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inshelliesworld · 1 year

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Buckle up. This is long.

Last night after dinner w/my fam I watched the SAG awards so I am a little behind on the conversation around the Chris Evans Clown Show Comedy Hour. However I read a couple of asks received by @nancydrewwouldnever about how he’s been looking like the Raggedy Andy version of his normal self these past few months and I couldn’t agree more.

I thought so watching the SMA videos People put out.

Back during my more naïve days, I just thought he was possibly exhausted and that could very well still be true. But after the rabbit hole I’ve been down for the past couple of months, I am of the opinion he's exhausted for a different reason than work requirements. Which is just that – my opinion: observation mixed with speculation.

I don’t think this RS – if it is rooted in PR like I think it is – was ever intended to last this long. From what I have gathered, the Netflix show and movie for which AB would have benefited the most having a lot of attention were originally supposed to both release in the first half of 2022. One or both were delayed, the show being very delayed -from first/second quarter all the way to the last quarter of the year. So not only did she lose out on a bump for the movie, but by the time her show finally launched it pretty much had already been axed by NF. So when Mr. SMA 2022 does the CP Marathon (horribly) with her, the only project she has going on at the time is hanging by a thread.

That's her fault for being lazy and entitled. A million golden opportunities were missed by her/her team, but I feel like Chris wasn’t going to sell anything very well anyway, as he likely was being pissy about this situationshit lasting so long. Which led me to thinking that “laser focus” press question was a plant to tie back to the earlier article BUT made me think it could possibly have been contrived as a way to signify the end of their "RS" had it gone to plan. The question would allow room for him to insinuate he was single again and “focused on finding the right partner” to “pour himself into” bc “awe, shucks, I’m just so unlucky in love…” 💀

BUT THAT CAN’T HAPPEN… he can’t signal the end of something that hasn’t yet been announced. So it looked to the viewer, and especially his fandom, that he was signaling his singlehood – and for his fans, to debunk the rumors flying around about his Lolita. NOW he has to stutter around and trap himself in word prisons and go take a quick pap sprint the same time as SMA announcement bc that’s when the show drops and do more photos and BS to sell the OVER year-long narrative when they were really prepped to do a 9ish-mos storyline. All the OG pics and scares (IMO) that were preemptively shot not only look slightly better but they also would have fit in with starting the RS storyline Fall 2021 and, if nothing would have been delayed, the end falling somewhere Summer 2022.

I think this is why he does such a shit job selling it. He struggles to sell intimacy anyway, but he’s not even giving it the ole college try bc he’s pissed off that it’s taken more time than he expected and dragging his feet. I mean…. All these rumors about the same chick for months HAS to have a negative impact on his harem, right?? 😂 Now she’s pissed that he’s dragging his feet – or maybe she wanted it to turn into more than what it is and he’s noped the fuck out – so she throws a hissy fit with the yoga cert mess, her mom’s pic, and her OF shower pictorial.

It's possible had this not dragged along for this long, all the dirt that has surfaced RE: her and her sOuLMaTes being racist, antisemetic, fat phobic, basically all around horrendous ppl that has TANKED his image and lost him a good portion of his fandom would have maybe not surfaced. The mess would have been announced, been annoying, and been over before anyone cared enough to dig that much - or at least make that big of a deal about it, bc he would have been rid of her. I know that this dumpster fire mimics SS a lot but I think that Chris agreeing to a much shorter version in the beginning is why there are SO MANY pictures all at once. He probs didn't want to do this for the 2 years or whatever that SS committed to.

I think he has thrown his own tantrum of “I ain’t doin this shit anymore” and has left it to someone else to handle which is why he is AWOL from everywhere, including going out to dinner with his friend/castmates, and not doing his own SM anymore (I personally don’t think he’s posting anything at all right now himself). Seems he’s also made sure that he/his team control the mass narrative to the GP.

