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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 5 months

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Gryfflepuff in the Tardis' Masterlist

All my Works, characters are colored by which Hogwarts House I think they're in. I am a Primary Hufflepuff, Secondary Gryffindor and I genuinely think Hufflepuff is the best and most underrated house.

Ninth Doctor - Brooding Time Lord Who Tries To Hide His Light with Darkness

Supernova Series/Season One Masterlist (Ninth Doctor/Tenth Doctor) (Delilah "Lillie" Tyler/Princess Supernova played by Katherine Langford)

Tenth Doctor - Hyperactive Time Lord Who Is Always Being Slapped Born From His Love For a Human Who Tries To Hide His Darkness and Trauma With Light

Campbell Bain - Bipolar Nineteen-Year-Old Walking Ray of Sunshine That Somehow Doesn't Do Well With Girls

Sweet Jane Masterlist (19-year-old Campbell Bain x 18-year-old Traumatized Reader)

Metacrisis Doctor/TenToo (My Headcanon is that he chose the surname "Noble")

Fourteenth Doctor - The Face That Returned, now arguably more Hyperactive and Traumatized

Alec Hardy (Broadchurch) - Grumpy and Broody Scottish Detective With a Heart Condition yet a Heart of Gold (Doesn't Know He's a DILF)

Emmet Carver (Gracepoint) - The American Version of Alec

Crowley (Good Omens) - A Hyperactive Drama Queen "Vaguely Sauntered Downward" Angel Turned Only Demon with an Imagination

Barty Crouch Junior - The (Possibly Bipolar) Misunderstood Boy Who Never Got His Father's Love and Was Manipulated By Voldemort (I think I read that he was actually a Ravenclaw but I do see a lot of Hufflepuff in him, his insistence of a fair fight and honesty and loyalty)

Peter Vincent (Fright Night) - Hyperactive Alcoholic Magician/Vampire Hunter with a Heart of Gold

Dave Tiler (Single Dad) — The sweetheart dad with too many children with so much love in his heart who fate was so cruel to.

Kilgrave (I've never seen Jessica Jones, I just feel like with him having the same accent and looks the same, it might ruin David Tennant's Doctor for me, and I love David Tennant as the Doctor.)

Cale Erendreich (Bad Samarian; Haven't Seen This Either)

Steve Harrington (Stranger Things) - The Hair; Nomenee for Mother of the Year

Embers In the Sky (Domnique "Nico" Henderson played Georgie Henley; Alex Henderson played by David Tennant)

Killer Queen (Cassandra "Cassie Dare" Henderson played by Zoey Deutch; Pan Henderson played by David Tennant)

Trauma (Emilie Henderson played by Hailee Steinfeld)

Devil Town (Imogen Henderson played by Katherine Langford)

Isaac Lahey (Teen Wolf) - The Abused Puppy With a Heart of Gold Who Only Wanted the Power to Defend Himself and To Not Be Scared

Embers in the Sky Season One (Milo Stilinski played by Katherine Langford)

Embers in the Sky Season Two

Embers in the Sky Season Three

Embers in the Sky Season Four

Embers in the Sky Season Five

Embers in the Sky Season Six

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) - The Genius Pretty Boy

Valentía (Zoe Noble-Valdez played by Selena Gomez)

Braveheart (OFC played by Karen Gillan)

Raymond Wadsworth

Chip Taylor

Kyle Orfman

Lesley Juniment-Smith

Fred Weasley

(All of these are Potter!sister!OCs, most of them are of Harry Potter's twin sister)

The Girl Who Lived (Sadie Sink as OC) (Need of a rewrite. Her name was Violet but since then my cousin had a baby daughter who he named Violet so I'm changing this character's name. I just can't write original characters with names of people I know. It's a rule of mine.)

North Star/Falling Star (Metamorphmagus!Cassiopea Potter played by Katherine Langford) (May change the name to Vega Potter)

The Twins Who Lived (Georgie Henley as Currently Unnamed OC)

Embers in the Sky (Emberly "Ember" Potter Played by Caitlin Blackwood/Karen Gillan) She is also the face claim I maintain of Lily Evans/Potter. (Caitlin Blackwood played young Amelia Pond in Doctor Who and is Karen Gillan's real life cousin.)

Yes, there are a lot of David Tennant characters. I don't want to write for the actor himself, I just feel a little creepy doing that. In my numerous Steve Harrington fics, the more recent ones (The OC is always Dustin's older sister, except in one) I think he is the best Doctor and I think he should officially be titled as the biggest Doctor Who Fan ever. (He became an actor because of Doctor Who, he says he thinks he underplays how much he loved Doctor Who, he became the first regenerated Doctor and the first one to last more than one season on the revived Doctor Who, he met his future father-in-law, like a year before he met his wife, Ty Tennant, Georgia's oldest son and David's now adopted son, in 2008, considered the Tenth to be his favorite, and hilariously, his grandfather was nowhere on the five-year-old's list--then David Tennant met Georgia (at the time) Moffat on the set of Doctor Who as she, the daughter of the Fifth Doctor, played the daughter of the Tenth Doctor, I heard that David Tennant met Ty on the set, and according the Peter Davidson, Georgia didn't even realize that he liked her when they started going out (apparently he was offended when she said she hadn't seen any Shakespeare), then David Tennant counts as the unofficial twelfth regeneration (there was the War Doctor who the Doctors deem as not worthy of having the name of the Doctor), then he adopted Ty Tennant and married Georgia; he returned for the 50th and 60th anniversary (and I hope he never stops returning), now is the Fourteenth Doctor, that's three official regenerations, and Good Omens is full of Doctor Who references. I don't think anyone can beat him for the biggest Doctor Who fan. His life like revolves around Doctor Who in a way that every fanboy/fangirl dreams of.

I have created an OC to be the Henderson!OC and Dustin's father and I always choose David Tennant, he just really gives off protective I-will-kill-anyone-who-hurts-you dad vibe and I have a soft spot for an overprotective dad for his daughter (I never had that. My dad wanted a boy--granted the disapproval that's implied is possibly because my mom told me this--and he is ADHD and was always sleeping and then he moved two towns over which was an hour's drive but seemed longer in my ADHD mind but so he could sleep and I could play video games on the Xbox that's memory wouldn't save the game so I continuously had to start over. Oh, and also, there's the fact that a TV fell on me when I was five/six because I didn't understand gravity and I locked myself in the dryer when I was seven/eight. What, is that not normal? 🙄) I'm not a big crier but a father that's willing to do anything for his daughter is your best bet. Sorry for this rant.

*(Can't pinpoint what house Alec Hardy and therefore Emmet Carver would be in, the only blog I've found on it, discussed how he may be a burnt Hufflepuff (just google it, it'll send you to the tumble immediately) but hiscusses his desperation in season two suggests Gryffindor, also implying his ignoring of his heart condition but he's aware that he has it, so he's gone to the hospital and he takes pills, he's just aware that the doctors told him that he may not survive his surgery to have the pacemaker put in and he feels like he owes it to the families to get the closure they deserve, so it doesn't strike me as impulsive but more dedicated, determined, and "unafraid of toil". Then the blog argues that his need to protect people he views as in his care and how he related to the Sandbrooke case as Slytherin but I don't see that. I think perhaps a "Burned Hufflepuff" is accurate.*

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ssahopelessly · 2 years

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So, a Wedding?

