DISTRACTION | Spencer Reid Fanfic

19

I piled into my apartment suddenly aware of the clutter around the place. I got to work as fast as I could.

That's how she found me in a mess.

I was flustered when I let her in, rushing back to the other side of the kitchen to save my stove.

She hesitantly scanned the room, dropping her coat on the couch. "Are you okay? Do you need help?"

"I'm fine," But the helplessness was evident in my voice.

"I really don't mind." She began twisting her hair into a bun and securing it with a hair tie that she had on her wrist. "Shall I chop the garlic for you." She looked down at my attempt at mincing garlic.

"Sure."

She picked up the knife and began fixing my mess.

"Shit," the pasta water began pouring out of the pan, spitting on to my skin. I yelped back knocking Y/n.

Everything moved in slow. Y/n gasp as the blade of the knife nicked her thumb.

I saw a small dot of red began pooling. "Oh shit." I quickly turned off the chaos. I took her hand in mine. "Oh god. Wait... hold it up. That's what people do right to slow the bleeding. What have I done? I was just trying to do something nice but I always just seem to mess it up more..."

"Spencer," she inhaled. "Breath. It's okay. It's not your fault."

Her reassurance didn't help. Not with the blood that had started dripping from her thumb. "Here. Sit up here." I cleared the counter space and helped her up. "I have a first aid kit here somewhere." I reached under into the cupboard under the sink, pulling out the box. I rifled through it not finding what I wanted.

I looked up and saw Y/n inspecting her finger. She winced as she squeezed it. An involuntary tear trickled down her cheek.

"Hey," I wiped her cheek.

"What?"

"What?" I chuckled. "You're crying. It hurts, doesn't it?"

"Oh," She felt the stream on her cheek. "Yeah. It hurts."

"Let me see." I held her hand in mine. I was wincing more than she was. I found an alcohol wipe, wiping the streaks of red that trickled down her thumb and into her palm. She was scarily still. I looked up from my hand at her. She was watching me closely. "What?"

"Nothing."

I looked down at her hand again, a swell of red seeping out again. I brought her thumb to my lips. She looked at me queryingly. But when I wrapped my lips around her thumb her body was numb.

She was speechless.

I went back to silently cleaning her wound and bandaging it up. "All done," I mumbled, cherishing the time touching her hand.

"Thanks," she whispered back.

She brought her healthy hand to my cheek, brushing back the curls that flopped onto my face. Her chin tilted gently capturing my lips, slowly meshing with them. I was hungry for it, but she was deliberately restrained. She set the pace. Slowly inhaling in my breath. Periodically pausing, pressing her nose to mine, forehead to mine then lips to mine. I pushed her leg apart sliding in between the gap. She didn't stop me. But she also didn't let my feverishness dominate, letting her tongue slip gradually along my lips into my mouth but pulling back quickly. I pressed my hands firmly into her lower back, pulling her as close to me as humanely possible.

We could have kept going all night. But soon Y/n's stomach growled.

She laughed into my lips. "Sorry."