I think they’re riding this shit show out until the end, letting their teams do whatever they need to do. Even if she has the DESIRE to show up for anything like the Twitter reading (was she even invited? Was she wanted by her castmates/showrunners? Hollywood is show BUSINESS afterall so even if she wasn’t wanted she would be expected to show up to make good on production companies’ investments & save face?) the situations aren’t really going to be great for her. There would be – and SHOULD BE – backlash involving the discriminatory posts, which she obvs has no intentions of denouncing. IMO she should have done it anyway for her fans, but her not doing it goes a long way to prove her entitlement, lazy ass attitude, and ungratefulness. But from the looks of those Star Power reports from IMDB that someone shared, it’s not her that’s hurting… it’s HIM. 🤡

He’s suffering greatly, which is also deserved, and he very likely knows it. It has taken a noticeable toll on his looks, his presence, his gait, and his energy. He looks like a shell of his former self bc he is. And he’s seemingly off licking his wounds until he can start his Chris Evans Redemption Tour.

I would like to put it out into the universe that my birthday is next month and it falls within their usual “drop” timeframe so it would be a fantastic birthday gift if March’s bomb was the BUA.

#Chris Evans #PR #shit show #birthday wish #Pisces season #please end the misery

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aperrywilliams · 2 years

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Birthday Wish (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credit to the creator)

Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Being in love with your best friend sometimes leads you to test the limits. Maybe you’re not as much in the friend zone as you thought.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: This one is a softy. Tits are mentioned once (as a joke), and a boner is mentioned once, too (not explicit).

A/N: This one is about typical friends in love. I’m a sucker for that trope, and I’m sorry (no, I’m not sorry). Do you want to be added to the taglist? Go HERE

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*Reader’s POV*

Being in love with your best friend seems like a typical rom-com trope. I knew that. But not falling for Spencer wasn’t an option for me. I never stood a chance of thwarting that.

He’s sweet and handsome. By far, the most fascinating and intelligent guy I have known.

Maybe his social skills don’t go too far, but neither do mine. I guess that’s one of the reasons why we find a connection so quickly.

I joined the team four years ago and have been in love with Spencer since three.

My feelings have not gone unnoticed. By now, I think the whole team knows, except for Spencer himself.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to think he hasn’t realized it yet. Perhaps he is trying to avoid telling me he only sees me as a friend. Maybe the truth is he pretends to be oblivious, so he doesn’t hurt my feelings.

I don’t know what is worst, honestly.

But all the jokes or pep talks from Penelope, Emily, and JJ aside, I can’t bring myself to get my confession out with him.

Right now, I’m in Garcia’s with Prentiss, sharing a bottle of wine as I complain about my bad luck in the love department.

But the ladies don’t give up on me.

“Do what?!” I almost spilled the wine in my mouth at Garcia’s words.

“You did hear me, sugar plump. Just tell him. Boy genius is so oblivious that if you don’t tell him directly, he won’t notice. Unless you shove your tits in front of his face,” Garcia pointed. Emily snorted at the idea.

“Pen! Come on,” I groaned, sipping my wine to hide the crimson tinting my cheeks.

“Actually, it is not a bad option,” Prentiss prompted, backing up Garcia.

“What are you guys talking about? You know I can’t tell him! It would ruin our friendship.”

“You don’t know that!” Garcia squealed.

“Why don’t you test him? So you can be sure about his feelings, uh?” Emily suggested.

“And how do I do that?”

The only thing I thought to do was to tell him some way, but I would never dare to do it at this point.

“Have you flirted with him before? Acting all seductive?” Prentiss questioned. I narrowed my eyes, thinking about what the point was.

“No. Why should I?”

“Oh, come on. Then how do you know Spencer only sees you as a friend if you haven’t tried that yet? I mean, he’s a guy after all,” she shrugged.

I did know that. But it’s Spencer. He’s not like any other guy.

God, they are making me doubt and giving me hope for something I knew was impossible.

“I don’t know, Em. I mean, yeah, I had played the coquette card before but never with Spencer,” I stated, sipping my wine.

“Well, it’s time to try it then,” Garcia put a hand on my shoulder to give seriousness to her statement.

Jeez, what I’m about to do?