Synopsis: She had the invitation for nearly three months, but that doesn't mean she would've taken the time to find a proper date. So instead, two weeks before the wedding, she has to ask the only coworker she can think of to attend her friends wedding.

A/N: Let’s pretend Lesley Smith-Juniment is Spencer Reid because it was filmed a little after S9! Anyway, this piece in particular is the fastest (1 week) I have worked on one solid piece and the longest oneshot I have written so far. Please give it a read!

Warnings: taking your coworker to a wedding, mutual pining, awkwardness, anxiety, sharing food, first dance, first kiss, friend from college wedding

Word Count: 7.9k

Masterlist

“Hey Spencer?”

“Yeah?” Looking over at him, his eyes were on me from where he sat at his desks. My words were getting caught in my throat, a mix of anxiety and dread.

“Would you-“ they died there. The thing I needed to get out. Funny enough, if he would just look on the surface of my desk, he would see this dread materialised, in the physical form of a wedding invitation.

“What is it?” Forcing myself to look away from him, I closed my eyes and hoped the words would tumble out.

“Would you want to go to a wedding with me?” With one eye open, I spared a glance at him, the same time the sunlight chose to shine into our office, casting him in a near perfect holy light, a radiant aura around him. The rays caught in his brunette hair, almost giving him a halo. None of this was helping the other thing I was fighting deep down.

His expression though was one I rarely saw from him. Eyebrows raised, breath caught in his nose, he leaned back in his chair, looking at his desk then me. “A wedding?”

“Forget it.” Pushing against the desk surface, I rose from my seat and made my way over to the breakroom in hopes of getting coffee, but also to escape the environment I had just created. But I could hear his steps behind me, pausing at the breakroom entrance.

“Do you want to go?” Spencer’s voice hitched towards the end, being careful with his question, probably fearful I may take off again. “Who’s wedding is it?”

“A friend from college. Her name is Alexis and she’s marrying her high school sweetheart and…” he had moved closer into the break room, leaving a table between us where I was still at the counter making my coffee. But his eyes were comforting, encouraging the answer from me.

“And?”

“She’s expecting me to bring a date and I just- don’t want to make it awkward between us.”

“I’ll go with you, if you want me to.”

“I do, but I don’t want you to feel weird or think of it like a date or that you have to go with me.” I watched as his eyes shifted to the ground, his shoulders slumping in a way. Was it something I said? Was he doing this to be nice? I didn’t want him to step out of his comfort zone. “Like, we’re just friends, going to a wedding.” A small smile formed at the corner of his lips. “Just friends.” I reaffirmed one more time.

“When is it?” Spencer had looked back up to me, lower lip between his teeth. I tried to think of the invitation with the date back on my desk, offering my best rough guess of when it would be.

“In two weeks?”

“Can I ask where?” There was an entertained smile on his lips now, Spencer opting to put his fingers into the pockets of his pants.

“Some winery in Leesburg.” With his head nodding, he straightened up, looked the breakroom over one time, and offered me a smile.

“Okay.” There was a rush of activity outside of the breakroom, visible to me through the window that looked into the bullpen. “It looks like there’s a case.” He voiced the thought we both had at the commotion, a common occurrence in the office. I stirred the coffee one last time before electing to take the mug with me to the roundtable room.

“What are you wearing?” He was breathless when he appeared behind me, trying to carry both his messenger bag and his go-bag.

“A gun.” I looked at him from the corner of my eye, eventually stopping to move beside him so we could walk together.

“Ohmygod-“ he brought a hand up to his face, trying to conceal the wave of embarrassment he just endured. “No, I meant to the wedding.” He was trying to laugh it off, but I was kind of enjoying seeing him flounder like this.

“Oh. Well, it’s at a winery so I was thinking about this ruby-ish dress I found at this boutique the other day. Or even this light pink dress I never wore from last summer. Why?” The team was several feet ahead and behind us, so my fear that they would nose their way into our weekend plans was significantly decreased, especially considering how tired we all were after this last case. The whole ride home everyone just voiced their wishes about wanting to go home.

“Well I was just trying to plan what I should wear.”

“Are you thinking of wearing a suit?” It would be hot with the weather in a suit, but Spencer always looked particularly nice and sharp in one of his suits, walking around the office or station. He would still have a cardigan with him, but Blake was starting to encourage him to wear just the suits. Both looks complimented him though.

“Probably, but then I might want to buy a new one.” I spared a glance over at him, one eyebrow raised at his remark. Was he wanting to buy a special suit for the wedding? Were none of his suits in his wardrobe good enough for this?

“Why?”

“Well do you want me to wear one of the suits I wear into the field? One of the very suits I wear around dead victims and everything?” The pieces clicked in my head, how overall grim the context would be. ‘Hi, meet my coworker who yes, is wearing the same suit he wore to the murder house the other month.’

“Okay so maybe buy a new suit.” We both started to laugh as we entered the bureau office building, his arm reaching beside me to hold the door open for me. “Do you want me to send you a picture of the dress when I get home?”

“If you don’t mind. That would be really helpful.”

“I will. And let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

“I will. Thank you.” He gave me one of the smiles that had the strength to make me stumble in my step, forget all reason, and for my breath to stall as it often did around him. But I also had to remember we had to stay friends. That now was NOT the time, nor was it ever, for me to be crushing on my coworker.

Thirty minutes before Spencer was supposed to pick me up from my apartment, my phone started to ring from where it was charging beside my bed. “Hello?” I answered, slightly concerned with why he was calling this early.

“Hey, I’m parking at your place right now.”

“Oh! I mean- Spencer, I'm not ready.”

“Oh-“

“Like you can come sit and wait for me inside instead of running your car for that long but I’m still working on my makeup and hair.”

“No, I- I don’t want to invade your space like that.”

“Spencer I’m leaving my front door unlocked. Come up when you’re ready.” Shaking my head, I had to laugh at the both of us. I should’ve expected him to run early like this, but the nerves of spending the whole day with him like this had made me ignore this one part of the plan.

Twisting the deadbolt from the frame, I ran back to my room, not really wanting Spencer to see me in only one of my satin mini robes, not today of all days. But surely, as I had made it back to safety in my room and locked my bedroom door, the apartment door at the bottom of the stairs suddenly opened. “Hey! It’s just me.” He called up to me. “I’m locking your door again.”

“Thank you!” I called back to him, a smile forming on my lips. I was giddy as I applied the final touches of makeup and placed the last pin to my hair, quick to step into my dress and heels. I kept the jewellery light, but also intentional in placing a ring to my ring finger but on my right hand and a ring to my middle finger on the left. Was I doing it for him? Perhaps, but how would he know? A few sprays of perfume and one last twirl in front of the mirror, I was mostly satisfied with how I looked, knowing that if it got too hot at the winery, it would almost be all for nothing. Taking my purse from the bench at the end of my bed, I exited my room and tried to keep my composure as I descended the stairs. “Spencer!” I called into the lower level. “I’m ready to go if you-“ but within the last ten steps of the staircase, I saw him waiting for me just at the landing, “- are.”

