Alone {Spencer Reid x Reader}
Plot: “I was alone with you.”
Yo im sorry for this crappy angst I wrote in literally an hour.
Wine slipped past your lips as you took another drink, craving the soothing it would bring your nerves.
“I’ll be home in an hour,” he said at six. It was ten now, and no word from the genius you called your boyfriend. It used to worry you. You used to cry and cry, anxiously awaiting the turn of the doorknob.
You used to run to him, practically jumping on him as he walked through the threshold. His lips used to calm you into submission; you were his outlet.
But that was months ago. Now, you left a plate of food on the table with a note as you went to bed. You hugged yourself, still unused to sleeping alone without his strong arms.
Alcohol comforted you as you gave up waiting, gave up hoping. You didn’t hurt anymore. You were numb to his frequent absence, and perhaps he was numb too.
You raised your glass to your lips again, taking another swig. The doorknob turned, and the wood began to creak open. You didn’t so much as flinch. Your eyes remained glued to the black TV screen, ignoring the thud of his bag hitting the floor.
“You’re late,” you said simply. The words were bitter and filled with reprimand, but your tone was dry and unbothered.
“Y/N, I’m so so sorry,” he said sadly, coming to sit beside you on the couch. “I didn’t know there was so much paperwork. And JJ needed my help with hers as well.” You stayed unmoving, even as his hand was sliding up your arm.
It was all routine, nothing new, nothing impressive. Shit, the beginning of your relationship had been in the stars. He had won you over, and you loved his dedication.
You loved everything about him. His job was his life, and you understood that. But maybe you thought you would become more important than the BAU, that he could start a new life with you.
You regretted getting your hopes up that he would devote himself to you entirely. He was practically cheating on you with his job. It was hard being with someone but still feeling alone.
You sighed and shook your head, standing to put your now empty glass in the sink. You didn’t remember finishing it..
Spencer came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your midsection. Your stomach felt heavy, if anything. Nothing fluttered, no sparks flew; his touch was another part of the “perfect couple” regime.
Your hands shook as you cleaned the glass and set it on the drying rack. His lips hovered next to your ear, whispering apologies and the same promises he always made when he messed up.
They laid there, in your heart of hearts, unfulfilled. They were empty.
You stepped away and stood a few feet away from his tense body. There was a wall between you, and you felt a sledgehammer materialize in your grasp. Your eyes connected with his puppy dog ones, glazed with knowing.
“I think it’s over,” you said. Your voice was hushed, but not fragile. The threads of your statement couldn’t be cut. Spencer’s face fell, but your shoulders remained straight. Maybe you were the problem.
“What?” he stammered. “I think we should break up,” you reiterated. “Y/N, baby,” he pleaded. “I love you, please don’t go.”
“You might love me, but you love your job more,” you said. “I refuse to compete with a position, Spencer.”
You shook your head. “No, you can’t. I won’t make you choose between me and your job. Your job is your life, and I won’t even suggest you leave it.”
“I love you,” he repeated as tears began to form in his eyes.
“And I love you, too. But this isn’t going to work. We know it,” you said with a sigh. Spencer sighed and his shoulders slumped, defeat washing over his features.
He cursed under his breath as you stared on. You had grown accustomed to your own sadness, and just couldn’t make yourself cry with him.
“Y/N, I’ll be so alone without you.”
The wall began to crumble and the dust flew into your eyes.
“And I was alone with you. I can’t do it anymore. Just,” you sighed. “Tomorrow, I’ll leave. I’ve arranged to stay at a friend’s house until I find my own place.”
He nodded, unable to talk through his sobs. Your resolve nearly faltered as you ghosted past his body, lingering at the edge of the hall leading to the bedroom.
“Do you want to sleep in the same bed tonight?” you asked softly. He turned to face you, nodding. “Wait up for me?” he asked, wiping his bloodshot eyes. “Of course,” you said, changing into your favorite nightgown.
Half an hour later, Spencer followed suit, bare chested and clad in gingham pajama pants. He crawled into bed beside you, and strangely, it felt peaceful.
The tension was gone, peace had been made. In the darkness of the bedroom, you let him inside your body one last time.
Your numbness shed away in waves. You angrily bit and scratched at each other, discarding almost every blanket. He left marks that you knew would linger for days, trying to remember a time when you were all his.
The anger gradually shifted to sadness. You began to cry into the crook of his neck as he hovered over you, thrusting his hips to the beat of your hearts.
He gripped the fitted sheet as tears of his own fell on your red skin. You held on to him, feeling him in a way that felt more intimate than the sex. You felt his heart, you saw it on his sleeve.
But, the feeling of euphoria came over you as you reached your high, his arriving soon after on your torso. You lay in his sweaty embrace for a few minutes before letting out a laugh.
He looked down to you, confused. “It’s just, that was amazing,” you said. “And, in a dark way, it’s kind of funny it’s our last time.”
A chuckle flew past his lips. “I guess you’re right.” You began swapping familiar tales, reaching for the good times.
Spencer fell asleep hours later, a smile on his lips. You watched him for a few moments before falling into a dream of your own, preparing to pack the suitcases on your side of the closet.
The next day, your friend’s truck parked outside, loaded with all but one bag, which you clutched as you stared at Spencer.
“I guess this is it,” you said breathlessly. “Yeah,” he responded. You pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Goodbye, Spencer.”
“Y/n,” he said, causing you to turn and look at him as your hand rested on the doorknob. “Do you think in another universe we had a chance?”
You stayed silent for a while before smiling a bittersweet smile. “Yes, I think so.”
“That’s good enough for me,” he said, turning his back towards you. “Me too,” you said before leaving, closing the door for the last time. ‘Me too’.
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