You are a young and educated fbi agent who worked as a profiler in new york for some odd years. it wasn't until a case that risked not only others lives, but your own as well, causing your transfer to the quantico branch. your world takes a turn whe...
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It was about 2 in the morning and you were lying on your back on your bed. You stared up at the ceiling, an empty pill bottle in your right hand. You looked at it, and let it roll out of your hand, onto the floor.
You closed your eyes, drifting asleep.
You had fallen asleep for a few minutes before you heard a loud knock on your front door, making you jolt up quickly.
You winced, your head pounding. You had taken a few more pills than you usually took, and you weren't sure if something bad was going to happen or not.
You just reached for your weapon that sat on your nightstand and slowly got out of bed, sliding your slippers on and walking towards the door.
Your hands shook and your heart started to beat fast.
You flinched when you heard another loud knock, looking in the peephole to see who it was.
You furrowed your eyebrows when you saw a rough looking Spencer standing outside your door.
You instantly unlocked the door and opened it, looking at the male with a confused and annoyed expression.
"What the hell are you doing here so late, Reid?" You questioned, he pushed past you into your apartment and you just turned and closed the door.
"Sure, come in." You switched the safety on your gun and set it down.
"I could've shot you, you know." You spoke, shaking your head and turning on the light.
When Spencer turned around to face you, you saw that he had dark circles under his eyes. His hair was messy and his eyes were puffy and red. You narrowed your eyes at him, curious as to what was the matter with him.
Before you could open your mouth to speak, Spencer beat you to it.
"Did I do something wrong? Did I say something?" He asked, running a hand through his hair, messing it up more.
"What? What do you mean?" You rose an eyebrow.
"You've been avoiding me, you stopped sitting by me, talking to me, hell, even looking at me. I must've done something wrong to deserve that right?" He replied, his tone weak.
You clenched your jaw, avoiding his gaze.
He continued to ramble, asking questions upon questions.
