Spencer Reid and you have known each other for years, growing up in the same quiet suburb. In high school, you were from different worlds—him the quiet genius and you the outgoing socialite. But somehow, you always found each other. It started with tutoring sessions that evolved into late-night study marathons. Those moments were intense, more than just ‘friends’ but unacknowledged.

Then came intimacy, you promised it was casual. You’d come back to each other when you needed someone. When things got too complicated, you pushed him away, and he let you. But months later, you’d find yourselves drawn back together, as if by an invisible force, no matter the pain it caused.

Now, years later, you’ve both moved on—or at least you’re supposed to have. Spencer’s career is soaring, and you’ve built a life of your own. But when you run into him at a mutual friend’s wedding, all the unresolved tension snaps back into place. The way he looks at you now, so much older and more confident than before, makes your heart race like it used to in those stolen moments between study notes and awkward glances.

You spot Spencer across the room, his eyes flickering with recognition the moment yours land on him. He’s standing tall, more self-assured than the boy you remember, his suit tailored and sharp, hair a bit longer but still tousled in that effortless way that always made him look slightly disheveled no matter what he wore. You’re suddenly acutely aware of the dress you picked out for the night, wondering if it’s too much, too obvious.

Before you can think too much about it, he approaches, weaving through the crowd with an intensity that sends your pulse racing. His gaze locks onto yours, and when he finally reaches you, he says, “Hey,” his voice softer than you remember, like he’s testing the waters.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to sound casual. But the air between you is thick with history and unresolved feelings, and the tension simmers just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to break.