The plan was simple. I would start flirting with Spencer at every chance I could have and notice his reaction.

Yeah, very simple. For them, because for me, it was like being another person.

First attempt. One afternoon, I spotted Spencer at his desk with no coffee. Moving faster, I fixed a mug and strolled to him. Setting the item on the desk, he perked up his head to look who had left the precious liquid there.

“Hey, handsome. I thought that beautiful brain of yours could need this,” I said cockily. At the pet name, he narrowed his eyes but smiled nonetheless. It’s not that I never make coffee for him, but I usually just set the cup, point out how exhausted he looks, and leave.

“Uh- thank you.”

What now? Should I make small talk? He’s looking at me as if I want to say something. Shit. What do I do now?

“You’re welcome,” was the only thing I let out, quickly sneaking to the other side of the bullpen. I didn’t dare to look back at him. My cheeks were burning, and I was sure anyone could see it.

I tried again days later. We were in the jet, and I sat in front of Spencer. He was reading a book, and when he noticed my presence, he looked at me with a smile.

Fuck, every time I see that smile, my knees go weak.

“I didn’t see that one before,” I pointed. Spencer checked his outfit to realize I was talking about his purple cardigan.

“Oh, this one. Yeah. It’s new.”

“It looks great on you. It’s a color that suits you, you know?” I complimented, winking at him.

Spencer frowned with his cheeks a tint of pink.

“Thank you. I guess the others don’t look too good then,” Spencer deduced.

My eyes widened at the implication.

“No. No. No. That wasn’t what I wanted to say. I mean, you look good in every outfit. No matter what you wear, you’re attractive nonetheless.”

What am I saying, for the love of God!

“It’s not that I think you’re attractive. I mean, you clearly are. But it’s not what I notice about you all the time.”

Spencer tried to follow my speech as I stumbled over my words, but he seemed confused. I couldn’t blame him.

“Uh, I think I need to check the files from this case. Sorry.” I said as I hastened to move to the other side of the jet, hiding my face behind a manila folder.

I tried a few more times, but it was a waste of time. Every flirtatious comment or compliment didn’t have the desired effect. Spencer would be thinking I’m weird by now. And he would be right because I do feel weird.

“What do you mean by touching him?”

“Like something he could notice as different. Little touches, something subtle but he can Feel,” Emily suggested when I recounted my previous unsuccessful shots.

It seemed a bad idea, but I was already into this. And I must admit I was curious to know what Spencer was thinking.

It’s not that I didn’t touch him before, but I always do it with a friendly hug or squeezing his shoulder or arm.

Risky? Yes. But what could I lose? Besides embarrassing myself in front of Spencer and ending up being the idiot in love with her best friend who gets rejected by him.

We were on a case in Texas. Hotch assigned Spencer and me to the geographic profile. We were alone in the meeting room working. When he was drawing lines on the map, I subtly brushed his hand with mine pointing to some streets. He didn’t notice, so I did it again some minutes later.

“So what about these?” I asked. Spencer went silent for a couple of seconds before clearing his throat.

Shit. He noticed. Was he annoyed?

“Uh - yeah. It could be,” Spencer mumbled.

Was he nervous? Fuck. I couldn’t decipher his body language—what a waste of profiler I am.

Still, if I couldn’t know what was in Spencer’s mind, I knew my advances didn’t go unnoticed.

I confirmed it one afternoon when he left the precinct for a witness interview, and I needed to fill him with some last info. Without other thought, I ran and stopped him grabbing his hand.

I could feel how he froze on the spot before turning to see me.

His eyes darted to my hand holding his. Out of instinct, I retreated mine, blushing furiously.

His mouth opened and closed several times before saying a word.

“Is - uh. Is something wrong?” He asked, confused.

“Uh- sorry. It’s about Robertson’s daughter,” I clarified quickly so the awkward moment could be forgotten soon.

And so on. I think I lost count of the times I did things like that in the following weeks, and I only got a nervous Spencer and nothing in conclusion. Or rather, a single one conclusion: I was making things odd between us. Now it was common to see him stutter and blush around me.

