The number stayed dialed, sequence occupying the screen as the call button taunted, a merciless torment, corrupting his once functional mind into reckless abandon. Steady hum of the hotel heater buzzed in the air, filling the obnoxiously tense silence, only occasionally broken by a resigned sigh, fingers twitching towards and away the button to seal his fate.

His heel hit the ground ceaselessly, anxious rhythm against the carpeted floor as his knee bounced. Free hand grasped and clawed aimlessly at the duvet, scratching for a scrape of escape or reprieve from the hazardous maelstrom swarming his mind.

A harsh snap signaled the closure of his phone, followed by the soft thump of it hitting the pillow, tossed precariously across the bed. His head dropped into his hands, eyes shutting in a silent pray for his thoughts to diminish but his torturer was burned into his eyelids, sparing him from a fleeting moment of peace.

His eyes raised, diverting skittish attention towards the bright white storm outside the hotel, an angelic coating casting over skyscrapers, drowning irritated pedestrians and tentative drivers, bustling sidewalks and occupied roads despite the relentless snowfall. His gaze lingered, watching everything and nothing as you held a leash on his mind, dragging him through every ruinous mistake.

Scarce young college love. Nights tangled in each others arms, forgotten movies running in the background, saccharine whispered words of a forever promise, all came to a bitter end with his departure to D.C. His acceptance to the BAU led to love’s demise, every swear and vow crumbling to a worthless pile of debris.

Years subsequent, cooped up in a Chicago hotel for a case, buried in snow and sorrow, pitiful and rueful as he stared at the storm akin to his thoughts. He watched the ground below as though he’d catch a glimpse of you amidst the swarm, praying to see the eyes that once danced with love. Hoping he’d find you walking past, his favourite sweater dangling off your shoulders, the one he’d purposefully abandoned with you with the promise to return. His eyes dropped from the ground below, shifting to the black tie secured around his wrist; a hairtie of yours you’d asked him to keep on hand, one he refused to part with even after his absence.

His feet, unwarranted and perhaps in a detrimental act, carried him back to the bed, swiping his phone from its place on the mattress. Deft fingers dialed your number and hit the call button before sensibility could prevent his actions. A lurch of nauseous threatened his insides as he lifted the phone to his ear, counting each torturous ring.

"Hello?"

Silence followed your question, his mind tirelessly working overtime to process the sweet melody that momentarily filled his ears. His lips parted, words vacant from his tongue as a plethora of notions ran his thoughts.

"How’s your family?" "Have you heard about me since?" "Can you forgive me?" "You meant everything to me." "Did you keep my sweater?" "I remembered your number." "I’m sorry it didn’t work." "I’m sorry I didn’t try."

"Hi," he exhaled, a pitiful outcome of the list of words he wished he could spew. "It’s Spencer- Spencer Reid," he corrected, his eyes screwing shut in a horrid pang of embarrassment. "I, uh, I don’t know if you remember me but I… I’m back in Chicago and I just wanted…" His voice faded out, a noose of regret tightening around his throat until his words choked. "I thought of you," he admitted, voice nearly imperceptible. "An- and I guess, uhm.. I miss you. I know how things left off but I.." A heavy sigh passed through his lips, shaking his head as his brows drew in. "I wanted to hear your voice."