hi gorgeous! idk if this is like a good a idea for you to write of anything, but maybe some Spencer fluff when he sees his ex again after like a long time, and they are still into each other and maybe at some point Penelope founds out or he tells her or something and she's just like "OMG! you have to get back with her!!!!" or something like that, idk. just leave your creativity flow
Thank you so much for the req I loved writing this one so much!! I hope you like it!! And thank you for letting me include Penelope she’s lowkey my favourite to write for lol❤️
The Road Back To You // Spencer Reid☕️
Synopsis: After a painful breakup, Spencer realises he’s still hopelessly in love with you. With some encouragement (and meddling) from Penelope he finds himself on your doorstep, desperate to win you back.
Pairing: s6! spencer reid x ex girlfriend! reader (ft everyones favourite matchmaker, Penelope Garcia)
Genre: fluff… well he’s a sad little yearner for a while but it has a happy ending i promise!!
Notes/Tags: Swearing once. Spencer yearns like crazy. He’s a little sad sorry but he’s okay at the end. Spencer is awkward as hell and has zero game but we love him. Talks about Haley’s death. Otters mentioned! Gay people mentioned! I honestly don’t have much to say but I like this one a lot!!!
masterlist // if you enjoy pls reblog!! it helps so much!!
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Otters are often seen as a symbol of love. They’re affectionate and many species mate for life making them synonymous with soulmates in a lot of people’s hearts. In February you can find them plastered all over Valentine’s Day cards, hand in hand as they drift on their backs together and refuse to let the water pull them apart. Of course many animals mate for life, it’s not anything otter specific- in fact it’s not even true for all otter species- but you always had a thing for them.
Your mug still sat on the counter in Spencer’s kitchen, two little cartoon otters fading away on the front with the words ‘otterly in love’ printed beneath them in a curly font. Just a few months ago you’d been perched on the counter yourself, tea-filled mug in your hand as you prattled on about the TV show you were currently watching. Spencer was stood opposite you, coffee in his own mug as he listened intently, truthfully not knowing what you were talking about but grinning stupidly all the same. Two opposites so similar. Now it just sat there empty and useless reflecting how Spencer felt every time he looked at it but he didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. There were traces of you everywhere all over his apartment, the ghost of someone who wasn’t dead floating around mockingly with every note still pinned up on his fridge with a silly magnet and every book of yours still tucked between his on his shelves. He was haunted by his own regrets.
It had been an ugly breakup, but not in the traditional sense. There was no screaming or shouting, no throwing or shattering. It was ugly in a quiet way, in the tears that dripped down your cheeks, the soundless begs for him to stay. A silent exit that felt louder than any argument you could’ve had instead- that you wish you’d had instead. A door that closed softly, sympathetically, behind him as he left that somehow felt like a slam that rocked its hinges. It was ugly in the feeling it gave the two of you deep in your hearts; that dull, agonising ache where you just wished the circumstances could be different. It was shortly after Haley’s funeral- after seeing what the job had cost Hotch, Spencer began to put up walls. He thought he was protecting you, you had thought he was protecting himself.
He saw your face everywhere he went. When he walked past your favourite bookstore and gazed into the window like he just couldn’t help himself he saw you scanning the shelves, brows pinched in concentration and your lips moving in silence as you read the titles along the spines with your finger hovering in the air in front of each book. He saw your face light up when you found what you wanted, excitedly but carefully prying the book from the shelf before running over to where he stood, usually by the foreign classics, to show him. He saw how his own face softened as you pressed your shoulder to his, smiling softly as you rambled and flicked through the pages of the book you were now holding between the two of you. The bell above the door rang out, harmonising with your airy laughter as he watched the two of you stroll out onto the street arm in arm, the book he’d bought you tucked tightly under your other arm before the memory faded into nothing, leaving the street empty before him.
It was like that no matter where he went; the café where you had met, the park you two would take evening strolls in after work, hell even in the grocery store he could swear he could see your hair whip through the air as you turned the corner of the aisle, the sleeve of your favourite jacket riding up your arm as you reached for something on a too-high shelf, your perpetually untied shoe laces trailing the floor as you stood on tip toes and-
Oh fuck, it actually is you.
