CHERRY FLAVOURED || Re-Write

NINE

NSFW. insinuation of eating disorder. mentions of suicidal tendencies and addiction.

not edited, but when are my chapters edited..?

SPENCER REID'S POV

The look painted on her face made me feel bad. She was sitting across from me in a fancy restaurant with her hands in her lap and her eyes never fluttering away from them. Well, she did look away every once in a while, but only when the waiter passed by to offer more water and tea, or when someone asked if she really was an FBI agent. She didn't open her menu or do anything more than pick up a piece of bread from the basket between us or swallow a bit of water.

I was becoming impatient. She wasn't eating but I could hear her stomach eating itself from across the table. "Are you not going to eat?" I asked. "You didn't order anything."

"Neither did you," she replied. She looked up for a fraction of a second but returned to her hands immediately after.

"I find it rude to eat when someone else hasn't gotten their food."

"It wouldn't be rude if I simply decided not to eat. It would be you eating your food and me sitting across from you." I rolled my eyes. She laughed out of the blue and finally lifted her neck. "I think it's funny how you find something miniscule and not rude at all, actually rude, but when you treat me like utter shit, it's everything but."

"Really?" I laughed. Just like her, except I didn't sell it out that I didn't care. "You find it funny?"

She stared right at my face with dead eyes and an even more dead face. "I'm not an idiot," she said, only her lips moving. It was impressive, I would say. "I know you're trying to act like you care when in reality you care as much as the waiter cares about us once we leave. He doesn't care about us, he only wants our tip. And I sense you're that way too. Whatever you want, tell me so I can grant it and get you out of my hair."

I scoffed. I wanted nothing but for the lunch to be over. For the day to be over, more than anything. "I want nothing but for you to eat."

"Right." She smiled and reached across the table for the warm bread recently set out. She stuffed it into her mouth and quietly chewed as she comfortably leaned back. "Happy now?" she asked once it was down her throat and no longer inflating her cheeks.

I curtly nodded and looked past her at our waiter. I nodded to him and he picked up his speed towards us. When he arrived at our table, I pointed towards the unopened menus in front of us. "You sell chipotle sandwiches here, is that correct?"

He nodded. "Yes, sir, we do. It comes with authentic mozzarella..."

"Perfect," I said when he finished the long list of ingredients. There was a lot inside of one sandwich but it was enough to fill YN. She didn't eat from what I saw–only coffee and that stupid silver flask she hid in the pocket of her blazer. "The lady will have that and I will have the avocado salad." The waiter nodded and sped off.

I was calm then, with YN saying nothing. I wasn't even expecting a thank you. I didn't want one, really. It wasn't my money nor something out of the ordinary, it was only asking the waiter for food to feed someone who rarely ate.

But of course, she had to say something. "Thanks. You didn't have to... get me anything."

I fixed my tight collar. It was choking me, albeit it rarely did that. "I kinda did. Emily forced me to take you out for lunch and if I return without a dent in her account besides a shit load of tea, she'll be furious. Plus, you don't eat."

"I do," she snarled. "You just don't see me when I do."

"Do you?" I asked. "Because all I see you do is drink coffee and whatever you pour into that flask."