“You look beautiful.” Were his first words to me in person for the day, and I tried to fight the butterflies in my stomach.

“Thank you. And you look-“ don’t say anything that’s too much. Compliment him but don’t scare him off, “you look charming.” Charmimg? Like Prince Charming?! Real smooth. But he did look charming. He chose to forego one of his usual dark toned or black suits for a light grey suit.

“Thank you. I showed the tailor the picture of your dress and he recommended this but he also,” reaching a hand into his suit jacket, he pulled a neatly rolled bundle of fabric from a pocket, “found this tie that he hoped would match your dress. In case I wanted to class it up a bit more.” Taking a step closer to him to look at the tie colour, I placed a hand near his.

“Well let’s see.” I pulled our hands, holding the tie, closer to my dress to see not only were the colours identical but nearly the same material. I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach again, the same way I tried to ignore how he tensed and stopped breathing at my touch. Then I remembered why he must’ve done so. “Oh, I’m sorry. You don’t like physical touch like that.” I started rambling, a blush rising to my cheeks as I looked to the floor.

“We’ve been coworkers for three years, two months, and 18 days. It doesn’t bother me as much.”

“Well I shouldn’t have just touched you like that, I’m sorry.”

“I promise you, I don’t mind.” As his eyes moved down my face, I had to look away, still slightly embarrassed from my action. Clearing his throat, he spoke up again. “Actually, do you have a mirror I can use? I would like to put this on before we leave.”

“Uh yeah, just under the stairs right here.” I led him toward the half bath where I had a mirror on the back of the door.

“Thank you. It should only take me a minute.”

“Take your time Spencer, we have a few minutes.” He had to close the door to fully use the mirror, which was good for me. I needed to quickly recollect my cool. “Actually I’m going to get something to drink real quick.” I didn’t wait for his response as I entered my kitchen, just further down the hall. There was a half full bottle of coke in the fridge from the other night that I didn’t hesitate to open, careful to drink it without ruining my lip balm. By the time I had taken a few sips though, he had found me, standing on the other side of the kitchen island from me.

“How do I look?” The tie was perfectly centered on his neck, the collar of his shirt pulled over it just right.

“Still charming.” I downed the rest of my drink before resealing it, putting the bottle into the recycle bin.

“Oh, I actually got you something.”

“Spencer?!” He walked over to the sitting area, where to my surprise a gift bag had been sitting on one of the couch cushions. “You didn’t-“

“I know but,” he looked down at the bag in his hands then back to me, “I just really wanted to.” A little speculative now, I placed my fingers through the string handles of the gift bag, taking it from him. Pulling the tissue paper from the top layer, I surely saw what looked like the shape of a mug, wrapped in tissue paper.

“Spencer, did you get me a mug?”

“Just open it.” he insisted, his hands patiently folded in front of him. Careful to unwrap it without dropping it, I placed the tissue paper and bag on the counter surface next to me. With the mug fully unwrapped, I noticed how it was a colour almost resemblant of my birthstone. I turned it around to see the design on the side. It was a collection of stars, that with closer inspection wrapped the whole side of the mug.

“Thank you.” The air had been pressed from my lungs at how simple but effective the mug really was.

“It’s uhm- it was supposed to be your gift for three years at the BAU- but something happened and it didn’t show up for like a week later.”

“That’s so nice Spencer.”

“And the stars, well the stars are the same constellations that would’ve been in the night sky of your first day.” My lungs hadn’t refilled just yet, or maybe they had but forgot how to expel air from them.

“Spencer-“ I didn’t know what more to say, because the mug was clearly more meaningful than I could’ve once believed. “I… I don’t know what to say!”

“Well, be sure to thank Penelope. She helped me order it for you without knowing.”

“Will do.” I walked it over to the cabinet where I kept all my mugs, placing it just at the edge of the shelf, to be one of the first mugs I would reach for, before closing the door on it.

“Should we leave now?”

“Yes, of course.” He moved to walk in front of me, in an attempt to get the apartment door open for me before I elected to say one more thing. “Can you- uhm, go get the car started? I want to make sure my apartment is ready to be left alone for the day.”

“Sure. You know what my car looks like right?”

“Yeah, Spencer I park near it most of the week.”

“Right.” A smile was present on his lips as he looked to the floor, nodding to himself before dipping out of my apartment. Running up the stairs, I made sure everything in my room was off and that the same was to be said for downstairs. Once I was satisfied with that, I quickly punched in my security alarm before leaving the place. On my front doorstep, I walked down the sidewalk to look for his car, quickly finding it, and him, standing next to the passenger door for me.

We arrived at the venue about forty minutes before the wedding service even started, giving us plenty of time to make our way into the venue at our own pace. But once we even entered the foyer, we were met with a few members of the wedding party, handing out the ceremony favours.

“Here is your folding fan, bag of confetti, and the parasol. The confetti we ask you save until the send off and the parasol is only to be used outside.” The girl handed the gifts to me, probably because I had the invitation in my hand. And the joy radiating from her face was bright, telling me she was probably a sorority sister from Alexis’ time at college.

“Oh, is it possible we get another parasol?” I asked, trying to keep the three souveneirs and invitation balanced in one hand.

“Unfortunately we only have enough parasols for every couple, not individuals. But I’m sure your boyfriend won’t mind sharing.”

“Oh! He’s not-“ I turned to look at Spencer, the color running to my face.

“Yeah, I’m not…” His eyes were searching mine for an answer, but as two profilers, we both seemed lost on the matter.

“We’re just coworkers.” I regretted the term the moment I said it. It seemed so distant and cold, like this was a last minute inconveniece. And while it was last minute, surely bringing my coworker (who I may or may not have a crush on) to a wedding, it surely is not an inconvenience. So I took the favors, passed the parasol to Spencer while I tried to fit the confetti into the small crossbody purse that I had brought with me, and we proceeded further into the venue. I was surprised to see that there was a path of singular-rose filled vases lining the pathway that was surely meant to take us to the seating area for the ceremony.

“So how did you meet her again?” Spencer asked beside me, looking aroundto take in the details of our surroundings.

“She’s uh, she’s a friend from college. One of my old roommates actually.” He nodded as we came upon a large photo arch. At the bottom of each side of the arch, are photos of them as babies. The sides then rising, photos aging with the pictured child and then teen, then adult, until it meets the curve, and on both sides the photos are a mix of photos of the couple. The framed photo, at the top center of the arch, is their engagement photo, them holding hands with the ring on display, kissing behind their hands.

“So she’s, just another student.” I could hear the undertone of petty energy in his words though he was fully joking, turning to look at him in full.

“Spencer, earlier- I didn’t.”

“It’s fine.” Was all he had to add, a smile pushing his cheeks up. “I know.” We both gave the arch one more look. “And how did she meet him?”

“High school sweethearts.” His mouth fell open like it often did when the last piece of evidence was introduced and he was piecing together how it all fit. But once again, Spencer was quick to step in front of me, holding the door open for me as he also opened the parasol so I wouldn’t step directly into the sun.

“Shall we?”

“I can hold the parasol Spencer.”

“It’s no problem. Promise.” The smile he offered now was one of pure genuine delight. Like if he could, he would hold the parasol for me the whole time. But he didn’t have to, and I wouldn’t allow it.