Our movie nights turned kind of awkward too. Several times I could see Spencer inspecting me from the corner of my eyes. But he never said anything. Anything at all.

I was so frustrated that my only explanation was I fell into the friend zone for the rest of eternity.

Garcia, Prentiss, and JJ didn’t know how to cheer me up.

The idea of a girls’ night came up, but I wasn’t really in the mood. Also, my birthday was just some weeks ahead, and I wasn’t in a celebration spirit this year.

“Nope. We are not going to let you get all blue for love. If he didn’t do anything for you at this point, it’s because he doesn’t deserve you. You will celebrate your birthday, and you will have a great time. We’re going to take care of that,” Penelope stated. Emily and JJ nodded in agreement. And even if I didn’t like the idea, I had no energy to argue with them.

To say that Garcia got away organizing my birthday is nothing next to all that fact entailed. First, she convinced me to have a party in a fancy club in DC, where she rented a VIP area. Also, she invited the entire sixth floor of the FBI headquarters. Finally, with the girls’ help, she made sure I chose the sexiest outfit in my wardrobe.

Although initially I felt a little overwhelmed, later I said to myself, ‘what the hell?’

I deserved to have fun and enjoy the night.

With Spencer or without him there.

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*Spencer’s POV*

Clubs have never been my scene. It’s weird to say it in that way. Not that I have a ‘scene’ I feel comfortable with. I just like simple things. Reading a book or watching a movie with (Y/N) it’s enough for me.

But tonight I had to be here. It’s (Y/N)’s birthday, and for some reason, she wanted to celebrate in a club.

I should recognize that she’s been acting weird lately, and I don’t know why. Complimenting me for almost anything I say or do and asking me random questions she had never asked. Telling jokes I could not understand, using pet names with me that she had never used before.

She even has touched me more than she usually does.

It’s not that bothers me—quite the opposite. I like having her close. We have been friends for a long time, and how can I explain it? I think I have feelings for her. I mean, she is amazing. How could I not have feelings for her?

Okay. Did I say feelings? Understatement of the century. I love her. That’s it. I am utterly in love with her. That’s the painful truth. Yeah, in love with my best friend.

The worst part is that I know she doesn’t feel the same. And despite Morgan’s encouragement, I know I don’t stand a chance with her.

How do I know that? It’s easy. For someone as unique as she, I’m just friend material.

That’s why I feel confused about the past weeks. Is (Y/N) acting weird because she knows I love her? And she doesn’t know how to react? Is she trying to be polite, giving me more attention before crushing my heart forever?

It’s painful. Being so close to her and couldn’t do anything about it. It’s so pathetic that my mind started to play tricks on me. Every word, every touch of hers sends to my body waves of electricity that I misread like mutual attraction.

God, I’m doomed to be the eternal friend in love.

But like a good friend, I’m in this club, enduring Morgan’s teasing.

“C’mon, pretty boy. You should tell her. All that you already told me? I think it is a good sign. She likes you back,” Derek insisted for the umpteenth time.

“No, Morgan. I know I’m misinterpreting the whole thing. She only sees me as a friend,” I clarified, sipping my scotch.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Reid. Why is it so difficult to believe that she could like you back?”

“Because she doesn’t. Period. And please, I don’t want to keep talking about it,” I grumbled. Morgan held up his hands in surrender.

“Okay. Okay. Don’t get mad at me. I’m just saying that-” He trailed off as his eyes got lost in something happening behind me.

“Wow,” Morgan exhaled, now openly focusing on the entrance. I turned to see what caught his attention, and I saw her.

I think my heart stopped for a couple of seconds.

She looked so stunning walking into the club. I’m sure my head started to spin.

Don’t get me wrong. For me, (Y/N) is always the most beautiful girl in the room. Gorgeous. Flawless.

But tonight, I was dazzled by her. And I don’t think that was the perfect word to describe it, honestly.

Dressed in a tight black dress with a revealing neckline, she pared the outfit with heels that spotlighted her legs - legs I shouldn’t be looking so focused.

