Up in Flames | Spencer Reid x Reader |

Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Better Other Mother

Suppose you had everything in your life under control. You had a fine job. You could pay the bills. Your condo looked like the advertisements for interior designers. And you had a fairly decent sex drive.
But would the Heavens permit such happiness for too long?

The answer to that, my darling, would be no.

If there's one valuable lesson you've learned in life, it's that you should never hold onto your contentment for too long. Do not ever cherish it or obsess over it because God hates those who feel comfortable. He'll just strip it from you and laugh at your face for being a pretty little fool.

This entire monologue of how God is a dïck demonstrates your current situation in life.

You thought you did an excellent job with your encounter with Detective Belekzer, few days back. You told him off quite easily and the interrogation was simple and not as long as you imagined. When change of plans, sweetheart. At lunch the other day, Casha slipped you a slip under the table. You gave her a puzzled look, wondering why in the world she was getting into the grade fiver habit of passing notes. There was no need to be secretive.

You headed to the bathroom as she gestured you to and began to unravel the note. It said:

Everyone is suspicious around the office. Can't talk openly because they're eavesdropping. Belekzer has no more lead on the issue other than those who worked on the case. He came to my house and searched for the file. You're next. Watch your back.

You were crestfallen. Actually, you were more apprehensive now, too. You felt you had everything right but now, it felt like everything was spiraling out of control. See, it's not the actual file you're scared about being caught with. It's the reason why you had it. What was the connection between you and Hilgara Morrison? Did you alter evidence? Did you find something that you're not telling anyone?

That was the issue.

And knowing Belekzer, a nosey arrogant detective, things could really end up in a shïthole for you.

You flushed the note down the drain, feeling as though it were a bag of pills in a women's prison. You mustered and collected your thoughts, putting them into an orderly fashion as you were taught to do with every case. It was easier to find a solution and find the actual problem. But getting rid of the file and suspicion for good shouldn't be too hard considering you're specialized in forensic science.

And forensic science is how to get away with murder 101.

☣☣☣

It was a simple and orderly fashioned plan. Everything made logical sense— to you at least.

The day Casha gave you her note was the day you decided to hit the bar again and shït ašs drunk. You were disappointed in yourself, of course, since you did push aside your drinking habits for a while. The gin you were so wildly recognized for seemed more bitter and disgusting to you. But you got to do what you got to do. The reason for going back at it again was reasonable so that's how you convinced yourself that what you were doing was alright.

Anyways, through the process of returning to your unforgiving habit, you met Ryan Marvette. Compared to the people you usually slept with, he was actually a gentleman. Of course, he wasn't like Reid, but that was a different thought. Ryan was this tall Caucasian man who works as a maintenance officer for an exporting company. He's got a pair of baby blues and a full grown van dyke that seemed to make his face look longer.

He's a real sweetheart.

He even offered dinner.

But you suggested you jumped straight into the meat of the relationship.