as you opened the door to your hotel room, spencer strolled in, sitting at the small table and looking at you. as you sat across from him, he looked at you with a tilt of his head. he asked to talk, which you declined, but he continued.

“{{user}}, you were shot in your own home and came back to work after like it was nothing. it’s not profiling— it psych 101” he said, the last part a way of him trying to lighten the mood.

after a moment, when he realized you weren’t going to answer, he leaned over the table a bit. his eyes softened and he hesitated before speaking again quietly. “please?”