✓ | sick of losing soulmates [SPENCER REID]

10.1

10.1
( meant to be. )

☆ ★ ☆

spencer

He doesn't have to be a genius to realise that Iris isn't herself.

Like they always do, they leave work as soon as their shift is over and step out into the fading summer sunlight, which forces them to squint as they begin their walk down the sidewalk to their usual coffee place. Unlike she usually does, however, Iris doesn't brighten up his day, doesn't laugh and jump and crack a couple of jokes. For the first time, Iris has lost her spark.

But he doesn't push her. He's known her for four years, almost five now, and he knows her too well to do that. When she's ready, she'll come to him, and she'll talk to him, and then he'll help her.

For now, he waits while they walk quietly, and he orders himself a coffee and Iris a chocolate milkshake (her usual). He pays for both of them, which he's never done before; he always tries, but Iris usually throws a fit and ends up paying for herself. Today, she's too preoccupied with staring at her hands on the glass counter to even pay attention to what he's saying, nor the girl behind the counter blatantly flirting with him like she usually does.

Today's theme of the conversation: his new haircut.

"You look cute today," the barista says. Eve is the name Spencer remembers her telling him to call her, but it says Evelyn on the white name-tag pinned to her black button-down shirt. She cocks her head, leaning over the white marble counter as their coffees are being made by the machine behind her. "Do I sense something different?" She's joking. Obviously. The change is drastic and impossible not to notice.

"Oh, my hair, of course," he says with an awkward laugh, pushing it out of his eyes. "I got it cut a couple of days ago."

"Well, I can see that, Spencer," she teases sarcastically. Her smile turns to Iris, who she's come to know through their multiple visits in the past, but Iris is so visibly distracted that any words, any niceties, die on Evelyn's lips. Her eyes flick to Spencer, clearly a little worried, who shakes his head. She swallows, purses her lips worriedly, and mutters, "I'll get you guys some napkins," and disappears to the other end of the counter.

When they sit opposite each other in their usual booth, Iris finally speaks: "She's not wrong, you know." A small smile. "You do look good with that haircut. Could do with some gel, though. To keep it out of your eyes."

He runs a hand over the soft curls, freshly trimmed and washed with designer shampoo from the barbers. "Thanks," he says. Swallowing away his thoughts about how unlike herself she's acting (usually, she'd be red with jealousy at the sight of Eve flirting with him), he tries to cheer her up by saying, "The barber did it accidentally: I said cut a few inches off, but he thought I wanted it so there were only a few inches left. I had a few doubts at first, but so far I've only heard positive remarks."