the number

22.9K 662 2.6K

Your alarm wakes you out of a deep sleep, and you jolt awake, groaning softly as you turn over in bed

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Your alarm wakes you out of a deep sleep, and you jolt awake, groaning softly as you turn over in bed. You hit the stop button before sitting up, wiping your eyes as you yawn. You sit still for a minute before slinging your legs over the bed, groggily walking into the bathroom. You pee and wash your hands before starting your shower, taking off your pajamas and throwing them in your hamper.

The water is nice and hot, and you shampoo your hair, massaging it into your scalp. The smell of juniper and bergamot fills your nose, and you sigh at the familiar scent. You rinse the shampoo before conditioning, washing your body while the conditioner sets. You let the hot water run over your body, watching the soap run down the drain. You close your eyes as you wash the conditioner from your hair.

You walk out of the shower, still feeling half-asleep, drying off. You moisturize before walking to your closet, rifling through your clothes. You choose a white button up, throwing a black sweater over it, the collar of your shirt poking out from underneath the sweater. You pull on a pair of high-waist jeans, pulling on your Converse to go with it.

You walk back into the bathroom, glancing at yourself before putting on some mascara, blush, and some lip gloss. You put your glasses on your nose, pushing them up to where they're comfortable. You give yourself a once over before you walk back into your room, grabbing your phone and your bag. You put on a beanie before walking out of your room. Passing through your kitchen, you grab your keys before setting on your route to the coffee shop. It's cold for early November, and you shiver as you walk, adjusting the beanie on your head.

It's been two weeks since you've seen Spencer. You know he works for the FBI, so he's probably doing some important FBI related things. You grip the strap of your bag as you walk to the metro, yawning again. Fuck, you need caffeine. It's looking like an extra shot of espresso kind of day.

You get onto the metro, the train seeming extra busy this morning. You lean back against your seat, your eyes shutting for a few moments. You yawn again, silently cursing yourself for staying awake so late. You'd been editing your dissertation. In two weeks, you'd gone up twenty thousand words. You're proud of yourself. You open your eyes, checking your watch, grateful that you still have a few hours until class starts. You glance around the train, noticing the people with their heads stuck in books, or phones, or glancing out the window.

The train comes to a stop, and you stand up, gripping your bag as you walk out of the train and up the steps of the metro. You squint as the sunlight comes into view, taking a right off the metro and heading to the coffee shop. You could fucking sing with joy as you step into the shop, the aromatic scent of coffee and muffins filling your nose.

You grin as you walk up to the barista, pulling your wallet out. "Hey, Liz. My usual, please. Extra shot today."

Liz grins, tapping on her POS. "Three seventy-five."

You hand her your card, and she swipes it before handing it back to you. You push it back into your wallet before turning around, settling at a table in the corner. You take off your bag, letting it rest at your feet. You pull out your laptop and open it, your dissertation laid out in front of you. Sighing, you look at where you left off, your head already starting to hurt.

Delicate [spencer reid x reader] ✔️Where stories live. Discover now