Fine Line [ spencer reid x reader ] ✔️

TWENTY THREE

warnings: mentions of alcohol addiction

There are some things a person grows accustomed to the more they keep happening. It's almost like a routine—the more it keeps happening, the more someone gets used to it. They get caught up in the moments, unaware that their life is actually very subtly changing over time.

That's how Spencer feels every morning when he wakes up with Y/n in his arms. It's become a routine with them. It's like they can't stay away from each other. It's been two weeks since the last case, and every night, Y/n has slept over. And every night, she falls asleep in Spencer's arms.

This morning isn't any different. He wakes up first, blinking as his vision adjusts to the morning light peeping through his curtains. He looks down at a sleeping Y/n, her head pressed against his chest, her right arm lazily wrapped around his torso. Her breathing is even, her face peaceful. Spencer runs his fingers through her hair softly, not wanting to wake her. She needs all the sleep she can get.

He leans forward, pressing his lips softly against her forehead before leaning his head back against the pillow. His fingers trail up and down her arm slowly, barely brushing against the skin. This is peaceful. Calm. He could stay forever in moments like these.

Spencer feels her move, her arm stretching for a few seconds before settling back on his stomach. Her eyes flutter open, a small groan leaving her before she looks up at Spencer. A small smile tugs at her lips, and Spencer returns it.

"Morning," she mumbles, burying her face back into his chest.

Spencer gives a raspy laugh. "Morning, angel."

"I don't wanna get up." Her words are muffled by his chest.

Spencer's fingers trace random patterns around her arm. "We technically don't have to. It's Saturday. No work."

"Good," she mumbles.

Spencer's hands move to her hair, running his fingers through it softly. Her fingers run across his side absent-mindedly. It tickles, but Spencer doesn't say anything. He twirls her hair around his fingers, and she lifts her head up, resting her chin on his chest.

"Thanks for letting me stay over so much," she whispers.

"I like it when you stay," he replies, his voice just as soft as hers.

She looks up at him, eyes searching his face. Spencer smiles at her, leaning forward, pressing another kiss against her forehead. He pulls away and a lazy smile pulls at her lips before she pulls back, groaning as she gets up. Spencer watches as she walks into his bathroom, and he sits up, stretching. His feet hit the floor and he follows her into the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush.

He brushes his teeth, watching her every so often as she tries to fix her hair. Afterward, he leaves her to brush hers, walking into his closet to pull on a sweater. It's always cold in Spencer's apartment—he likes the cold. It seems extra cold this morning, though. Slipping on the sweater, he turns around, watch Y/n emerge from his bathroom. He laughs as she grabs his hand, pulling him back onto his bed.