Spencer froze where he stood, or at least he’s pretty sure he did. All he could hear in that moment was the static buzzing in his brain, like a thousand tiny Spencers were running around frantically screaming and shouting up there. His jaw hung open, eyes wide and dumb as he watched you turn towards him almost in slow motion, hair falling around your face like a picture frame. Your mouth was moving but no sound was coming out, at least not that he could hear. All he could focus on was the shape of your lips- so familiar yet now so foreign. Those lips he’d kissed more times than he could count, those lips that had always beamed in his direction except for the last time he’d seen them when they trembled and shook at his words.
“Spencer?” They called out. Your voice was muffled and hazy in his ears like he was only semi-conscious, but God did the sound of his name from your lips feel like heaven. You were staring at him, blinking expectedly like you were waiting for him to do something. “Spencer, you called my name.”
“I did?” He squeaked, voice hoarse as he forced it out. Did he? He cringed at himself for a moment before clearing his throat awkwardly, feigning confidence. “I did. Yes, I did, um-”
What are you doing? Say hello. Ask her how she is. Tell her you miss her. Sweep her off of her feet and tell her you’ll never let her go again.
“Your shoelace is untied.” Idiot.
You hesitated for a moment, visibly confused before glancing down at your shoe, kicking your leg out slightly so that your laces hung in the air between you. You were wearing your converse- the pair you’d bought to match Spencer’s. He noticed.
“Yeah, I know.” You replied, offering him an awkward smile. “You’d think I’d have learned by now, with the way you always panicked every time I tripped on the street.”
“I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” He spoke quietly. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. A thick, mournful silence stretched out between you, saying everything neither of you could voice aloud. Like Haley. Both of your gazes dropped to the floor, to your matching converse, before flickering back to each other at the same time. Perfectly in sync.
“It’s good to see you, Spencer.” You piped up eventually, your voice cutting through the tension slightly. He tried to ignore the stinging feeling in his chest hearing his full name instead of your usual ‘Spence’.
“It’s good to see you too.” He responded, a fond smile pulling at his lips despite everything. He just couldn’t help it when it came to you. “Really good.”
“How have you been? How’s work?” You asked, voice cracking slightly at the last word.
“I’ve been ok.” Not great, not good or fine. Just ok. “Work is… work.” His voice trailed off, not wanting to discuss the very thing that had split you apart. The very thing that had you standing away from each other making small talk instead of walking hand in hand through the aisles as you picked out what you were going to cook together that night.
“Ohmygod!” You chirped suddenly, a hint of excitement in your voice that lifted the tension just a tad. “You cut your hair!” Without thinking, like it was instinct, your hands flew up to his head, twirling a short curl around your finger. Spencer had to fight his eyelids as they threatened to flutter shut but he couldn’t stop the content sigh that left his lips- your hands in his hair felt like home.
“Yeah I did.” He breathed, leaning into your touch ever so slightly. “You always said it was getting too long.”
He remembers the way you used to sit with your legs swung over his lap as you toyed with his hair while some movie or TV show was forgotten in the background. One hand would be resting on your knee, the other wrapped around your back holding you close to him as you teased him, adoration lacing through your sarcasm.
“I’m serious, Spence, you could braid it!” You had laughed, holding his hair up in a ponytail, your hands a makeshift hair tie.
“You’re being dramatic.” He’d argued back, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed the butterflies in his stomach as your fingertips grazed his neck.
“Oh yeah?” You’d challenged, hopping off of his lap and sprinting to the bathroom as he laughed after you from his spot on the couch. You came back brandishing a handful of colourful hair ties and hair clips, a mischievous smile plastered on your face.
Not long after you were leaning back against the arm of the couch, a camera in your hands as you laughed wildly at him, dolled up and blushing as he tried and failed to hide his face with his hands, giggling just as much as you until your cheeks ached.
