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: mentions of suicide, alcohol consumption.
(small time jump)
Five AA meetings down, and dozens to go. You enjoy them - you do- they're a big motivation to keep you going. You haven't had many urges this week, but it isn't Friday yet, and that's when they usually roll around. You over-worry about the situation, although it is very common for urges to skyrocket during the weekend.
When the weekend comes around, you avoid spending your time alone in your apartment. Therefore, you spend it with Reid. You see one another every day yet claim you don't spend enough time together. So overall, it's a win win situation.
As you move throughout your apartment- grabbing a breakfast bar and munching on it- you call Reid, hoping he'll answer. He always does, but you worry he won't. Every single time.
The phone rings and after a few, he picks up.
"Hey, how are you?" He asks, his voice soft.
You finish chewing, swallowing down the bar afterwards. "I'm uh," you pause. "My urges are low right now, but maybe it's because I'm not under a lot of stress."
"That's good, that's really good," he replies.
You murmur a "mhm" and continue your way to your room. You open your closet and begin scrambling through to find an outfit. "Hey Reid what shirt should I wear? Red tank top with a blazer or blue V-neck long sleeve?"
"I- uhm," he hesitates. "Red tank top and blazer."
"Thanks," you say as you take out your black blazer, red tank top and black pants combination. You then nip over to your dresser and pull out the first drawer, taking out a pair of rose panties and a matching bra.
"So, how did you sleep? Have you ate?"
You roll your eyes lightheartedly as you put your phone on speaker, placing it on your bed so you can begin changing. "I slept okay, and I did. A breakfast bar."
You pull down your pants and underwear, throwing them across the room into your hamper. You then take your underwear and slide them on, quickly running over to your dresser to grab your lotion.
He sighs, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. "Do you want me to bring you any food? I just don't want you to be hungry."
"No, I'm good. Thank you though," you say.
You take your shirt off as well and throw it into your hamper, the bawled piece of clothing almost missing the hamper. You then clasp on your bra and lather your skin with lotion, making sure it's all smoothed out before putting on your tank top.
"Do you need me to pick you up?" He asks.
You shake your head, stopping after a second due to his inability to see your gesture. "No, i'm taking the metro."
