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｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆LILAC EVANS
SPENCER REID'S FACE MAKES me just...wow. He was so so incredibly handsome, and the fact he didn't know he was made him ten times more attractive.
I knew I was flirting with him, and I knew he liked it, telling by the quick blushes and the way he sheepishly purses his lips together, fiddling with his fingers awkwardly. It was almost a little funny to watch, but I adored it more than anything else.
He was just so cute.
I already knew my type was changing. Before Spencer Reid snuck into my frontal lobe, my type was shitty, unfaithful, cocky sons of bitches. Spencer was everything my exes weren't, and I began to wonder if I had been missing out and going for the wrong guys this entire time.
To be honest, I was a bully in high school. I picked on the weird kids, picked on my friends, even—but only because they picked on me. Popularity was just...awful. It was full of jealousy and competition, and the fact that it followed me to college was horrible.
Moving to Georgetown was beginning to feel like one of my better decisions. It was like a clean slate—no more mean me, no more bitchy girls, no more cheating boyfriends. I could choose wisely, and it was a literal blessing.
Because right now, I was choosing my college professor. Sick!
He was definitely my type now, and I finally decided on it. Dorky, shy, skinny, curly-haired boys. No doubt about it—I liked them. Or maybe I just liked Spencer.
I really didn't know when these feelings came at me full force, but I wasn't necessarily complaining about it. I was never one to force feelings away—I always got, or tried to get what I knew I wanted. If it felt right, I'd do it. Even if he was my professor.
I mean, after school ends it'd be okay to date him, right?
I'm thinking way too far ahead. It had just dawned on me that I barely know anything about the man, except for the fact that he had a remarkably pretty face. We haven't touched at all, I don't know what he smells like (now I want to, though), and sometimes we fall into these painfully awkward moments where neither of us had anything to say.
Like this one, right now. After Spencer sadly stopped getting all squirmy and blush-y over me telling him I was looking at him, his gaze averted to the window, peacefully watching people watch past. I was fascinated by how his lips parted, letting his tongue poke out from the very corner of his mouth, licking something off his lips that wasn't even there. I loved his small nose—it was soooo attractive. His side profile gave me a view of the small ridges on the slope of his nose, and it was oddly charming.
And his jaw. My god. It was beautiful. His face structure was just beautiful.
I was still breathless when Spencer turned back to me, peering me through the long set of eyelashes he had. "Hi." Was the only thing I could come up with, and then he smirked a little. Smirked.
