Reclusive- s.r

nine

Spencer Reid

When Vega had asked me to accompany her home for Christmas, I was blindsided, yet also extremely grateful that she had offered in the first place. I don't think she knows how much her offer means to me, to be able to spend the holidays with her family, who have been so nice and I've only just met them. I could not be more grateful that they've let me into their home and I'm glad I came, it's an upgrade to being alone on Christmas. 

At least here, I'll get to wake up and see Vega instead.

I think her parents like me, and maybe her grandparents. They don't speak much English, but I'm guessing the kiss on the cheek was a good sign, or is that a standard thing? I'm not sure. When I walk into Vega's room, I first notice the cream coloured walls, and the gold accents adorning the room. 

It's cluttered, yet clean, and somehow utterly Vega.

Her crisp white bed is tucked away in the corner, right beside the window, with beige and cream pillows piled on top. She has several picture frames on her walls, with random prints in them, and little gold accents almost everywhere. I spot a clothing rack tucked away in the corner, and a full size - you guessed it- gold mirror sitting against the floor. On her window ledge sits stacks of books, stray jewelry items, and tall candlesticks that are there merely for decoration.

I notice a small trundle bed on the floor beside Vega's bed, and she must be thinking the same thing as me because she glances at me, then back at the small bed on the floor. She sighs, "You can take the big bed."

"I'd much rather not be an imposition. I'll take the trundle and be out of your way." She shakes her head and points at the small bed on the floor, "Please. Your body will be hanging off half of the thing."

I shrug, "I really don't mind." I don't sleep much anyway, I want to say, but I don't. She groans, "You're so stubborn. Fine, suffer then."

"I will, thanks."

Immaturely, I stick my tongue out at her and she responds with sticking up a middle finger in my direction. She rummages through her bag until she pulls out her wallet, sticking the small piece of leather in one of her pockets and then looking at me once more.

"I have to head to the store, do you need anything?"

"Can I come with you?" I've only been here for a few hours and I'm not entirely comfortable being left alone with her parents yet, because I know I'll just be awkward. So until I've settled in a bit, I'll glue myself to her side.

She nods her head and I follow her back down the stairs and toward a small little bowl near the front door where she pulls out a set of keys, shouting a quick goodbye as we head out to the garage. There's another car in there, which is different from the one we drove here in, a small black car sitting there.

"You do know how to drive, right?" I ask cautiously, and she looks at me like I'm an idiot.

"Obviously," she replies. "Don't you?"

I don't say anything in response, just sliding into the passenger's side seat and avoiding her gaze. I don't have a license for many reasons, but just a few being that no one would be able to teach me, I could not afford a car now, and that the thought of being on the road with thousands of other people terrifies me.

"You don't have your license?" She asks, carefully reversing out of the driveway. I shake my head in embarrassment, expecting her to make fun of me for it. Surprisingly, she doesn't. "Why not?"

"I prefer public transport. Driving kind of scares me," I admit. It's not the whole truth, but it isn't exactly a lie either. Besides, with my coordination, the road is likely much safer without me behind the wheel.