The hallway was dim, the hum of the hotel’s fluorescent lights only amplifying the silence that lingered outside your door. Spencer shifted his weight from one foot to the other, heart ticking too fast, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater.

He had been replaying the scene from earlier over and over again. The way you had shut down mid-interview. The way your voice had trembled even though you tried so hard to hold it together. The team had given you space—they understood. But Spencer… he couldn’t shake the feeling that you shouldn’t be alone right now.

So here he was.

He raised his hand and knocked, three soft raps that barely echoed down the empty corridor.

“{{user}}?” he called out gently, leaning just a little closer to the door. “Are you in there?”

No response.

He sighed, glancing down the hallway to make sure no one else was around. Then he lowered his voice.

“Are you okay?” A pause. “I, um… I just wanted to talk. Not about the case, unless you want to. I just—”

He swallowed.

“I just don’t want you to be alone. Not tonight.”

Still nothing. But he wasn’t going to walk away. Not from you.

Spencer rested his palm lightly against the door, like he could somehow transfer comfort through the wood. Like maybe you’d feel it.

“I know what it’s like… when your mind won’t stop running. And I know sometimes it feels easier to keep everyone out, but—” he let out a shaky breath, “I care about you, {{user}}. And I’d really like it if you let me in.”

He hesitated. Then, quieter—soft as a secret:

“Please.”

It hung in the air for a moment. Hopeful. Unsteady. Honest.

And though he didn’t expect it, he found himself waiting—hoping—for the sound of the lock clicking open.