3 [Spencer Reid x Reader]

Truth

Spencer's POV

It was dark outside when Spencer woke up. Considering the color of the light, it had to have been right after nightfall. The days were getting shorter, colder.

Surprisingly, he could still feel your warmth emanating through the blanket, though his arm wasn't around you anymore. It was nice, just laying here like this with you. He was curious to see what you looked like while you were sleeping. He had already seen you asleep in the office and the hospital, but this was different.

He was afraid of what would happen if he opened his eyes and saw you right there, so close to his. He was afraid of how he would feel if he saw your serene face, if he saw your eyes flutter open, if he saw the hint of a smile on your lips when you realized that he had stayed with you. Which is exactly why he had asked you to turn over. You were so mesmerizing sometimes that it was difficult for him to be able to take a step back and realize that you were the monster of this story, not the men who were hunting you.

Being around you made how he felt more tangible. More accessible. When he was away from you, it wasn't that bad. He was able to convince himself that his attraction to you was imaginary, and that it really wasn't so intense. But the moment that he was in the room with you, those delusions were shattered completely. Spencer returned to the word "infatuation" often.

That's just what it was. Nothing else.

Yet Spencer's heart dropped when he got the call from Hotch earlier in the afternoon. He had thought it was an update on the interrogations that they had been doing on the man that had shot at them in the hospital parking garage, but it wasn't. Rossi had found that he was being tailed, which meant that everyone on the team presumably was being followed. However, they wouldn't be tailing team members if they knew where you were. To keep you safe, nobody was allowed in or out of the house. Spencer was going to be stuck with you.

Alone.

He had been painfully honest when he was speaking to you earlier. He knew that if he started something with you, he wouldn't be able to stop. He could argue that he had already crossed that line. He had started it by holding you close while you cried, by drawing you into his lap, by putting his hand around your neck.

Spencer wasn't upset because he had to stay here with you, he was upset because he was secretly thrilled about spending more time with you. Every second spent with you was fascinating, and not just from a behavioral standpoint. There was something so alluring about you, more than just your intelligence and quick wit and beautiful smile, and-

No.

He abruptly rolled over, moving as stealthily as he could out of bed. He grabbed his go-bag and hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself and flicking the bright lights on. He had to be alone right now. Your mere presence was confusing him, the traces of your perfume muddling his brain and giving him all sorts of ideas that were wrong.

Spencer examined himself in the mirror. His clothes were crumpled, his hair an absolute mess. He turned his head from side to side, looking for any potential marks you might have given him. There was only one on the left, a slight bruise underneath his jaw. It was maybe the size of half a fingerprint, not too noticeable if one wasn't looking for it. You had cut off blood flow to his brain by putting pressure on his jugular instead of his throat; you knew how to choke someone without actually hurting them.

The thought of choking you was...

Spencer felt a chill down his spine, goosebumps forming along his arms. He had choked out romantic partners before, consensually of course, but never that harshly. Never until they passed out. And they had never fought back like you did.