Now, with your fingers still in his hair, the memory wrapped itself around Spencer’s heart like a rope, squeezing it as it pulled and pulled, threatening to rip it out of his chest entirely.
“Well I think it suits you.” You said softly. You didn’t pull your hand away. Instead you let it fall reluctantly, fingers brushing against the curve of his cheek, so gently that if he wasn’t so in tune with your movements he would’ve missed it completely, before dropping to his shoulder and eventually back at your side as if it never happened.
“It um-” Spencer began, trying to swallow the inexplicable feeling causing a lump in his throat, “my head gets cold sometimes now.” He mumbled, cringing at himself for the odd response. But you laughed.
You laughed that lovely, radiant laugh. The one so heavenly he was sure it would put the angels to shame. God, he wanted to hear that blissful sound for the rest of his life. His gaze shyly dropped from your face, no longer able to handle looking into those eyes that he used to get lost in for hours- he still would if given the opportunity, if it didn’t hurt so much to do so now. That was when he saw it, glistening between your collarbones, framed by your body and shining bright and beautiful. The necklace he gave you on your first anniversary. You were still wearing it.
Spencer breathed in sharply, brows pinched and nose scrunched as he dropped his gaze fully to the floor, the sound of your laughter still ringing in his ears as he blinked back tears. He let himself wonder for just a second about if you felt the same way. If you saw his face in strangers on the street, or if you heard his voice in your head when you were re reading the books he bought you. He thought about whether you still slept on the left side of the bed, or if you stayed in the middle now there was no him to make space for. Did you go back to hugging that stuffed animal you swore you’d outgrown now you didn’t have his side to curl into? Did you leave for work on time now that he wasn’t there begging you to stay in bed with him for just five more minutes as he peppered you with sleepy kisses?
A voice sharply pulled him out of his trance. Not your voice, no- not that serene melody that lead him anywhere with a gentle touch. This was a harsh, grating voice that yanked him out of his thoughts with so much force he almost face planted the floor. This was a man’s voice. Calling your name. His heart sank at the small smile that bloomed on your face as you turned to face the mystery man, and somehow the glow of your necklace- of Spencer’s necklace- seemed to dim against your skin.
“I’ll be right there, Nathan, I’m sorry.” You called back apologetically, waving at him in reassurance before he disappeared back around the corner of the aisle.
Spencer whispered the words to himself while your back was still turned to him, the words burning in the back of his throat. He suddenly felt foolish, like a burden mixing you up in his silly fantasies when you had clearly moved on in your life, yet he couldn’t help the way his body relaxed at the scent of your perfume floating through the air as you spun back to face him.
The two of you spoke in unison. Under any other circumstances Spencer would’ve found it funny how in sync you always were, how perfectly you slotted together like you were practically just one being. But now, his heart sank further, drowning in memories of you. Suffocating. Now it felt like a mockery. Like the current was too strong no matter how hard he grasped your hand, it was pulling you away from him.
“Yeah.” You breathed, almost remorsefully. You bit your lip, your hand flinching hesitantly before reaching out and resting on Spencer’s arm, your thumb rubbing small circles against his cardigan instinctively. “It was really nice to see you, I mean it.”
“It was nice to see you too.” He croaked, trying not to focus on the weight of your hand against him. Clearing his throat he spoke again, unsure whether he wanted to let you go or not. “It’s been a while.” He added wistfully.
“Yeah, it has. It definitely takes me a lot longer to proofread my work before I send it in now.” You chuckled airily, emptily, as you reminisced about the two of you cramped into one chair at his desk in the low lamp light of his apartment.
Spencer didn’t smile back. “I hope you’re doing okay.” He whispered, just loud enough, as he waved goodbye and turned on his heel, not waiting to hear your response. He just needed to get out of there. He didn’t see the way your hand lingered in the air for a moment after he left, how you stared blankly at the spot where he’d stood before forcing yourself to walk away.
The next day at work, he was somber. He was slumped at his desk, letting his coffee run cold as his hands ran through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, sighing to himself as he tried to force himself to think about anything but you. Everything around him felt as if it were in greyscale, even the Rubiks cube he kept on his desk seemed unsolvable as the blocks all faded into indistinguishable shades of lifelessness, so to say he was surprised when a bumble of colours came strutting into his peripheral would be an understatement.
