How Dare You [ReidxReader] - 2nd Edition

(18) Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity

"Want me?" You're unable to cope with the sensation of having Spencer touch you like this. "What do you mean?"

His eyes dart over your face and his thumb brushes over your cheekbone.

"Can't you see?" He whispers.

You tear up. So no, you can't see anything. Overwhelmed, you take a step back. Spencer's hands glide off your face. You look at the floor and shake your head. You clear your voice: "You should leave."

You hear Spencer let out a staggered breath. It causes guilt to settle in your stomach.

"Why?" He speaks up.

Your head shoots up: "Because you don't mean it! You're just feeling bad. I'm your friend, and it should stay that way."

His face contorts as if you just stabbed him. You want to throw up.

"Look me in the eyes." He demands. You blink to clear your sight and do. "Tell me," you never heard him use this kind of tone with you, "why can't you be honest with me?"

"I am!" You insist.

Spencer tilts his head, hoping you would correct yourself. When you don't, his eyes get sad. It makes you hate yourself even more. He does not deserve that. But he also does not deserve to be stuck with you. Panic arises in your chest. You don't know how to solve this. Every option appears awful.

He says your name, fondly, but then states with a stern voice: "You know, I am scared as well. Have you any idea how much courage it took me to say this?"

"I'm sorry." You apologize once more.

He sighs, defeated.

There is a knock on the door. It rips you out of your spiral. Quickly wiping your eyes dry, you open it. Faking a smile for the delivery guy, you take the coffee from him.

Chest feeling like it's filled with cement, you hold one of the cups out towards Spencer. He takes it, slowly and quietly. Then he sits down on the edge of the bed, fumbling with the lid.

Your legs wobbly, you walk over and sit next to him.

No matter how badly you want to rip your heart out and throw it out the window, so you don't have to feel any of this, you even more want to keep it to drown in exactly those feelings.

"I think I was always doomed. Getting away just delayed it. Now I'm here, once more my lungs filled with nothing but dread."

You're just as surprised as Spencer by that confession. It came from a corner deeply hidden in your heart.

You take a sip from your coffee, not knowing what else to do.

"But you're free now." Before you can protest, Spencer goes on. "I know what PTSD looks like. It will pass."

"That's not how it feels." Your throat is tight.

"I don't want to make this about what you have to fight daily." He stops the conversation from going in that direction. "Can't you see?" He circles back instead.

It gives you the will to turn towards him.

"I still don't know what you're talking about."

The faintest smile tugs on the corners of Spencer's lips. "I think you do."

Very suddenly, the dark fog that always follows you around dissipates.

You lean closer to Spencer: "I have no idea, please expl-"

His lips smother the rest of the word.

They merge perfectly with yours. His hand flies up to your face. He clasps it and holds you close. You both let out a sigh. Your heart gallops - sprints, almost. Spencer tastes so good. He tastes like the sweetest medicine, with a pleasantly bitter aftertaste. The kind that gives you goosebumps and makes you want to take more.