Echos of a Genius | Spencer Reid

Austin

Stephie

It's one of those chilly fall days in D.C. where the wind bites just enough to make you pull your coat tighter around you, but the sun still manages to peek through the clouds, offering a fleeting warmth. I'm sitting at a small corner table in my favorite café, a steaming cup of coffee in front of me, and a case file I've been trying to focus on for the past hour. The smell of fresh pastries and brewing coffee surrounds me, and there's a comfortable hum of conversation filling the room.

But even with all these comforts, I can't shake the tension that's been knotting in my shoulders since this morning. I've been trying to distract myself with work, but my mind keeps wandering back to Spencer. Our last conversation didn't end well, and the distance between us seems to grow with each passing day.

I sigh, flipping a page in the file but not really reading it. The words blur together, and I'm about to give up when the door opens with a loud jingle of the bell. Out of habit, I glance up, and that's when I see him.

He's tall, with a mop of dark hair that looks like it could use a trim, and he's wearing a leather jacket that's a little too worn. There's something about him that catches my attention right away. Maybe it's the way he hesitates at the door, as if deciding whether to stay or go. Or maybe it's the way his eyes sweep over the room, lingering on each person just a moment longer than necessary, as if he's sizing them up.

Whatever it is, it makes me curious.

He finally steps inside, letting the door swing shut behind him, and makes his way to the counter. I watch as he orders something, his voice too low for me to hear, and then he turns, scanning the room again. This time, his eyes land on me.

For a split second, I think about looking away, pretending I wasn't staring, but something holds me in place. He smiles, just a small one, but it's enough to make me realize I'm holding my breath. Then, before I can react, he's walking over to my table.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asks, his voice smooth and confident, but with an undercurrent of something more—something that feels familiar.

I glance around, noticing for the first time that the café has filled up since I sat down. Almost all the other tables are taken, and the only empty chair in sight is the one across from me. I should say no. I came here to be alone, to clear my head. But instead, I find myself nodding.

"Sure."

He sets his coffee down and slides into the chair, his movements easy and relaxed, like he's done this a thousand times before. For a moment, we just sit there, the silence between us surprisingly comfortable. I take a sip of my coffee, glancing at him over the rim of my cup.

"Rough day?" he asks, nodding toward the case file on the table.

I shrug, a little taken aback by his directness but not in a bad way. "You could say that."

He studies me for a moment, those sharp eyes of his taking in more than I'm probably comfortable with. But instead of pressing, he just smiles again, that same small smile that somehow manages to feel genuine.

"Yeah, I know the feeling. Sometimes it's like the world just won't give you a break."

I nod, more to myself than to him. "Exactly."

There's another pause, but it doesn't feel awkward. If anything, it feels like we're two people who've known each other for years, even though we've only just met.

"I'm Austin, by the way," he says, finally breaking the silence.

"Stepheni," I reply, offering a small smile of my own.