Once she spotted us, a warm smile formed on her lips. God, those lips. They were tinted in dark red lipstick.

“Man, you have to make a move on her. You are going to lose your chance if you don’t,” Derek advised. He was right, but how could I? I didn’t want to be rejected. Not by her.

“Hey guys,” she greeted.

“Hey, little mama. Happy birthday!” Morgan cheered, hugging her.

I was so dumbfounded that I thought I could faint.

“I’m happy you could make it,” she said, now looking at me, arms open for a hug.

Did she really want to see me there? Sure, you foolish. You’re her friend. But remember, just her friend.

“Of course. I couldn’t miss your birthday party. Happy birthday, by the way,” I responded, hugging her tightly.

It was true; I needed to be there even if my mind wandered about her having fun with other people who weren’t me.

Am I a masochistic bastard? Yes. I am.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” she thanked me once we parted from our embrace.

I could have melted on the spot just from that couple of seconds in her arms.

Get your shit together, Reid.

Before I could say anything else, the rest of the team approached to welcome the birthday girl.

********

*Reader’s POV*

I tried not to focus so hard on Spencer. I tried. But he looked so good that my eyes couldn’t stop darting to him. When I entered the club, he and Morgan were the first ones I greeted, but for some reason, Spencer looked tense. Indeed, he looked tense most of the night. I intended not to think too hard about that, so I decided to have fun. It was my birthday. Right?

But I couldn’t stop wondering whether tonight would be even better if I could hang out with him like we were a couple. Being able to hug him lovingly and kiss him. God, how I wish I could kiss this man. Unfortunately, the reality was different. And that birthday wish would never come true in my life.

Assuming my defeat, I tried to take Penelope’s advice, and after ordering a few drinks, I headed out to the dance floor with the girls. Derek was the only one who followed us and started dancing with us.

Spencer sat in the booth, nursing a glass of whiskey. After a while, I stopped looking at him and began to feel the eyes of several men. It was strange because I don’t particularly appreciate having so much attention on me, but it felt good now. It felt good to be admired and noticed. Something I wish I had from someone else, but hey, that’s the way it is.

As the night progressed, my feet started to hurt. Dancing wasn’t something I liked too much, but liquor encouragement helped. At some point, I needed a break, so I headed to the bar to grab a drink.

Waiting for the barman to give me my tequila, I spotted Spencer in the same booth he was in before. He was alone, focused on his empty glass. I felt kind of bad because it was clear he wasn’t having fun. I knew Spencer doesn’t like clubs. I’m not too fond of clubs as well, but I gave in on Pen’s idea. After asking the barman for another drink, I strolled to where Spencer was, settling a scotch on the table for him and my tequila.

“Maybe you need this,” I pointed. Spencer looked at me and chuckled.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, grabbing the glass and sipping.

“Do you mind if I join?” I asked cautiously. It wasn’t my intention to mess with him. I already assumed my defeat.

“Of course not. Please.” he gestured to the seat. “Having fun?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I responded. Not so convincing, though. “And you?”

“Same,” he replied, darting his eyes to his glass.

Why didn’t he want to look at me anymore? Why was everything so awkward between us now? I hated this and didn’t know how to fix it. I should never have listened to the girls with this. But the damage was done, and I had to clear things up with Spencer.

I took a deep breath and jumped into the void.

“What’s wrong, Spencer? Did I do something bad to you?”

Spencer’s eyes snapped from his glass to me.

“What? No!” He squealed.

“So what happens? I see you constantly nervous around me, and we don’t talk like we used to. Please tell me if I did something wrong so I can fix it. I miss you,” I recognized, feeling my eyes going glassy.

“Trust me. You haven’t done anything wrong. Seriously,” Spencer stated. I frowned, not quite believing what he was saying.

“But something is up. Are you okay? Can I help you? You know you can trust me.” I insisted.

Spencer sighed as if he was looking for the right words to say.

“It’s just- uh. I don’t know how to explain it. I’m sorry,” he acknowledged, shooking his head.

“Hey, you can tell me,” I encouraged, scooting to his side and squeezing his forearm to reassure him.

