𝓬𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 .ᐟ

03. shared apartment

— Why does everyone laugh when I say that? —He said it with incredibility and not humorously.

Spencer was now leaning back a bit on the furniture, so he could be as placid as possible about his injury.

The young doctor read to Maeve that book that they both knew, but it was not quoted verbatim but rather narrated with Spencer's own words, being interrupted by his own comments, observations, or any curious data that he has collected with the pass of the time.

At some point they both got hungry so deciding to share a pizza, Maeve found herself on the carpeted floor, crossing both legs laughing, listening to Spencer speak.

— How not to laugh at something like that, Reid?

The chestnut told how he celebrated his birthday in his college days. He didn't have as many friends as he does now, but he remembered going out with a couple of friends. Spencer's birthday was the perfect excuse for dressing up.

— I don't see how Albert Einstein is funny.

— You did it for three years straight! — Maeve burst out laughing.

— You have never dressed up as someone? — Spencer tried to defend himself.

Maeve was always dressed up.

— Once. — She admitted and she can almost hear spencer saying i know it.— I dressed up as Mulan.

Spencer wasn't going to laugh at it, but he was clenching his mouth like it was going to betray him.

— I was three years old when I did that, huh! Laugh all you like Reid.

— I'm not laughing, Mulan is a very strong woman.

— She saved china.— They both chuckled at the remark.

— She saved china.—Spencer agreed.

— And I shot you. We are not the same. — The boy pursed his lips, as if trying to explain that it's not her fault.

— It was an accident.

— Do you think so?

— Why would you shoot me on purpose?

— Have you ever heard of people doing things they can't remember?

—  Dissociative amnesia?

— No, I'm talking more about releasing your guilty conscience and pretending that someone else has done it... when you try to be the one who solves the problem looking for the culprit and it turns out to be the villain of the story of which you thought you were the hero.

— Fight Club?— Spencer asks, linking the syndrome to that title because of its description. To which Maeve nods.— Maeve, this is not a David Fincher film.

— I know that, or Brad Pitt would already be walking through that door.

Three knocks on the door of Spencer's apartment.

— Coming.

Maeve starts to speak when she sees Spencer standing up.

Morgan's smile faded when he saw the chocolate-colored hair answering the door.

— You're not Reid.

— And you're not Brad Pitt.

— I'm better than him, sweetheart.