s!ןʌǝɹ sdoon; (silver spoon),
the immediate inheritance of wealth at birth.
𝒽𝒶𝓏𝑒𝓁 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝓀𝑒𝓉𝓉 was born with a silver spoon of (to her) unnecessary riches. closed off and secluded as a child from the beginning, hazel begins to u...
〈 "I'm not like he is, you know," he tells me, but that isn't the part that stirs my cold, dead heart. 〉 —anonymous
"i'm not perfect, and i will never be. i'm terrified everyday, of what life has in store for me. i can't deal with it myself, i minus well just die."
; PART FIVE
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SPENCER REID stood there, watching the love of his life leave him in the dust. He had never felt so broken, so torn up in his entire life. Because of one human being.
One human being he put too much faith in.
But this was his fault, and he knew it. There was so much regret inside of Spencer that is was unbearable. He aggressively wiped the tears off his face, exiting the Hazel Beckett's home for what seemed like the very last time. It was over. This happiness was over. He knew it wouldn't last long.
When Spencer got home, he didn't know what to do with himself. It had seemed a decade, the smells of his home even unfamiliar to him now. He collapsed on the couch, feeling completely weak and helpless. Spencer Reid began to sob, letting his emotions out by himself.
Hazel would be here by now, hugging him until it felt okay again. But she wasn't, and that thought was the only thing that make his cries louder. He was weak. Weak for being so scared in the first place. Weak for being a liar. Weak for hurting her.
His heart ached and twisted in all horrendously excruciating ways possible. Spencer needed a cure, and he needed it now. He needed Hazel, but she wasn't here.
Spencer stood up, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. This wasn't right. The thoughts that were occurring in his mind were all too familiar—and Spencer felt sick. He felt sick when the next best option occurred in his mind to cure his pain. Spencer grabbed a book off the counter, angrily throwing it against the wall out of self-loath.
He shook his head, grabbing both sides of it, as if to force the devil out of his mind. He suppressed the longing urge—for now.
But Spencer knew deep down inside his brain, if things ever got worse, there was a cure waiting for him underneath his bathroom sink.
