Here to Misbehave | S.R.

Ch. 9 | The Fight

Summary: Something's up with Spencer and Derek shows up at his door. The couple has their first fight.

Content Warning(s): Heated arguing

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When the sun peeked through the windows it landed on the bed next to me, my arms clinging to sheets and empty space.

Spencer was not there anymore. 

Although I hadn't expected it to be the same as before, I was surprised to find the nothingness. The bed wasn't even warm, a sign he hadn't been there in some time.

Trying not to panic, I managed to slip on leggings and pack up my things. I wasn't even sure what I would do if he wasn't here. Before I would have loved the opportunity to get to snoop, but now it just felt dreadful to be here without him.

Luckily, it wasn't too hard to find him. I rounded the corner, spotting him curled up on his couch with his head resting against his arm. He looked miserable, the bags under his eyes visible despite his being asleep.

The alarms in my mind were blaring, and I begged them to be quiet. My heart was breaking with each step he didn't wake up. Left with no other choice, I placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, hoping not to spook him with a lighter touch.

He immediately stirred awake, seemingly surprised that he had fallen asleep in the first place.

"Spencer, are you alright?" I asked as I got down on my knees in front of him, meeting his height as he sat up.

"What time is it?" He ignored my question.

"9:30," I replied patiently, my hands resting on his knee. "Why are you out here?"

His hands ran over his face like it would answer my question. I wasn't giving up, though, continuing my questions until he answered at least one of them.

"Did you have another nightmare? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Just shut up," he snapped, and I actually jumped at the words.

"I-I'm sorry," my voice shook as I watched the guilt wash over him. My hands dropped from his lap and my body shrunk into itself. "I didn't mean to—"

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it's not you. I just— I couldn't sleep." Like that wasn't fucking obvious. I felt terrible but I didn't know how to reach him like this.

He had to let me.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Something happened in the pause between us. Spencer's eyes met mine, and I felt the way he was tugging at my heart.

His tongue swept over his lips, contemplating whether I was safe to share this unknown weight with. His mouth barely opened, a sharp inhale that usually precedes catharsis.

I never got my answer.

The knocking on the door was more like an insistent banging, with a very worried male voice on the other side.

"Reid, it's Morgan. Is your phone broken? Where you at, man?"

Spencer hadn't looked this rattled in all the time I'd known him - not even when he'd found out he was hanging out with a criminal (me).

"Oh, shit," he hissed, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me away from the couch. "Shit, (y/n), go to my room."

"What? Who is that?" I whispered back, looking back at the door as the man continued to knock.