“Okay,” Penelope’s voice sighed as her neon pink heels clicked to a halt at Spencer’s desk. “Spill. What’s wrong, boy wonder.” She asked softly, tapping his hand with the fuzzy topper of her pencil.
“Nothing’s wrong.” He lied, although he didn’t even believe it himself.
“You’re dragging your feet about the place and you’re giving me those little puppy dog eyes of yours and it’s hurting me, Reid, it’s hurting me.” She spoke sadly, pausing to perch herself on the edge of his desk and forcing him to look at her with a gentle tap of his nose. “I just want to wrap you up in a hug if I knew you wouldn’t freak out that I’m carrying all the icky public transport germs on my clothes.”
He smiled briefly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Really, I’m fine, Garcia.”
“No, you’re not.” She spoke a little firmer, suddenly jumping to her feet. “In fact, up, come on. Come with me.”
Impatiently, she waved her hands in the air as she gestured for him to stand before beckoning him to follow her as her heels began clacking towards her office, Spencer trailing begrudgingly behind her. He really didn’t want to talk about it, but only a fool would dare try and escape Penelope once she was committed to taking care of them. In her office, she practically forced him into her desk chair, the wheels spinning it side to side as he adjusted himself. His eyes trailed the army of colourful trinkets and toys lining her workspace, though they couldn’t quite distract him from the bold FBI logo bitterly blinking back at him at all angles from the monitors all around.
“Okay, I have my therapist hat on,” she began, comically adjusting her headband on her head, “talk to me.”
“I’m just in one of those moods, I guess.” Spencer murmured, avoiding her gaze and picking up a small plushie kitten from the desk and turning it over in his hands as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
“Uh-uh. No. You’ve got this sad, heartbroken little look in your eyes that pulls on my little heartstrings. I haven’t seen that look since- oh.” She cut herself off quietly, her eyes softening in understanding. “Is it her?”
Swallowing his emotions Spencer nodded, still focusing on the toy in his hands. “I saw her yesterday.”
“Oh!” She repeated, squealing a little as she clasped her hands together excitedly before she remembered the situation and promptly dropped her hands back to her lap. “Oh. Right, right.”
“Right.” Spencer echoed solemnly.
“How’d it go?” Penelope asked tenderly after a brief silence, scooting slightly closer in her own chair.
He shifted in his seat, squeezing his eyes shut as he contemplated whether or not he wanted to tell the truth. Honestly, he wasn’t really sure how it went. He knows how it felt for him, like every last bit of hope for the two of you had been squeezed out of him, but he frustratingly couldn’t get a read on you. Nor had he stopped thinking about you since.
“It was alright, at first. It was a little awkward on my part,” he scrunched up his nose, cringing at himself in retrospect, “and kind of sad but… nice.”
Penelope nodded along empathetically. “But then?”
“But then,” Spencer trailed off, stilling the toy cat in his hands before setting it down in defeat. “She was with somebody else.”
“Oh, honey.” She cooed, taking the plushie out of his lap and holding his hand instead. He usually wasn’t one to accept such gestures but in the moment it was comforting. “Tell me everything. Every word.”
“I mean I don’t regret what happened,” Spencer began after recounting the events to her, “at least I don’t think I do. I could never regret protecting her and keeping her safe but just seeing her there with him made me-“
“Jealous?” She cut in, raising a brow at him.
“What? No, not jealous, just-“ he tried to defend himself but he couldn’t think of anything else to say that could explain the ugly feeling bubbling in his chest, heinous and spitting like poison. Maybe he was jealous.
“Jealous.” She repeated, punctuating herself with another tap of her fuzzy pencil. “It’s okay, Reid. It’s normal. And for what it’s worth I think she’s totally still into you.”
“What?” Spencer squeaked, finally meeting her gaze with an incredulous look. “That’s- that’s ridiculous, Garcia.”
