Ever since Y/N joined the bau, Reid has found a way to make her life a living hell. He doesn't understand her nor wants to, not until he overhears a conversation which makes him think otherwise. She isn't a quiet, genius FBI agent, she has problems...
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warnings: hint to an alcohol addiction. {pls no comments about y/n being like strauss, alcoholism is a real thing, it isn't fiction.}
The doors to the elevator open and you step out, your heels clacking against the floor. You open the glass doors and walk in, everyone sitting in their desks per usual.
As soon as you reach your desk, you feel a tall presence behind you. You stop in your stance and turn your head around, smiling at the towering Luke behind you.
"Hi," you say, "You okay?"
By the way he looked at you with stern eyes, something was wrong. You never resolved the problem that happened between you before you left to New York with Reid. You forgot about the whole ordeal, your mind pushing it into one of the crevices in your brain.
"Can I talk to you?" he asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He glances up and down your body, his eyes finally resting on yours.
You fully turn around, your eyes bouncing from him to Reid, who was sitting across from you. "Yeah, yeah," you twitch a smile, patting your hands on your black pencil skirt.
He turned over and walked towards a hallway, opening the door to an empty office. You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, your heart beating rapidly as he closes the door behind you.
"How are you?" he queries, "I know you went to see your parents."
You began to ask yourself if he knew Reid was the one that accompanied you. He wasn't there and neither were you, so did they just connect the dots? They weren't stupid. So they obviously knew.
"Did Prentiss ask you to come talk to me?" you scoff.
He shifts in his stance, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, "No. I wanted to ask because I care," he says in an annoyed tone.
Your eyes wander around the room in embarrassment, "Right. Sorry," you pause. "I'm...okay. Parents aren't dead," you joke, letting out a fake laugh. Your joke didn't sit well with him by the way his eyebrows scrunched together, his lips pulling together in a thin line.
"Y/N you do know it's okay to express how you feel. When something as traumatic as this is happening and you avoid your emotions-"
"The situation becomes worse and you delay recovery. Yes, I know. Thank you for trying to help though," you say defensively, folding your arms over your chest. Luke was trying to help, but the sudden anger that flooded into your body was hard to stop. You wanted to speak to him softly and take his advice, but some part of your brain wasn't allowing you to.
"Sorry," you say, "Just a little off, you know."
He moves in closer to you and wraps his arms around your petite body, his chin resting on your head. "I'm here for you princesa. You're my friend, and I care about my friends."
