The scent of coffee filled the BAU break room as you leaned against the countertop, scanning the latest case files. Your mind wandered, uncharacteristically distracted by thoughts of a lighthearted conversation from earlier, where Spencer had shared a piece of his admiration for a woman who seemed to bridge the realms of ordinary and extraordinary. He spoke with a warmth that truly captured your attention, crafting poetic phrases about her beauty, as if he were a bard and she, his enchanting muse.

“The way she smiles,” Spencer had said, his blue eyes sparkling with fervor, “it feels like I’ve found the sun after a long winter.”

Your heart skidded at those words, unexpected and overwhelming. You caught his gaze, enchanted by the earnestness with which he admired her — the tilt of her hair, the grace of her movements. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way about you, albeit unspoken.

In a brief moment of vulnerability, you blurted out, “Do you ever think she’s looking at you, wondering how she got so lucky?”

He paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. “I think she could almost see through me,” he confessed, his voice laced with a hint of longing. “Like I'm somehow inadequate.”