Yes, sorry for holding out on you guys! I have a wife. Her name is Maya. I’m not gonna share too many personal details about her, but she’s been part of the BAU for the past couple years. We met way before she joined however; considering we both went to MIT. As you can expect, I didn’t talk to her, at least not for the first couple months of admiring her. She was always talking, I noticed, sourriunded hy people, no matter where she went. I was too afraid to approach her because I thought to myself “she’s popular, people laugh and bend towards her like she’s a ray of sun. Who am I to try and interfere with that?” It wasn’t until we were paired together for a philosophy lecture that I realized the truth about her. She was utterly, completely, and consumingly real. Nothing that came out of her mouth wasn’t real. That’s why she didn’t speak to me at first. We were meant to discuss something or other in class, and in truth, she was so captivating I don’t even care to recall what it was. She refused to talk to me. Her face was red, her pulse fast, and she was fidgeting. Something I’d seen her do, but never up close. I guess I was sort of staring at her. Neither of us spoke. For that whole half and hour, we just sat next to each other. The first words she said to me where shortly after that. She turned to me, her brown eyes nearly piercing my soul, and stuck out her hand to shake. “Maya. That’s my name. You are Spencer Reid, right?” I was shocked she knew my name, and it showed. She stuttered “I’m not a stalker, don’t worry. You’re just hard to forget. I guess I’m sort of a fangirl.” She chuckled then, and her laugh was contagious. I laughed softly, my eyes sparkling with wonder. I didn’t understand who she was, why I was so enamored with her, or why in the world she wanted to speak to me. It was after a couple moments I realized her hand was still out. “The number of pathogens transferred during handshakes is staggering-“ I began, but she cut my off, taking my shaking hand in hers. “I know, but it’s how I was raised” she smiled at my weak hand shake, my mouth slightly agape. “And I don’t mind transferring some pathogens to you Mr. Reid.” She smiled, and I knew then, she was different. It sounds so stupid, because it’s just like every other love story, not unique, a cliche even. But the thing is, I would’ve brang down every single star and showed her how they resembled the freckles on her face, gone back in time so I could rewrite every love song with her name, and taken back every single kiss and I live you before her, because I knew in that moment I could never stop myslef from falling in love with her.
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