“Sweetheart,” She began, her voice taking on an ever so slightly teasing tone, “she was wearing your matching shoes.”
“They’re practical shoes.”
“She was still wearing your necklace.”
“Maybe she just liked how it looked with her outfit.”
“With her hoodie and converse? Yeah, sure.” Penelope cocked her eyebrow at him again, smirking slightly as she tilted her head at him. “Reid. My dear boy wonder. She played with your hair.”
“She was just commenting on my haircut,” Spencer insisted through stuttering words and burning cheeks, “that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Oh, come on!” She sighed, exasperated as she through her hands up. “That is classic, textbook I’m-still-in-love-with-my-ex-boyfriend. It’s yearning 101!”
He opened his mouth to protest, but there was no stopping the romance-loving adrenaline rushing through the veins of the meddling woman before him.
“You have to go after her.”
Spencer’s jaw dropped, mouth opening and closing rapidly like a fish as he blinked repeatedly in tandem. He was malfunctioning, evidently. “What? No!” He yelped, voice several octaves higher than before. “Garcia that’s crazy! Thats-“
“Genius!” She finished for him, a maniacal glimmer in her wild eyes as she beamed. “Oh it’s the perfect rom-com scenario.” She mused, clasping her hands together.
“I don’t watch romantic comedies.” Spencer replied deadpan. He bit back the word anymore. He used to, with you.
“This is the scene where the guy chases the girl through the rain,” Penelope began, ignoring him entirely, “or the scene where he jumps in a taxi and throws money at the cabbie and runs through the airport screaming her name right before she gets on the plane.”
“Plane? But she isn’t going anywhere.”
“Oh, will you shush? I’m being romantic. Something you should be doing with little miss love of your life right now.”
“I don’t know.” He sighed, sinking down in his chair and swivelling side to side in thought. “She’s moved on, Garcia.”
The defeated croak in his voice weighed heavy on Penelope’s heart. She often felt other people’s emotions in full force as if they were her own, something she saw both as her detriment and as her greatest triumph. But right now as she watched her heartbroken baby brother shrink into himself she wanted nothing more than to fix everything for him.
“You said his name was Nathan?” She asked, although she already knew, as she spun to face her monitor, pulling her keyboard towards her as her eyes locked onto the screen with laser focus.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, concerned at the sudden steel emotion hardening her features. “You can’t just cyber stalk everyone you deem an inconvenience- that’s a gross misuse of FBI resources.”
Penelope said nothing but held up a finger with authority, effectively shushing him though he still glanced over his shoulder nervously like he was expecting the door to be broken down any second. In just a few seconds her expression melted, a satisfied look taking over instead as she smirked, tilting the screen away from him with her perfect pink nails.
“You swear they were together?” She asked, an amused lilt in her voice that had Spencer furrowing his brows in confusion. She was practically vibrating with excitement.
“I think so.” He replied warily, eyes darting between her face and her death grip on the edge of the monitor.
“Well…” She sighed dramatically, though the grin on her face only grew wider. “Nathan’s boyfriend isn’t going to be too happy about that.”
Slowly, she spun the monitor back to face him, revealing a social media post. Sure enough, Nathan was stood looking positively ecstatic, arm around another man and hugging him close. Warm candles lit up the room around them, illuminating the balloons strung up on the wall and the roses on the table. Beneath the photo in the caption read the words ‘happy anniversary, baby” with a string of heart emojis.
Despite his protests to Penelope’s sleuthing Spencer felt a weight lift off of his chest, chuckling to himself slightly and he’d never been so happy to be wrong about something in his life. He was just a friend.
“You already let her go once,” she began, speaking gently again, “you can’t afford to let her go again.” Her hand let go of the monitor, instead coming to rest on Spencer’s shoulder.
“But I can’t afford to lose her forever, either.” He uttered, voice broken with something between heartbreak and regret. “I can’t afford to mix her up in this world. To lose her like-” He stopped speaking abruptly, like the thought of it was too painful to even force the words out.
