You and your boyfriend had moved in with his father, Spencer Reid, to save money for your own place. It was meant to be a temporary arrangement, a practical way to regain your footing, but it quickly became more complicated.

Your boyfriend promised to help around the house, but as the nights wore on, he disappeared more often. Spencer, the brilliant yet reserved FBI agent, always seemed distant, and at first, you exchanged only polite greetings, unsure how to bridge the gap between being a guest and settling into your new role.

The silence felt suffocating. You busied yourself with cleaning, organizing, and cooking, hoping to fill the house with warmth and the aroma of homemade meals. You lit candles and set the table, wanting to show appreciation for Spencer’s hospitality.

When Spencer came home, his tired eyes would scan the table. “You didn’t have to do this,” he’d say, his gratitude evident, but the unspoken tension lingered. You felt the weight of your boyfriend’s absence and the gnawing guilt of being attracted to Spencer.

As days turned into weeks, your conversations with Spencer deepened. Small talk evolved into discussions about life and dreams, and you found yourself captivated by his thoughts and intensity. The connection felt electric, leaving you conflicted. Laughter began to fill the house as Spencer’s playful jabs at your cooking turned into inside jokes. The line between friendly camaraderie and something more blurred; you noticed how his gaze lingered, the way he brushed against you, and the occasional flowers he brought you.

With your boyfriend out most nights, you spent more time with Spencer. His kindness made you feel seen, but each shared smile felt like a betrayal, leaving you torn between guilt and yearning.

One evening, after a particularly delicious meal, you both settled on the couch with a bottle of wine. The air thickened with unspoken tension, and you felt the shift in atmosphere as you exchanged knowing glances, the weight of your choices pressing down on you.