We found our spots on her side of the aisle, noticing how they seemed to fit all of the chairs, aisle, and altar under two of the largest trees on the property. It was a bit of a walk from the venue house to the location of the ceremony, but once you were seated, it was quite a view. The altar was centered between the trees but even behind that, the roll of the vineyard fields began, offering a look out to the horizon line, a mountain range in the distance offering an expansive backdrop. “You still want to hold that parasol?” We were under the trees like I said, and while the sun was still very much in the sky, for now the branches were blocking a good portion of the sunlight from creating too hot of an air. Shaking his head, he collapsed the parasol down, resting it between our chairs as we settled into our seats. There was about twenty minutes before anyone would walk down the aisle, and as easy as it was to make conversation on the jet, I couldn’t seem to think of anything to talk about with him.

“Do you want to get married someday?” The question pulled me out of my thoughts instantly.

“What?”

“Like would you want a big ceremony like this?”

“Uhm, probably not. Not during the late summer at least.”

“Because of the weather right?”

“Yeah. Like I always imagined an inside venue but even then, probably winter or spring.”

“Why not fall?”

“Not all of us have an affinity for fall Spencer.” The words looked like they landed harsher than I intended, his head dropping a little as he looked away. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” His head was still hung low and now I wondered if there was anything I could do or say that would repair any damage I had suddenly created.

“No, I mean. I’m sorry I’m being weird. I mean I feel like I’m being weird. I just-“ I closed my eyes to try and catch my breath and the train of thought that ran with it, but his hand was suddenly on my knee, squeezing the skin and the muscle underneath. Looking back over at him, it was one of his smiles that took over one corner more than the other.

“It’s okay.”

“Is it?” My hand joined his now, resting atop the surface while my knee also came to a stop. I didn’t realise it was bouncing out of nerves, but he seemed to have noticed. “I’m sorry.” I said again out of impulse.

“You don’t have to apologise.” For a moment I hoped he got it. For a moment, I hoped he felt the same way about me that I felt about him. That the secret pining wasn’t one sided. For a moment… “Seeing old friends that we haven’t seen in multiple years can bring up old memories and strong emotions.” And the moment of hope was gone in his one sentence. And I couldn’t be mad at him. Spencer Reid was doing what he did best, finding the logic in a situation to explain the difficulties in hopes that it would make those around him comfortable.

“You’re right.” I squeezed his hand a final time before letting it go, forcing myself to look away from him.

The ceremony of Alexis and James carried on without a hitch. The bridesmaids wore the softest form of blush pink, in dresses that best fit each bridesmaid, unique in style from one to the other. The groomsmen though were indistinguishable from the other, all wearing black suits with black bow ties, hands folded in front of the other in nearly the same manner. Spencer wondered in his head if they were all models or fraternity brothers together. But in the end it didn’t matter. The whole party was glamorous and picture perfect in a way that seemed almost unattainable . With Spencer to her left, she didn’t have much time to glance over at him during the ceremony, her focus never once wavering from the altar. She wouldn’t miss seeing Alexis get married to James, not even a singular second. But, despite the organised beauty of the spectacle before them, Spencer couldn’t stop sneaking glances at (Y/N). Even in the moments he wasn’t looking at her, when he was looking at the couple at the altar, he could only think of standing up there with her. Even if he didn’t get his way, and she would have them get married in the cold of winter inside a church or the golden hour of spring in a field of flowers, Spencer wondered what her dress would look like.

Spencer had spent the last three years having his little fantasies of (Y/N). They were only ever of simple things. Like holding her hand on the jet, asking her out to dinner on a date. Being able to go home with her at the end of a case and the lovely little domestic life they might lead in an apartment of their own. There were very few girls he had felt that sense of forever with, but with her, he could feel it down to the very nucleus of the cells that composed him in every way. He wanted a forever with her, but the fear held him back. The fear that she may not feel the same, that she in turn may only think of him within the office walls. When she thought of forever, was he even in the picture?

For just a moment though, he couldn’t be bothered with thoughts of forever. Because for once, he had now. Now, where she was next to him under the large trees of this vineyard. Now, where they didn’t have to be agents and professionals. Now, where they only had to be themselves and keep each other company during the events of a wedding. For now, he could let his mind relax and just be present in the moment.

The reception would be held in the same building we had initially entered through. The newlyweds and party were off taking photos so while we waited for them there was an open bar or as we were encouraged to call it “cocktail hour”. And while I had never seen Spencer drink any sort of drink or cocktail in the few years I worked with him, he chose to drink a glass of wine, which I think he only took maybe three sips of before we were all being ushered into the dining hall for the reception.

I never quite understood the science of how decorations, especially those at a wedding, could match one’s personality but walking into the room proved another testament to that. When it came to Alexis, there was a certain level of whimsy and fantasy that surrounded her, so it was not strange to find she had found a way to make fairy lights travel up the walls and across the ceiling to form a canopy over this celebration. Instead of multiple tables dotted throughout the space, she went for a few rows of tables, forcing everyone to be surrounded by the other. It was almost in a way to make everyone not feel left out or separate from other parties, to make sure everyone felt included and connected, if not for just the common thread similarity where everyone in the room had to know the couple. But even the decorations on the tables carried an element of her personality. Candles sitting in glass fixtures with more fairy lights strung through and in between them while blush pink petals decorated the surface. It was something out of a fairytale dream sequence, but it was something that surely made you think “this is her wedding.”

Spencer and I found our assigned spot on the end of the table that also made us close to the sole table that ran perpendicular to the rest of us. That table in particular was for the couple and their party and family members. And suddenly the lights over the room dimmed, and the reception was starting.

Her parents were the first to be introduced, followed by James’ parents. The wedding party entered, with the best man and maid of honour following behind. It was only then, as they were holding hands, I realised they were in fact also dating. It made me wonder how they met, how if helping each respective person of the wedding had strained either couple but ultimately, how they all came to know each other. Did they too crush over their coworker for over three years and not do a single thing about the matter in hopes to keep things professional. Did their feelings for the other consume them from inside before they could call the other theirs or were their own feelings so consuming that they were bursting at the seams, so that the other knew already. After them though, Alexis and James finally entered.

Alexis had notably changed from her altar dress to a different ensemble. Where the dress was a lovely white, the lace of the bodice almost as white as a cloud, her reception outfit appeared to have a pearl sheen to it. The skirt that flowed from the waistline notably poured from the sides and the back, the front of it cut away so you could see the fact that this ensemble offered her pants to give it a more high fashioned look. Despite the fact that she had an aura of fantasy and whimsy, it would not be Alexis if she was not also making a statement.

Their entrance had seamlessly transitioned into their first dance as a married couple. And she must have found a way to make her reality a fantasy, because watching her dance with James was like watching the princess finally get the dance with her prince in those movies I used to watch when I was a kid. The same girl who would gawk at the screen growing up was raging in me now, only wanting to experience that moment with the man both behind but beside me, our bodies turned in a way we could watch them on the dance floor. I spared one glance to him over my shoulder, and his eyes met mine, a certain sparkle in his eye contrasted the fairy lights around us as he offered me a smile. I turned away from him before the blush on my cheeks could form under the low light. It almost hurt to watch the fairytale couple on the dance floor now. Fiction had become real for them, but I was unsure if fate would be as kind to me.

