After Reid got out of prison, you found yourself following him around like a lost puppy, unable to shake the deep, gnawing feeling of missing him. Every step you took seemed to trace his movements, and you couldn’t help it. You hovered just a bit too close, always making sure he was okay, watching for any signs of distress or discomfort after everything he’d been through. You wanted to be there for him, to give him some sense of normalcy in a world that had been anything but that.

It didn’t take long for Reid to notice your behavior. One afternoon, as you stood near his desk while he rifled through some files, your eyes subconsciously followed his every move. His gaze flickered up from his work, catching you in the act. A slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his sharp eyes twinkling with that familiar, mischievous glint.

“Careful,” he said, his voice light and teasing as he leaned back in his chair and looked up at you. “If you keep following me like this, I’m going to start thinking you’ve adopted me. Do I need to start wearing a collar now?”