“Like Haley.” Penelope finished for him again, rubbing his shoulder as he dropped his eyes to the floor. “I get it, sweetie, I do. But are you really going to let her walk away forever over a possibility?”
“If it saves her life, of course.”
“I don’t mean to be a Debbie Downer, Reid, but you can’t guarantee anybodies life.” He nodded heavily, it was a reality the whole team was unfortunately all too aware of. “It’s not promised to anyone, whether you’re with her or not, so don’t let it get in the way.”
“I love her.” Spencer declared. Crisp and final.
“So go get her.” Penelope bumped his shoulder lightly in encouragement. “If not for you then for me, I miss my girl’s night partner.”
“I never stopped you from seeing her?” He turned to look at her, mentally running through every conversation they’d had about you incase he ever insinuated that without realising.
“I know but it’s basic girl code! Have you never seen a rom-com in your life? I could never do that to you.” She held a hand to her heart dramatically, like she was making an oath.
“Girl code?” Spencer echoed, confused, “but I’m not a-“
“Reid.” Penelope firmly planted both hands on his shoulders as she spun him in his chair until they were perfectly opposite each other, staring into his eyes sternly. “Go. Get. Her.”
“We still have 5 hours of work left.” He mumbled nervously.
“After work, genius. After work.”
Later that evening, after pacing around his apartment for what felt like an agonisingly long time, Spencer found himself outside of your door. Actually, he’d been there for so long he was half worried a neighbour was going to spot him outside of the window and call the police on him for loitering, but he just couldn’t work up the courage to knock on your door. The last time he had been here still haunted him and every time he looked up at the door he saw himself walking out of it, tears rolling down your face as you stood on the other side. Instead, he fumbled with the edges of his sleeves, repeatedly tightening and loosening his tie and occasionally reaching down into his bag and running his fingers along your mug tucked safely within one of his sweaters so that it didn’t shatter on the way over.
Desperately trying to calm his breathing, he finally made his way up the stairs, his legs trembling and threatening to give out beneath him with every step. Taking a deep breath, he reached out a shaking hand and gave three brave knocks on the wood, trying to ignore the nausea clawing at him from the inside.
He almost stopped breathing entirely when the door swung open moments later. There you stood. Perfect, ethereal you. The light of your hallway illuminated you in an angelic glow, a halo-like ring shining in your hair and Spencer swore in that moment that he had died and gone to heaven. You were only in your sweats and an old t shirt, glasses on and hair thrown up in a lazy ponytail, but he thought you were the most bewitching thing he had ever seen or that he ever would see for as long as he lived (which may not be very long given the way he was still holding his breath).
“Spencer?” Your voice was music to his ears. Raspy and sleepy in a way that had him wanting to tuck you into bed with a sweet goodnight kiss.
“Hi.” He barely managed, voice hoarse and jaw hanging open.
“Are you okay?” You asked, shifting your weight where you stood in the doorway.
“Yeah, I um-“ He started, losing momentum very quickly. “I didn’t think this far ahead. I’m sorry.”
You bit your lip, stifling back a chuckle. Even in your situation it was impossible not to fall for his loveable awkwardness, just the sheer Spencer-ness of it all. Before you had a chance to second guess yourself you were stepping to the side, holding your door open just a bit wider and gesturing for him to come in. He followed immediately, a precious look of disbelief on his face as you shut the door behind him. It felt weird yet comfortable to have him back in your space. Before the breakup, these walls had seen all of your movie nights and every meal you began to cook together before getting distracted dancing around the kitchen in the glow of the refrigerator light. It had heard every word, every compliment, every joke, every time you laughed or cried together, every soft snore as you slept tangled up in each other’s arms. Welcoming him in felt like welcoming him home.
“I’m sorry to stop by when it’s so late.” He found his voice eventually as he followed you into the living room. “You can tell me to leave if you need to.”
“Don’t be silly.” You smiled, sitting down on the couch. Carefully, he lowered himself beside you, keeping a respectable distance but you caught the way his fingers twitched at his side like he wanted to reach out for you. “I’d never turn you away, Spence.”
Spence. You didn’t mean to say it. It just slipped out. But you didn’t take it back.