At some point during the toasts from the families though, Spencer must’ve noticed my mind was somewhere else. My knee wasn’t bouncing from anxiety like earlier, but his hand found mine this time under the table. “Hey.” He whispered low to me, leaning his head closer to my ear.

“Hey.” I didn’t try to fight the smile that crept to my lips, wanting to be unapologetically me after being the mess earlier that I had been.

“Are you okay?” He was still whispering, never once showing any indication that he was going to let go of my hand.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I just-“ Our eyes met at the same time but I had quickly noticed how close we were to the other, our noses almost bumping the other. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

My cheeks moved in a way that I could feel the movement push my ears back a bit. “I’m fine thank you.”

“Okay.” I gave his hand one squeeze before he let go. As I turned back to watch the table at the center of everyone’s attention, I felt his hand on the small of my back. It was a touch that made my spine straighten out of reflex but he chose to gently rub the space there, and then he quickly withdrew his hand. “Sorry.” A small laugh escaped my lips once again.

“Spence, it's fine.” James’ father had stepped back up to the microphone, and quickly said a prayer over the food and ceremony, and the appetizers were soon carried out.

“Do you want the oranges on my salad?” Looking down at his salad, he was holding the small bowl in both hands, his nose scrunched at the sight.

“Do you not want them?”

“No. I don’t like when oranges are mixed with cheese like that. And if I brush the cheese off, I can still taste it.”

“Sure.” With his fork, he carefully raked the collection of slices into my bowl and then started eating his. “Do you want my salad?”

“What?” He asked through a mouth of food, turning his head back toward me with a raised eyebrow. “You don’t want your salad?” It was almost entertaining to watch him try to talk and eat.

“Not this one. But I do want these oranges.” It was his turn to laugh now, a smile forming once again as he nodded, turning back to this salad for another forkful.

“Yeah, just let me finish mine.” As we both worked on our variations of the salad, it was time for the Best Man and Maid of Honour speeches. Half listening, I found out that he met James when they were in college and she had met Alexis way back in middle school. Both of their speeches were heartfelt and where the Best Man made me laugh, the Maid of Honour made me want to cry at the sentiment. Then dinner was rolled out for everyone and once again, Spencer and I found ourselves bartering food trades. Instead of oranges and salad, this was time it was my side of asparagus for his side of au gratin potatoes. By the time we had cleared our plates of steak and our chosen sides, the wedding cake was being rolled out, and even that seemed like it was from a fairytale dream. Fortunately though, there was no bartering of the cake slices, Spencer and I knowing each other well enough to know that we both have a sweet tooth. If anything, we were wanting a second slice, but this was something we would deal with later.

It was not long before the dance floor was officially opened for everyone. Spencer and I lingered back, talking amongst ourselves before I spotted Alexis and James making their rounds to greet their guests. Standing from my seat, I motioned for Spencer to follow me, so that I could finally say hi to my friend. “You came!” She yelled at me as she pulled me into a hug, her eyes quickly landing on Spencer as we pulled apart. “And you have a boyfriend?”

“Alexis!” I snapped at her, turning back to check on Spencer. It didn’t even seem to phase him, his smile never leaving his lips.

“We’re coworkers.” He tried to correct her.

“We’re friends.” I was trying to amend his statement when I noticed how Alexis was looking between the two of us.

“Well, I’m sure knowing her is never a dull moment.” There was a smirk in her expression that I hadn’t seen in a while. It was the one she used to get on campus, when you told her one thing and it was something she had heard before, but her prior knowledge seemed to have more details. It was a look of knowing, knowing that to her she seemed to think she understood more than you. And she often did.

“It never is.” I didn’t need to look at him, I knew from the light undertone of a laugh in his words that he was smiling, that he was finding this exchange amusing. ”Congratulations to you guys. And the decorations are just spectacular.”

“Thank you.” While it was probably the phrase she had heard the most today, she took his congratulations like it was the first one she heard, looping her arm with James’. “And thank you both for coming. It means everything to me.” I’m not sure to what extent she knew about our jobs, other than often when she was in DC, I was not. “Okay, one last hug. Our photographer is waving us over.” She pulled me in for a hug that lasted a bit longer than I thought it would. But I soon understood why. Alexis was humming a tune only for me to hear. And I didn’t hear it clearly at first. But playing it over in my head as she pulled away, it clicked. It was I Can Hear the Bells.

“Alexis.” I groaned as she winked at me, leaning into James as they walked away.

“What is it?” Spencer was standing closer to me now, the tips of his fingers lightly bumping mine.

“She just,” I had to find the words. Everyone we met tonight had seen him as my boyfriend. And while it was a fantasy I hoped it would come true, it was something I was scared would never happen. Dating your coworkers was never advised in any profession, but I meant what I said. We were friends. Spencer and I are friends. But I wanted to be so much more. “Alexis finally got her fairytale.” And naturally when I looked up at him, the song over the dancefloor had changed. His hand slipped into mine and I ignored the way it felt, how goosebumps had rippled across my skin. It was clearly time for a slow dance on the dance floor, and I didn’t want to trust the fates this time.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I have this dance?” I tried to force the breath through my lungs.

“Spencer.” I warned, rolling my head from shoulder to shoulder. I had never seen the look in his eyes. It was one of pleading, his eyes reigniting their sparkle from earlier but this was one was holding onto the possibility of a forever. Or maybe that was just what I wanted to believe. “I don’t… really like dancing.”

“Oh?” I watched as he tried to understand, but the hope was still there.

“I mean. It’s been a while and I don’t want to step on your feet and-“ he squeezed our hands, as if it were an unspoken reassurance.

“I don’t think you will.” My bottom lip found it’s way between my teeth as I looked to the floor where couples had taken, holding each other in close embraces. Even if I wanted that, I wasn’t sure I would allow myself to have it. I knew what this would mean for us. “Please?”

“Just… don’t take any legal actions if I do?” This laugh was gentle, his eyes closing for just a moment as a smile rose to his lips.

“Promise.” Like any scene I had seen in a movie, he walked me onto the dance floor, keeping us just on the edge so there were not many others near us. I let go of his hand to put my hands on his shoulders, his hold moving to my waist. We started in a swaying side step motion and it felt like an awkward dance posture from the 1980s. “Here, let me.” Removing one hand from my waist, he held it out to the side. “Put your hand in mine.” Trusting him, I did as he asked, trying once again to control my breathing. “And now I’m going to put my other hand on your back.” The move would naturally pull us closer together, and the breath I was trying to control earlier was forced from my lungs. My hand slipped down from his shoulder to his forearm, my focus solely on where my hands were and whether it was awkward or uncomfortable for either of us. “Is this okay?”

“I thought you didn’t like touch, like this.”

“I don’t like touching strangers.” He clarified for me, staring down at me. It was then I realised how close we were once again, our breaths fanning across the others' faces. “You’re not a stranger to me.”

“No, we’re just friends, right?”

“You’ve never been just a friend to me.” Where was an oxygen tank at this point? “I’m sorry if that’s overstepping on my part.”

