𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗡 ━━ Spencer Reid

- Chapter Thirty-Two

Harper had spent most of the previous day getting Diana's room ready. Spencer had called to confirm that his mother would be staying at his apartment, his voice careful but tinged with something she couldn't quite place - relief, maybe, or anxiety. She'd wanted to make the space as welcoming as possible, even if she couldn't shake the unease that had settled in her chest since hearing that voicemail.

Now, as the front door opened and Spencer stepped inside, guiding Diana with a hand on her back, Harper stood from the couch, brushing her palms against her jeans. She forced a smile, though her pulse quickened when Spencer's eyes found hers.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment longer than usual, and she could tell he was trying to read her. "We're here."

"Hi, Diana," Harper said, stepping forward. "It's nice to see you again. Your room's all ready. I hope you'll be comfortable."

Diana offered a polite smile, her movements slow but deliberate as she took in the space. "Thank you. It's kind of you to prepare everything."

"I'll show her to the room," Spencer said, his hand brushing Diana's arm gently. "It's been a long day."

Harper nodded, stepping aside as they passed. She watched them disappear down the hallway, her hands twisting together. Her stomach churned with conflicting emotions - concern for Diana, frustration with Spencer, and an ache she couldn't quite name. She'd spent the last day convincing herself she could wait to confront him, but now, standing here, she wasn't so sure.

When Spencer returned, his steps were slower, almost hesitant. He stopped a few feet from her, his expression caught somewhere between exhaustion and concern.

"Thank you for setting everything up," he said. "I know it was a lot to ask on short notice."

"It's fine," Harper replied, her voice steady. "I'm glad she's safe."

Spencer's gaze softened, but it didn't erase the crease in his brow. He stepped closer, his hands brushing her arms before he leaned in to kiss her. The press of his lips against hers was warm but tentative, as if he were testing the waters. When he pulled back, his eyes searched hers.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

Harper's stomach twisted. She managed a small nod. "I'm fine. Really."

He hesitated, then leaned in to press a soft, nervous kiss to her cheek. His breath lingered there for a moment before he pulled back, his hand resting lightly on her arm.

"Okay," he said, though his tone carried doubt. "I'm going to get her some orange juice. She's probably thirsty after the drive."

"I'll help," Harper offered quickly, following him into the kitchen. She needed to be near him, to see if she could gather anything more from his actions.

Spencer moved with practiced efficiency, grabbing a glass and the orange juice from the fridge. Harper leaned against the counter, watching as he reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle of brown liquid. Her chest tightened as he uncapped it and poured a measured amount into the juice, swirling the glass to mix it.

"What is that?" she asked, keeping her tone light but curiosity seeping through.

Spencer glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "It's just medication to help her relax. Moving to a new place is stressful for her."

Harper nodded slowly, her journalistic instincts flaring. She knew better than to press too hard, too quickly. "That makes sense. It must be tough on both of you."