RUBATOSIS. spencer reid

| fifteen

SYLVIA CONNELLY.

I WAS IN SERIOUS TROUBLE.

One night with Spencer Reid was all he needed to fool me into thinking that he was charming, lovely, and attractive—and truthfully, I think that I was already beginning to fall into his trap.

But then again, he sometimes made me so mad with that pretty little face of his that I want to bash it in with my fist. I had to constantly remind myself that he was an asshole, because he was and a pretty face couldn't hide that.

But I didn't know why my heart went into overdrive when I found out that I had to room with Spencer.

And I didn't know why I wanted to be nice to him. So badly, even with knowing what kind of person he was now.

But worst of all I didn't know why I want him to call me Sylvester again. I wanted that annoying nickname to come back because at least it meant that we still had some kind of connection.

When I returned from my long shower, I found Spencer laying on the bed, one leg crossed over the other and a book on his stomach. He wore those glasses I recognized from that night at the hospital. That night he waited an hour to bring me food and shoved his long legs into a tiny couch. For me.

"You're alive. I was beginning to think you drowned in there or something." He said, peering at me with his glasses down his nose.

"Disappointed?" I asked him, crouching down to my bag and unzipping it.

"Not one bit." Spencer said softly, my heart stopping.

I wanted to smile. So badly. I let out a soft sigh instead, turning to see his gaze still fixed on mine. Spencer's gaze flickered down to my chest for half a second, but I caught it immediately. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, realizing I didn't put a bra on. Who the hell slept with one, anyways?

I sure as hell hoped he didn't see anything. I prayed to the heavens above that Spencer Reid hadn't seen that my body was naturally reacting to the cold. The cold. That was it.

"Want your bed back?" He asked, voice suddenly ten times higher in octave. I furrowed my eyebrows, shaking my head and not bothering to turn around in case I was distracting him again.

"You can have the bed tonight." I said, getting under the blanket on the couch.

"Sounds good." Spencer chirped. "Mind if I keep this light on for a little? I wanna finish this." He waved his gigantic book around, and I noticed he had barely started it.

"Sure." I replied, blinking at his figure. The entire room was dark now except for the lamp next to him, and I liked how it illuminated his chiseled face and slender nose. Spencer was, frankly, strangely beautiful to be honest.