“No, no.” I bit my lip before looking back up to him. “You were never just a friend to me either.” Looking at our hands, I wondered if I could get the photographer to take this picture for me. His hand carrying mine, supporting it in a way it also enveloped it. Our hands were the cliche of puzzle pieces that were always meant to be together. “I’m sorry for calling you my coworker earlier.”

“I mean it’s not entirely wrong.”

“No, it was wrong. It is wrong.” Tears had started to prick at my eyelids, but I tried to blink them back. I would not cry in front of Spencer Reid at my friend's wedding. Not today. “Spencer you’re more than that.” His smile was small but it was soft and it was there. It was as if the dance floor had vanished at this point, we were in our own moment, having our dance in the clouds.

“Can you just say it?” There was something to his words that finally made me believe. Believe in the simplistic idea that he could and would return my feelings. But the lingering fear held me back.

“Say what?” The world stopped, or maybe we did, as he held me close to him. Our bodies had never been this close and maybe it was due to the syncopating rhythms of our hearts, maybe they were finally speaking for us on the same wavelength.

He let out a breath that fell onto my skin. “I like you.”

“You do?” I asked, if only to get a form of confirmation. I didn’t want this moment to be one I had misheard, or imagined. Our big daunting forever was cracking at the seam to reveal itself to us.

“Yeah.”

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too.” It was his turn to smile down at me now. His hold on me tightened if only for a moment because in the next, he kissed me. It was a quick union of our lips, a moment that I prayed would live on the surface for as long as I breathed. Neither he nor I could erase the smile that forced our cheeks higher up our faces. His forehead fell to rest against mine before I moved to rest my head on his chest, to have a chance to finally hear his heartbeat and maybe thank it for bringing us here.

“You know, I’ve never danced with a pretty girl in public before.” He whispered next to my ear, the hand on my back pulling us closer again. It was new to be there, but it felt like the one place I belonged.

“So you’ve danced with other pretty girls?”

“No one compares to you.” It was then as I pulled back to look at him, the music came to a stop. I felt his body tense, and he squeezed my hand just one more time before letting go of my frame. Spencer Reid was Prince Charming. As he stepped back, he lowered into a bow, pulling my hand to his lips to kiss the surface. “Thank you for the dance.” He lead me back over to our spot at the table as the last dance of the night for the newlyweds was called over the room. We watched from our table, but his hand found mine between us, and I tried to ignore how ticklish my palm became as he ghosted patterns with just the tip of his finger. Eventually I had to still his hand, taking hold of it in a tight squeeze, looking back at him to offer him a smile. I wondered if there would ever be a way to bottle energy, and if so, could I have the discovery just to bottle the energy radiating off of us in this moment. I should’ve been paying attention to Alexis and James, they were the new couple of the hour. But I was so lost in us.

The night came to a close once we were ushered to the parking lot where their exit vehicle waited for them. Reaching into my purse, I dug out the pouch of confetti from the beginning of the night. Spencer took it from my hands, pouring all of it into his palm. I took a pinch of the blush, gold, and olive confetti, and waited along the sidewalk with the other guests. Alexis and James emerged, hand in hand, as we all began throwing the confetti. She spared me one glance and quickly pointed between Spencer and I, flashing me a thumbs up. As I started to blush, Spencer in turn threw a pinch of the confetti into the air. I looked up at him, the moment moving in a freeze frame. Maybe I would remember this moment as well as he often remembered his life. The confetti pieces fell almost like snow and his smile was perfectly etched to lift his cheeks and show his teeth. He was looking up, the light hitting his eyes so they seemed brighter, almost as if they were in turn a precious gemstone. Spencer probably had a logical explanation for every thought I had during the duration of today. It wasn’t quite love at first sight, we were about three years too late for that. But it was definitely a lovely sight. To see Spencer. To see him removed from the office environment, to see him enjoying himself. If anything, I was mad it had taken us this long.

Spencer had walked me to my door that night, but as opposed to earlier he kept his hands folded in front of him, every so often reaching to play with the sleeves of his shirt now that his jacket was removed. It was slightly later in the evening than I had originally anticipated getting home. Though, I’m sure the extended routes we took to prolong our conversations had nothing to do with that fact (though maybe it had everything to do with that). It was clear neither of us were ready for today to be over, for this to become a yesterday and then a day far, distant, way behind our present on the calendar. Or at least I wasn’t ready for that. Spencer, however, would remember this day for quite a while, and while I could ask him anything about today, it wouldn’t be my own thoughts. I wanted to remember every moment a twinkle of the fairy lights caught his eye or when the smile on his face wasn’t simply enough to show the pure joy he seemed to be feeling. I wanted to remember how he looked every time he looked at me tonight, looking at me like it was first time.

“I really had fun tonight.” He finally spoke up, breaking my spiraling thoughts.

“Me too!” I had to look at my feet to formulate my thoughts. If I looked at Spencer, I probably would spend another ten minutes just staring at one another. “Thank you for going with me by the way.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Goodnight Spencer.” Turning my back to Spencer, I reached into my purse, trying to find the small keyring with my apartment key. Once I had found it and entered it into the keyhole, disengaging the deadbolt, Spencer's hand was suddenly on my elbow, attempting to pull me to look back at him.

“Do you think we could do this again?” His voice was quiet now, almost as quiet as the night that surrounded us.

“What? Go to a wedding?” The idea made me smile again, what other tender moment could we have then.

“No I mean… hang out, outside of work? Just you and me?”

“Like a date?” I was watching his reaction for even the most minor sign that he would be uncomfortable at the idea. It was the age old “profilers don’t profile each other” and here I was, breaking it. But his smile never faltered.

“It doesn’t have to be. We could simply get coffee, go to the bookstore. I would even run errands with you. Just…” it was my turn to smile just at mentions of ideas now. The mental image of Spencer helping me carry groceries into my apartment was an intriguing idea, and was maybe an offer I would have to take him up on one day.

“How about we start with you calling me? And we’ll figure out the rest from there?”

“Sounds perfect.” Maybe this was just the start of our forever. I hoped in the magic of fairytales that this would our happily ever after.

Tell me what you think here!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid y/n #spencer reid fandom #oneshot #angst #wedding #ssahopelessly

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

Melancholia (Lesley Fic)

Summary: Reader has been acting weird lately and Lesley makes a much needed wellness check. A/N: Anyway... Watch Hot Air. It’s on YouTube if I recall correctly. Couple: Lesley/GN!Reader Category: Hurt/Comfort Content Warning: Depression, self-hatred, medication use (unidentified) Word Count: 3.3k

MASTERLIST

The clock on the wall hasn’t ticked in days, and as much as I wanted to say it was a metaphor for my current state of mind, I knew that it was only because the batteries died and I was too tired to change them.

Tired. More like lazy. Whatever word they’re using to describe the abysmal apathy that swallowed the space around me like an ever present shadow. It would only take a few minutes to remedy the problem — to drown out the ambient buzzing of the refrigerator filled with half-rotten food.

Lazy. More like ungrateful. Unwilling to recognize how lucky I am to even have a roof over my head. To have access to water and clothes just to avoid showering because my thoughts are amplified by the water.

The clock on the wall hasn’t ticked in days.

So why do I keep looking at it, expecting it to give me an answer to questions it was never designed to anticipate?

