your thigh as like a substitute for touching his.

You got weirdly comfortable with being so close to each other while having little clothing on. The last time you felt like this with someone must be a long time ago. If you ever did.

Leaning against the counter, you silently drink your coffee, not talking. You simply listen to Spencer gulping down the hot liquid. Slowly, you feel your body relax. However, your shoulders still hurt.

You put the empty mug down and get down on the rug in the living room.

"What were you reading?" You ask while you start to stretch your arms. It hurts, but you try to breathe through it and listen to Spencer's reply. Who starts to tell you about another Tolkien book before interrupting himself and questioning: "What are you doing?"

You untangle yourself and sit up straight: "Loosening up."

"It looks like it hurts."

You chuckle: "It does, but it will get only worse throughout the day if I do not do it now."

"Oh." He puts his mug down and stands behind the sofa, appearing somewhat lost. "Can I...help you?"

You consider it, but for some reason imagining him touching you freaks you out. It feels too intimate.

"Just talk to me." You tell him and go back at it.

"Do you do this every day?"

"I do it as often as I can bear it." You breathe out while pressing your forehead against your stretched legs.

Apparently, this is all he can think off, because now he just quietly watches you. It makes you nervous, but you close your eyes and do your best at pretending that he is not there. When your arms burn and you keep tearing up from the pain, you stop.

Shaking your limps out, you wipe your face.

Spencer finds his voice again and proposes: "Can I take you out for breakfast?"

You agree and borrow him a sweater. But in the car, you tell him: "I appreciate you inviting me for breakfast, but you don't need to feel like you have to pay me back."

He looks at you for a moment: "Do you think I spend time with you because I feel obligated to?"

"Oh." Was that what you were thinking? When you don't add anything else, he says: "Actually, I enjoy being with you."