I fucking love you, Spencer Reid
Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.
~ J.K. Rowling
~ J.K. Rowling
"I just..." Emily sighed, trying hard to hold her tears. "I just truly hate myself right now."
He didn't reply. He merely took a deep hard breath and looked up at the ceiling, gazing into a crack on the white paint. The house was old, so there were some cracks on the paint here and there. It needed a new paint job. Also, the pink on her bedroom walls was obnoxious. When I was born, they painted this crap pink, it looks like fucking barf... But I was never really allowed to pick another color. Then I just got used to this crap.
She softly brushed his bare chest with her fingertips, causing him to shiver. He didn't stop gazing at the ceiling though. He just put a firmer grip on her shoulder, which made her release a sigh that sounded like it had been there for a really long time.
The song was still playing. She completely forgot about the song. She had her player set to replay and she completely forgot.
I'm only here for this moment...
And know everybody here wants you...
And know everybody here thinks they need you...
I've been waiting right here just to show you...
She sang, almost whispering. He was still gazing at the ceiling, thinking about what they had just done. He disapproved it. But then again, it was probably the most fun he's had in ages. So different from the kind of fun he has when reading his favorite book, hanging out with his friends from work or playing poker. It was a whole new concept of fun that Spencer has never known. He had done it before. But not like that. Not so passionately. Not with someone who genuinely loved him.
They barely knew each other. They had known each other for, like, two weeks. And they were already head over heels in love with each other. Well, Emily just wanted someone to mess around with and Spencer didn't need love, he had books so what had just happened between them was a mere mistake. A huge mistake, actually. It shouldn't have happened. But it did. And it felt so good. But it should never happen again. Because they didn't like each other all that much. Like Spencer had said earlier, Emily was just lonely and he was the first person to actually show her the slightest bit of affection, so she gave him all her heart, without even questioning or thinking about the consequences. She just decided she would love him because he made her feel like no one has ever made her feel.
She had the same effect on him, too. She made him feel things he had no idea existed. But love is not real...
"You know, you should really fix that crack on the ceiling." He said, pointing at it. She lifted her chin up and looked at it.
"Yeah, I should..." She agreed, placing her head on his chest again. "I should paint this whole thing, like, yellow or some shit."
"Why yellow?" He asked, confused. "I've never seen you wear yellow..."
"Yeah, that's 'cause I fucking hate yellow." She said. He made her feel so comfortable she wasn't even ashamed of cursing in front of him anymore. They say cursing in front of someone means that person makes you feel either really good or really angry.
"Then why'd you wanna paint your walls yellow?" He didn't understand what she was saying. It made no sense to his perfectly logical brain. But then again, he had been acting like an emotional motherfucker ever since he met her.
"Because it's such a happy bright obnoxious color, you know?" He just widened his eyes and lifted both his brows in a mixture of surprise and this is weird! "And I'm done being depressed..."
He smiled and, with his free arm started rubbing her leg. They were in kind of an awkward position, lying naked in her small single's bed. He was laying on his back and she was laying on her side, her left arm over his chest and her left leg in humping position on both his skinny legs. It was a weird position indeed, at least for her. But she found it comfortable. And he couldn't complain. Their bodies were as close as it is physically allowed. He felt her breath on his thin chest and quivered from head to toe. Her heart was beating so slow she almost felt dead. But in a good way. Death was freeing. Death was the ultimate comfort from this mad world of pain and suffering. Death was, as she earlier said. awesome.
"I think I'm gonna go change the song..." She said, getting up, completely naked. He appreciated her back as she took a couple of steps towards her desk and leaned on the computer, selecting the Player's library and putting it on shuffle. The song that came on was one of his favorites. Tristesse by Chopin. She got back in bed and placed herself in the same position again. She looked out the window. It was now raining. Soft rain, the kind of rain that you don't take seriously; you purposely forget your umbrella at home, because that rain isn't real rain. You can walk under it and never feel like you're wet. However, when you get to your destination, you're soaked. Thesoak-a-fool rain.
Emily closed her eyes and listened to the rain getting a little heavier. She felt the beating of his heart slowly calming down. He kept gazing at the crack on her ceiling, fearing it would start raining inside the house. But it didn't. He eventually closed his eyes as well. Neither of them was actually asleep, they were just numb. That moment they had lived in her bed, it was just an attempt of both of them to numb their pain for a while. To put a mask of pleasure in their pain, to make it feel like all the pain was gone. But it wasn't. It was still resting in both their heads, except now it was like an angry bull that had been put to sleep. But as soon as it woke up, the damage would be far worse. But they didn't think about that. They didn't care. What they had just done, it made them feel all good and normal, for a change. Like two average young adults who don't have much skeletons in their closet and whose worst nightmares are about not looking good enough on that job interview or being kind of late for something important.
Neither of them wanted to get up and put their clothes on because, when they did, that moment would be definitely over. And they would be Spencer Reid and Emily Bronson all over again, two tormented people who had to deal with ghosts on a daily basis. And the pain would return and it would feel worse than ever. But what has been done cannot be undone and now the only thing they could do was avoiding to get up and get dressed for as long as they could.
"You are pretty." Emily said, breaking the silence, causing Spencer to open his eyes very suddenly. "I mean, at first sight, you look like, kind of shit, with those dark circles under your eyes and that skinny frame of yours..." she said, never opening her eyes. "But you're fucking beautiful." He was genuinely surprised. It was truthfully the first time in his life someone other than his mother had called him beautiful. But of course his mother never used the word fucking.
"You're pretty good-looking yourself..." He said, not able to come up with a better answer to that.
"You're like..." She started, opening her eyes and gazing at a particular spot on the wall that meant absolutely nothing. She was just gazing at it for no reason. "You're like, the most beautiful person I have ever fucking seen."
He didn't know how to react to these statements.
"You have this... This thing inside of you, like... You make me drunk." She finally found the words to describe exactly how he made her feel. "'Cause when I see you, I just... I just wanna be my fucking self and screw the fuck out of everything else..."
She did sound drunk, in a way. No one in their right mind would say something like that to a significant other after making love to them. But then again, it was not love they had made. It was mere sex. Because they weren't in love. It was a casual thing that happened randomly. Emily didn't love Spencer. Spencer didn't love Emily. Or did he?
"I have no idea what you're saying..." He simply said, taking a deep breath. "But I feel the same."
They needed to get up and get dressed. Emily wasn't sure what time Aunt Daisy would bring Nana home. Spencer had to leave before they arrived. Emily had to pretend she was doing something other than thinking about him. She had to act normal around her aunt. She had an incredible sixth sense that was always right. And she would ask questions. And Emily wasn't ready to answer them. All she wanted to do was stay on that bed forever with Spencer, feel his skin against hers and numb the pain for as long as she possibly could. But they had to get in reality.
"I fucking love you, Spencer Reid."
Oh well. They did it.
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