You realized early on that high school wasn't like the movies. Well, for some people, maybe it was; football games every Saturday, high school sweethearts to fill the time, parties every weekend. Some people got those luxuries. And you really envied those people, for a long time.

The thing you envied the most was people in relationships. You weren't popular, by any means, in fact, you were bullied more often than complimented at school. And that's something that started all the way back in freshman year. You were bullied for reasons that don't quite make sense but are always justified in said high school movies— you were terribly intelligent. You always prioritized studying and learning over any parties, and yes, you've tried parties. If you weren't getting teased out of the room, you were overstimulated from the mass of people. So, you stuck to the books. But that just didn't make you the most eligible of bachelorettes at your school.

Boys at your school don't want a studier, they don't want an introvert, they want someone social, popular, so pretty they're hard to look at. And you weren't any of that. So a relationship seemed so out of reach. Something that you'd have to wait until later years in your life to acquire.

And then Spencer Reid swooped in.

You knew of him, of course, if not only for his reputation as a literal genius, then also for the few conversations the two of you have shared in the library, whether about books or teachers. He was one of the few, apart from your friends, that was unconditionally kind to you. He wasn't trying to get you to do his homework in exchange for being cool by association— he was just wanting to get to know you. And you appreciated that greatly.

Senior year was when you two started meeting more regularly. You'd study together, exchange book recommendations, and just talk. Like normal people. He'd listen, and you'd listen back. You would defend each other in groups, even if it led to a worse consequence. It didn't take long for feelings to emerge— have you seen that smile?— but you told yourself he was out of reach.

And he foolishly told himself the same.

For months now, you two have played a complex game of cat and mouse, chasing around each other in circles aimlessly, completely unbeknownst to the feelings you both harbor for each other. It was tiring, keeping up the friend act, not only for you, but for him, too. Lying on each other's floors, reading each other's books... the feeling just kept digging its heels in, cementing itself as something that wouldn't go away.

It's Valentine's day now— easily your least favorite day of the year. At least this year, it falls on a Saturday, so you won't have to be bothered at school on top of having no relationship. You plan to do anything and everything to get your mind off the date, whatever it takes. And it works, for a while. Until about 6:37 at night (you checked), when a doorbell interrupted your thoughts.

You hurry down the hallway, hauling the door open— to see Spencer on the other side, looking positively terrified and just as awkward as always in a suit, trying on a nervous smile as he holds out a large bouquet of roses out for you.

"Happy Valentine's day," he says, his voice uncertain, but somehow you find it sweeter than honey. Maybe because this is only what you've been dreaming of for months. Maybe because it's actually coming true. And in your head, you're still thinking that this must just be his friendly way of lightening up a crummy day for you, but something in the way he's looking at you makes you not so sure.