“I wanted to apologise.” He fought his nerves and looked straight in your eyes, holding your gaze with a serious look that you couldn’t quite place.
“For what?” You tilted your head, unable to pull your eyes away.
“For everything.” The sincerity in his voice made your breath catch in your throat, the emotion in his words unearthing every feeling you thought you’d buried. “For leaving. Especially for how I left.”
“I thought I was protecting you. I thought that by letting you go I was keeping you safe, that I was doing what was right. But when I saw you yesterday… I realised I still love you. I mean, I knew I still loved you- God did I know- but I think I was denying just how much.” Your heart thudded in your chest, as did his, but he forced himself to keep going. “And maybe it’s selfish but I just can’t keep going around seeing your face everywhere I go, hearing your voice in every book I read, feeling your touch when it’s not there.”
He broke eye contact for just a second, glancing around at the room he’d once called his second home, and when he looked back at you there were tears in his eyes.
“You don’t have to accept my apology,” he continued, voice beginning to hollow, “but I just had to tell you. I had to try.”
To your surprise, there were tears forming in your own eyes. You hadn’t even felt them creeping up on you, no sting in your lash line before the drops were rolling down your cheek. Without thinking, like it was instinct to take care of you, Spencer reached forward to wipe them away and you leaned into his touch like it was second nature. His fingertips brushed against your face, the warmth sending a jolt through you that had you wanting to jump into his arms and kiss him until the break up was completely and utterly forgotten- but a small part of you was still hurting. And that part of you recoiled. You tried to speak, but the words came out hoarse.
“I understand.” You whispered. “It’s okay, Spencer.”
“No, no it’s not.” He insisted, voice low but firm.
“No, it’s not.” You admitted faintly, folding your hands in your lap. “But if you want to fix things… I’m willing to let you try.”
Spencer let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding, his chest deflating so fast he thought it might collapse in on itself. His fingers twitched again, the nerves shooting through him as he processed your words.
“Thank you.” He breathed, barely audible at all. “Thank you so much. Thank you.” He repeated it over and over again like a prayer. He wasn’t even sure who he was thanking, you or whatever cosmic forces of the universe had decided to grace him with your existence in the first place.
“I’ve missed you too.” You moved along the couch until your knees were touching, and with bated breath you took his shaking hand in yours and admired how perfectly they fit together, like they were moulded just for one another. “I miss you every time I wake up alone from a bad dream and you’re not there to read me back to sleep. I miss you every time I smell coffee and it’s not coming from your mug, from your hands. I miss you all the damn time, Spence.”
He raised your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a kiss so soft yet so full of raw emotion to your knuckles and you realised he was crying too.
“I swear, you’ll never have to miss me again. I’m not going anywhere this time, I promise.” And he meant it. He meant it with every fibre of his being.
“Good.” Was all you could muster. You believed him, and that was all that mattered.
A sentimental silence fell over the room as you both sat with your hands still entwined, except now your head was on his shoulder and he was pressing tender kisses into your hair the way he always used to. After a while, he jolted upright suddenly, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small object wrapped in blue tissue paper, which he carefully ripped off.
A smile pulled at you before you could register it as you saw the little cartoon otters on your favourite mug. You’d left it at his apartment the last time you saw him before the break up and hadn’t had the courage to ask for it back, leaving it behind alongside everything you’d left unsaid.
“I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to say what I planned to,” Spencer started, laughing at himself quietly. “So I thought I’d return your mug. Just incase I needed an excuse as to why I was here.”
You found yourself laughing too, heart blooming with adoration for your silly, awkward genius. “You can keep it.” You mused, resting your head back on his shoulder like it belonged there. “You’ll need it next time I’m at your place.”
A lovesick grin grew on Spencer’s face as he settled into you, to say he was in love with you would be underselling it. He was completely, inescapably enamoured with you- smitten, besotted, infatuated- there was no word in any language that could describe the depth of the love he felt. With a full heart, he took your hand in his once again and this time he vowed he would never let it go again, no matter how hard the current pulled.