Spencer’s eyes met mine, and we stared for a few seconds. I was hoping he could say what was in his head, but I could only watch as he began to shudder and stutter. I could swear I saw him turn white, even in the club’s darkness.

“Are you okay? You look pale,” I pointed, now touching his forehead.

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Me? Oh, no, no. I’m okay. Uh, it just- uh, maybe the alcohol makes me feel dizzy?” And without prompting, he stood from his seat. I looked at him for some clarification.

“Spencer?”

“Uh- I think I need some air. I’m sorry.” He apologized, walking away in the exit direction.

If I was confused at the beginning, now it was worse.

Besides losing the chance to have the man of my dreams, I had now lost my best friend. Great!

What else could go wrong tonight? Wiping away the tears beginning to fall from my eyes, I finished drinking my tequila before heading back to where the rest of the team was.

What did it matter if my feet hurt? Maybe swapping one pain for another might do the trick.

********

*Spencer’s POV*

I was feeling dizzy, but the alcohol did nothing to do with that. It was because of her so close to me.

Smelling her perfume only made things worse. My thoughts wandered to scenarios where I could get lost in her fragrance, smelling every portion of her skin. God, if only I had the chance, I swear I would worship every part of her like the deity she is.

Those lewd thoughts made me so bothered that I could barely conceal the heat running through my body. Suddenly my pants felt embarrassingly tighter.

And then she asked me what was wrong. Fuck, she noticed, and now she wanted to know. I couldn’t admit the truth. I couldn’t say it when I was feeling the way I did.

I had to get out of there before I made a fool of myself. Without warning, I jumped from my seat.

“Spencer?”

“Sorry. I - uh. I need some air. I’m sorry,” I stuttered as I struggled to move to the exit.

The cold outside helped calm me down but, at the same time, made me realize what I had just done. I practically ran away, leaving (Y/N) possibly confused and upset.

I screwed it up.

I thought about going home. I didn’t dare go back to the club to explain something I didn’t even know how to explain.

I’m a fucking coward. That was the right moment to say everything. To confess my love.

Defeated, I sat on the sidewalk to lament my lack of courage while I saw couples making out around me.

I owed her an explanation. At this point, I didn’t know which was better, so I stood outside the club waiting for the first thing to happen: see her or freeze to death.

The cold was nothing compared to my regret. While in my head, I tried to think of what to say to her. Just in case she walked out that door. I was about to give up and go home.

Then I heard her voice.

“Spencer? I thought you left.”

I quickly got up from the sidewalk, brushing the dirt off my pants.

“Uh – well, I needed some air,” I repeated the same thing I said before.

“But it’s freezing here, and it’s been at least an hour,” she pointed, checking her watch.

“Kind of. But I’m okay. Are you leaving? It’s still early,” I asked, with my hands stuffed in my pockets.

“I - uh. Yeah. I know.”

There was something on her face that I didn’t expect to see. It wasn’t anger, and it wasn’t confusion. It was sadness. It broke my heart to notice it. She looked sad on the night she was supposed to enjoy and be happy. Was it my fault? I didn’t want to be self-centered, but I guess my erratic behavior wasn’t helping the cause.

Spencer Reid, you must apologize.

“I want to say I’m sorry. We were talking, and I just stood and left. It wasn’t right,” I said, taking a step closer. (Y/N) shook her head.

“It’s okay. I know I’ve made you uncomfortable,” she shrugged, playing with her purse’s strap.

“What? No! What do you mean?” I hastened to refute.

She did nothing incorrect. It’s been only me acting like an idiot all the time!

“Spencer, please don’t make me say it,” she grumbled, averting her gaze.

To say what exactly? Now, this was getting confusing for me.

“I’m sorry, but I’m lost. You did nothing wrong there,” I assured her.

“So why you left?”

“Uh. Well, I - I was-”

“Uncomfortable. I know,” she insisted.

“Yeah, but that was nothing to do with-” I tried to explain.

“I shouldn’t have listened to the girls,” she said under her breath, but I heard it.

“What?”