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in like I’ve always been told to do. But I couldn’t even do that right. I blew out the air too quickly and with quivering lips. I think I was trying to cry, but I couldn’t tell you why. No tears fell.

It was probably for the best, anyway. It was certainly a good representation of how I felt.

Empty. Empty like the apartment that I hadn’t left in time to see the sunlight in at least a week. Maybe two, but who’s counting anyway? My friends had long given up on contacting me when I get like this. They knew it was a fruitless effort. Unless they really would rather spend their little bit of free time playing babysitter and maid while I tried to get myself together.

It was best for me to be alone. Wallowing in self-pity until the options became so bleak that I had no other choice than to get up. Until something forced me from the indentation shaped like my unrecognizable body.

Something good. Something so unbelievably, impossibly wonderful that I might be able to believe that the world wasn’t all bad all the time.

Or, I don’t know, maybe just a stray cat batting at the window to say hello. Maybe that would be enough.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound that shook the dust of my mind was so in tune with my thoughts that I actually looked to the window first. But when there were no patting paws, I turned my attention to the much more sensible location: my front door.

When I found my way there on shaky legs, I paused. It was days like this I really wished that I had a peephole. But I didn’t, so I just stood there, weighing whether it was worth the gamble. There were only a few people who could be on the other side, and only a handful of them were people I cared about enough to pretend to be happy.

The rest were people I never wanted to see me like this.

“(Y/n)? It’s Lesley.”

Just like that, my heart leapt back to life from its hiding place somewhere in my stomach.

“Your neighbors told me you were home. Not like, in a creepy way, or anything. I just happened to pass them and they recognized me and mentioned you were home when I... You know, never mind. It doesn’t matter, but—“

The door swung opened and stopped his thought, replacing it with my own.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry to surprise you, I just I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said. He spoke so quickly that his last words were muttered without a breath, “I wanted to see you.”

The two of us just stared at each other, lost and equally nervous judging by the way he wrung his hands together. And, despite how hard I tried, I couldn’t come up with any reason to kick him out.

Even though I knew I should. Even though I’d promised myself that he would be the last one to see me like this.

“Oh… Okay,” I muttered.

I took a step back and kicked the bag of trash that sat uselessly beside my door. It wasn’t its fault; it was just waiting to be taken out. But the walk down the hall to the trash chute felt a lot longer when I could barely make myself put on socks.

Lesley didn’t seem to mind, though. He took his time, stepping carefully as he meandered through the crowded, disastrous space.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess in here. And I don’t even have any makeup on or anything,” I mumbled.

It succeeded in dragging his eyes away from the mess of the room and back to the mess of me. Even just the cursory glances made my skin crawl. It wasn’t his fault, though. I had just forgotten what it felt like to be seen by something kind.

“That’s okay,” he said with a smile and a shrug, “I can handle mess.”

And no matter how badly I wanted to correct him, to explain that I was not like any other mess he’d ever seen before, I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not when his smile looked so heartbreakingly genuine. So perfectly out of place for my life.

So I didn’t correct him, but I did feel obligated to explain myself, albeit with a shitty explanation.

“It’s been tough lately with work and everything. My chores just... piled up.”

With one sweep of the room, he turned back with a slightly cautious, “Can I help?”

The kind of cautious that reminded me how much of a burden it was to be friends with me. The cautious that sounded a lot like disappointment and disgust. The cautious I’d spent most of my young adult life running away from. The kind that only had one right answer.

“No, it’s fine. I can do it myself.”

“But I’m here now. I can do stuff, too.”

He tried to make it sound like a joke, but all I heard was every person who’d ever resented me. His smile was still there, but my brain was too busy interpreting it as condescension to hear anything else.

“It’s not your job to take care of me,” I shot back, laced with poison and loathing that he didn’t deserve.

Having already witnessed what would happen if he made a joke, lovable, foolish Lesley countered with another.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

His lips twisted into an unsure pucker at the reply. I could only imagine what he was considering while he was gone in his thoughts. He was probably weighing all of the options he had. Trying to decide if my venom was enough to abandon his pursuits altogether.

Whatever it was, he made up his mind a little too quickly for my liking.

“Fine,” he said, raising two hands in defeat while he stepped closer to the exit.

I couldn’t blame him. I would leave, too, if I was on the receiving end of my harsh words. It wasn’t worth it to dirty his hands when the problem had an obvious solution. It wasn’t up to him to convince me to be better; I should’ve done it on my own already.

I was just being stubborn. Lazy. Stupid.

But right when I thought he would leave, he took a step away from the door.

A step closer to me.

My whole body tensed at the proximity while simultaneously leaning towards him and seeking out even just the briefest touch. Anything to remind me that I was, in fact, still here and capable of being touched.

Still worthy of being touched by anything, much less something as pure as him.

Then, like he could read my mind, Lesley opened his arms.

“Can I at least get a hug for the road?” he asked.

He sounded so full of love and life that I wondered how I’d ever found someone so different from myself. Because there was just no getting around the way the sun shined brighter and the wind changed direction to have more of a chance to touch him.

Someone good. Too good for me.

But how could I say no when he wouldn’t put his arms down no matter how long I stared? How could I not when the alternative was to disappoint him even more than I already had?

“Fine,” I replied with the same amount of defeat as he had shown.

Still stuck on the thought that he was making a mistake in letting me touch him. Convinced that I would taint him with dread and destruction.

When his arms wrapped around me, though, it didn’t feel like pain. It didn’t feel like anything at first. His touch was so light that I almost didn’t register it. So, I waited a few seconds more before leaning into him, trying to find his heartbeat through his sweater.

Lesley pulled me closer, then, with his hands spreading over my back like he could feel how badly every inch of me craved his recognition. He didn’t stop, drawing comforting swirls and circles up my shoulders and neck until he got to the terrible, tangled mess of my hair.

He didn’t run his fingers through it, probably acutely aware of the sting that would accompany the movement, but he didn’t shy away completely. With one comforting palm, Lesley stroked the top of my head, using it as an excuse to guide my head closer until my ear was pressed against him.

From there I listened to the gentle thrum of a heart that felt tortured but strong. Tired but trying.

It sounded a lot like mine.

“That feels nice,” I mumbled, half hoping he wouldn’t hear. Afraid that an acknowledgment might make him stop.

My fears were justified, too, because that’s immediately what he did. His hands that held me so carefully pulled me away so that he could look me in the eye.

So I would see how excited he was when he asked, “Can I brush it?”

The thought alone made me wince, fully expecting him to be too harsh and too quick in his detangling. But he just looked so happy that I decided the pain would be worth it.

“If you want to,” I asked, careful to emphasize the word ‘want’.

But Lesley was already taking off towards the bathroom, expertly dodging all the obstacles in his path.

He did even better on the return trip, dragging me with him to the couch and tossing pillows on the ground for me to sit on. It was so chaotic and childlike and very unlike him that for just one second, I forgot that I was supposed to be sad.

And I laughed.

It sounded foreign and wrong and wonderful. It felt like gears turning for the first time after years of building up rust. But then it burned out, just like a candle in a vacuum using up the last of the oxygen for its own self-interest.

