"How many existentialists does it take to screw a lightbulb?" Spencer asked with a small laugh. Once again the room was silent. You faintly heard Agent Rossi mutter, "Don't." "2. One to change the light bulb and one to observe how it symbolizes an incandescent beacon of subjectivity in a netherworld of cosmic nothingness," he said. The room was silent still, until you laughed. His eyes looked up at yours in confusion. "Wouldn't they sit in the dark and hope that the bulb decided to light again? An existentialist would never change the bulb. He would allow the darkness to exist," you questioned. - #1 #spencerreid #1 #mgg #1 emilyprentiss

Spencer wraps the blanket tighter around us causing me to melt into him further. He sweeps my wet hair over my shoulder while I stare out towards the golden sunset. He plants a kiss on my temple before nuzzling his face into my neck. "Thank you," He whispers. I run my fingers through his soft curls, "For what?" "For showing me life doesn't always have to be so serious," He sighs. "I don't know what I did before you," He mutters, almost like it wasn't for me to hear.

The pad of Derek's thumb slowly slides across my kiss swollen bottom lip while his dark eyes trace the movement intently. I guess I'm going to have to be the one to say what we're both thinking. "That wasn't very just friends of us."