𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 [spencer reid]

14. breaking your heart

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 screen, her eyes burning holes through a Google search of LSAT practice exams. She very well should have been sending emails, but her subconscious chirped at her to tackle other priorities. The various scholarly links before her were intimidating, and the brunette was unsure of what to click first. Feelings of anxiety overwhelmed her, but just as she was shakily dragging her mouse to the first result, her office phone rang.

Relieved to have been saved by the bell, Francesca picked up the line. "Attorney Jackson's office."

"Hey, Francesca," the cheerful voice of her building's secretary spoke. "Do you have a minute?"

"Um, yeah. Why?" Francesca questioned, unsure of what the main secretary could possibly need from her.

"There's someone here to see you," the woman replied, as if Francesca should've known.

Francesca was even more confused. "I wasn't expecting anyone."

"I apologize if I caught you off-guard. Should I send him up?"

Him. Francesca bit her lip, secretly wishing her surprise guest was who she thought it was. "I can come down. Give me a few."

"Of course."

After quickly checking in with her boss, Francesca shuffled to the elevator. The descent dropped her at the building's lobby, a rustic yet intricate structure for D.C. She walked from the elevator hallway to the front of the lobby, where the secretary's desk and waiting area were housed. Francesca made a beeline for the front desk, not trying to get her hopes up by searching the various people lounging on couches and chairs. The secretary, Isabelle, sat behind her paperwork. Her head lifted to see Francesca approach her, and she wore a smile.

"Hi," Isabelle said softly, standing up.

"Hey," Francesca responded, crossing her arms. "Who's here?"

Isabelle pointed over Francesca's shoulder. The girl looked in that direction and followed the path Isabelle's finger provided all the way to a pair of black, high top converse sticking out from behind a wall. Pursing her lips, Francesca faced Isabelle again briefly. "Thanks."

Francesca practically skipped towards the familiar shoes, an eager grin forming. She peeked around the wall, eyes greeted with a precious view of Spencer Reid – a small pizza box and a single rose in hand. Francesca hugged tighter to the wall, simply admiring as he failed to acknowledge her presence just yet due to his preoccupation with the tapping of his feet.