She sighed, a sad smile forming on her lips.

“What I have been doing in the past weeks. The flirting. All of it. I’m so stupid. I just thought- I don’t know.” My eyes widened. Wait, she said flirt?

“It’s silly. I’m sorry. But don’t worry, I won’t do it again,” she apologized, turning to walk away.

“(Y/N), wait!”

I stopped her holding her wrist gently. She turned to look at me again. Her cheeks were flushed red. I didn’t know if it was a mixture of cold or mortification.

“You – you were actually flirting with me?” I questioned, looking into her eyes.

“Spencer, please don’t play games with me. I’m really not in the mood,” she complained.

“I’m honestly asking. I don’t want to annoy you. Were you consciously flirting with me?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to determine if my question was genuine.

“Yes. That’s not the reason why you were awkward?” She asked, frowning.

“I mean, yeah. But because I thought it was my brain playing tricks. Why in the earth would you want to flirt with me?” I clarified. She scoffed.

“Are you kidding me right now? Spencer, I - ” she paused, looking afraid of what she wanted to say.

I expectantly waited for her to continue.

“Fuck it,” she cursed under her breath before looking into my eyes. “I’m in love with you. I think I have been from the moment I met you. It’s just that I admitted it to myself four years ago.”

“You- in love – with me?”

I think I might have passed out right then and there.

I was not giving credit to what I was hearing. Not in my wildest dreams would I have expected it.

“Yeah. And I didn’t know if I was misinterpreting our friendship. So I wanted to see if you felt something, but I ruined it. I know you don’t feel the same,” she lamented, with tears running down her cheeks.

“What? No! What are you talking about? It’s the opposite, actually!” I hastened to say.

I was ready to shout it from the rooftops.

“How is that?”

With a big smile on my lips, I took her hands in mine and squeezed them. She looked at me strangely.

“I love you. I fucking love you! Since- I don’t know – forever? Maybe the day you passed the glass doors in the bullpen for the first time. But I never dared to say anything because I thought you only saw me as a friend. And I was willing to live with that only to have you in my life,” I confessed.

She squeezed her eyes, trying to make sense of my words.

“Are you really...?”

“Yes! In love with you. Completely, body and soul. I swear,” I acknowledged, bringing one of her hands to my lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Fuck Spencer. I didn’t say anything either because I was sure she didn’t stand a chance with you!” She squealed.

“What good profilers we are, right,” I joked. She laughed.

Without complaining, I could feed on that laugh alone for the rest of my life.

Our eyes met again, and I swear I saw sparks coming out of them.

“God, you are so beautiful. You’re perfect,” I mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She blushed, looking down.

“Don’t say that. I’m far from that.”

I put my fingers under her chin to bring her gaze back to me, softly stroking her cheek with my thumb.

“No. You are. You are the kindest woman I know. So brave and smart. Always willing to help and listen. So funny, sexy, and gorgeous. I almost faint seeing you tonight, you know?”

She giggled as her hands rested on my chest.

“It’s good to know I can make you nervous for that reason and not because I’m freaking you out,” she pointed. I chuckled.

“You could never freak me out. I swear,” I declared, still stroking her cheeks and never breaking eye contact. She bit her bottom lip and then sighed.

“I didn’t think this was ever possible. Much less did I think it would be possible tonight,” she acknowledged. I narrowed my eyes.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her shoulders.

“That this looks like a lot like my birthday wish,” she explained.

“Oh yeah? Does it look alike? What it’s missing to be the same as your birthday wish?” I questioned.

“The kissing part,” she giggled. I chuckled—God, how I love this woman.

“Don’t worry; we can fix it.”

Cupping her cheeks, I leaned to brush my lips tentatively over hers. Her arms flew to wrap around my neck as we started to kiss properly. It wasn’t long before our kiss deepened, and we openly started making out outside the club.

Her lips were on mine. It felt like heaven. If it was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up.

But the best thing? I knew it was real.

We had nothing to envy of the couples that were around us. This one was our bubble. One that took us too long to fall into, but I never want to get out of again.

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