the violet effect // spencer reid

23 • flawless

• chapter warnings: mention of bomb threats, spoilers for s2e8 •

previously:

For once, Spencer was at a loss for words, but the warmth in her smile said enough.

•••

Spencer paced his small apartment, his phone pressed to his ear. The tickets for The Neighbourhood concert sat neatly on his coffee table, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. The clock on the wall reminded him they were already running behind.

The line clicked, and Violet answered with a slightly breathless, "Hello?"

"Hey," Spencer greeted, his voice light but tinged with humor. "Just checking—are you almost ready to leave, or are you still deciding what to wear?"

There was a pause before Violet sighed dramatically. "I’m almost ready. I just need to…" Her voice trailed off, and Spencer could hear the faint rustling of fabric.

He smirked, knowing the truth. "You’re not ready at all, are you?"

"Well," she drawled, "considering I’m still staring at my closet like it owes me an explanation, no."

Spencer laughed, the sound genuine and warm. "Don’t worry; I’m no better. I’ve changed three times already. Who knew going to a concert was this complicated?"

"It’s not," Violet said, exasperated but amused. "We’re just overthinking it. What are you wearing right now?"

Spencer glanced down at his outfit: a pair of black corduroy pants, a white dress shirt, and his trusty purple cardigan. "Uh, casual but not sloppy? Black pants, white shirt, cardigan."

"Classic Spencer Reid," she teased. "I’ll probably go with the black dress, then. Simple."

"Sounds perfect," he said without hesitation.

There was a brief silence between them before Violet spoke again, softer this time. "We should probably leave soon if we want to avoid traffic."

"Agreed. I’ll see you there?"

"See you," she echoed before hanging up.

•••

Spencer arrived first, his nerves heightened as he waited outside the venue. The night air was cool, and he shifted on his feet, glancing at the entrance every few seconds. When Violet finally appeared, his breath hitched.

Her black dress hugged her figure perfectly, the cropped white cardigan adding a casual elegance. Her ginger curls were swept into a high bun, with a few loose strands framing her face. She looked effortlessly stunning.

"Sorry I’m late," she called, walking toward him with an apologetic smile.

Spencer found himself staring, momentarily lost for words. "You look… incredible," he managed, his voice soft but sincere.

Violet’s cheeks flushed, and she glanced down at herself. "Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself, Dr. Reid."

"Ready?" He gestured toward the entrance, placing a hand gently on the small of her back as they walked in.

Inside, the venue buzzed with energy. The crowd was a mix of excited chatter and anticipation. Though they had early entry tickets, arriving late meant they missed the opening act. Still, the timing was perfect—the lights dimmed just as they found their spot, and the band took the stage.

As The Neighbourhood launched into their set, Violet was completely mesmerized. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and she swayed slightly to the music, the rhythm pulling her in. Spencer couldn’t help but steal glances at her, watching her expression shift with every song.