I didn’t talk while he worked. Instead, I stared out at all the things I needed to do. My own apartment felt so suffocating, like it was nothing but an endless list of chores that I would never accomplish. Not that it was extraordinary or unique— they were the same things everyone else had to do.

I was just lazy. Ungrateful. Stupid.

“Hey, I don’t mean to pry or anything it’s just...”

Lesley’s voice broke through the thoughts again like static on a record. It would’ve been a welcome distraction if not for the unease clear in his tone.

It seemed like he was waiting for a response, but my throat felt too tight to let any through. After a few more seconds of silence, he spoke again. Lowly, calmly, and careful.

“I saw your prescription bottle in the bathroom, and it looked... empty.”

The words spread through me like fire. My skin burned with blood that had been long settled. It was humiliating enough for him to have seen my bathroom, much less the scattered empty bottles evidencing just how horrible I was.

“Yeah, I meant to do that today, but I got busy,” I said with a laugh to disguise the lie.

Lesley didn’t mention it. He didn’t even ask any other clarifying questions.

Instead, he happily offered, “I can get it for you.”

“No, it’s fine, I can do it,” I urged just like before.

Except this time Lesley responded with an equally rigid resolve, “So can I.”

It was hard to be annoyed with him when his hands continued to work through knots with an impossible amount of tenderness considering the tangles.

In a way, I felt like his hands were a metaphor for his heart, which also worked with a precision and purity that seemed almost too good to be human.

“I don’t mind,” he whispered, sounding ashamed of the edge he’d taken before, “I need to go to the store anyway.”

“Okay...” I mumbled back, wondering if it was because I felt obligated or because I was worried any other answer would hurt him even more.

Interestingly, that thought started a dangerous precedent. Even after Lesley left, it carried me through my apartment with a renewed sense of purpose. I was burning through my to-do list, motivated only by the thought of making him proud.

And while I couldn’t tackle it all—not even close— I did push all the trash into more manageable piles. And at least one of those piles finally made it to the chute.

But still, that wasn’t the most impressive thing by far. That honor was reserved for my very first shower in at least a week. I was a little embarrassed by how excited the thought of him coming back made me.

Because really, it was pathetic, right? He shouldn’t be impressed because I finally took a few small steps to be a normal, functional human being.

It was my fault it got this bad. It wasn’t revolutionary that I got myself back up.

Just before I’d resigned myself to the misery I had just started to crawl away from, the sound of the key I’d lent him jiggling in a knob alerted me of Lesley’s return. I stood frozen in place like a deer in headlights, waiting for his reason.

“Oh! You showered!” he shouted. He scrambled to hold onto several bags while also shutting the door. Once he accomplished the latter, he continued, “That means I can do your hair again!”

I swore my heart stopped in response. It was the only logical reaction to seeing something so undeniably adorable.

“Let me just put these groceries away first!”

Then I remembered to be confused by the bags lining his arms. I rushed over to help him, but he had already made his way over to my now mostly-clear table.

“Groceries?”

He knew why I was asking. I wasn’t just stating the obvious; I was probing to see any sign of pity.

But surprisingly, I found none when he replied, “I hope you don’t mind. I thought it might be fun to cook us a meal and I got carried away.”

My confusion manifested as an automatic assent of “No, it’s fine.”

... which Lesley was more than happy to capitalize on.

“Great!” he called, already busy unpacking the items and working through the dishes I’d managed to clean.

Embarrassed, I ran over to clean the rest. But Lesley wasn’t ready to let me do it by myself. That seemed to be the trend of the day.

I wasn’t going to complain this time. Especially not when a task I was certain would take an hour was over in less than ten minutes.

The rest of the time was spent listening to him talk about strange vegan ingredients he assured me would taste better than they smelled. And even though I winced and pinched my nose in a show of feigned disgust, it was really only because I loved the way he couldn’t keep a straight face. His lips bounced between pouts and smiles the whole time.

Eventually, mine started to follow suit. My lips weren’t as quick as him to turn up, but they did. They slowly gained their ability to stretch and curve just like they had a lifetime ago.

Then I couldn’t stop smiling. I smiled until my cheeks hurt and then some. I kept it going past the point of indulgence.

I let myself feel guilty for feeling happy and then I kept doing it, anyway, purely out of spite.

It would have to end eventually. I knew that. But I enjoyed every second I had. Lesley and I spent hours just like that, moving trash piles and clothes. It felt so substantial. Like we were moving mountains rather than garbage. Everything felt that way with him.

Easier. Better. Fun.

When we found ourselves changing the sheets on my bed, we quickly realized we’d drained our reserves. Thankfully we had just enough to finish... and throw ourselves onto clean linen.

Lesley laughed as I wiggled underneath the sheets. The sound granted me enough confidence to drag him in with me.

He didn’t fight my hands. He let them guide him to the spot next to me. From there, he felt comfortable resting his hand on my hip.

“You must be tired,” he whispered like the sound might wake me further, “I get the feeling you haven’t had a good night of sleep in a while.”

With a pathetic, nervous chuckle I answered a very sarcastic, “What gave me away?”

But there was no need to be nervous. Not with him. That sweet, impossible man was just waiting for an excuse to pull my body against his.

“Well, let’s take a nap then,” he offered with a warmth in his voice that rivaled the heat radiating from his body.

It only took a few seconds before my eyelids felt too heavy to open. Still, I couldn’t rest. My brain was buzzing with thoughts that needed to come out one way or another. Whether it was with words or gestures, I had to share them. To free myself of the weight so that my heart could beat unencumbered again.

“Hey, Lesley?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” I whispered. And even though I heard the words crackling, I forced them out, anyway. Even when tears started to fall, I tried to say the things he deserved to hear. “Things have just been really hard lately and I just really appreciate—"

He needed to know how important this was to me. How much it meant that he came here, surely expecting better company, and took care of me. That he took it upon himself to make sure that I felt human again.

That idea did come out in a way, but it wasn't with words. It was through choked sobs that soaked his shirt.

Lesley didn’t shy away from the tears, though. If anything, he pulled me closer, hushing me with soft sounds murmured against my hair.

“Shhh, I know,” he whispered, “I’m here.”

For the first time in a long time, that statement felt honest.

But I still felt obligated to apologize for everything about me.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Lesley didn’t let the words go unnoticed like I’d hoped. He held me tighter, steeling his words to fight even the strongest self-doubt.

“Don’t be. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”

He meant it to be comforting, but the thought was so ridiculous that I had to laugh. A scratchy, unusual sound that would take some getting used to again. I didn’t mind, though. Not when it made the tears feel lighter.

“You’re so weird," I muttered through it all.

Lesley returned the laughter wholeheartedly, and I thought to myself that it was ridiculous how much better I felt knowing that I could make him smile.

I knew it wouldn’t last forever; that pulling yourself out of a hole takes a lot of time and hard work (and in my case, the prescription I’d been missing). The happiness I felt in that moment was fleeting, but it was enough.

Enough to make me feel like I deserved to feel okay again.

To believe that I was, and always had been, enough.

“You’ll just have to get used to it, I guess,” he joked with his hands holding me as close as they could. It was because of that simple gesture that I knew he definitely wasn’t joking anymore when he whispered, “You’re stuck with me.”

And what a wonderful thing to be.