❝ YOU KNOW, YOU'RE RUDE. ❞
❝ WOW, YOU'RE LIKE A DETECTIVE OR SOMETHING. ❞
Scout Wiley has two sides. The loudmouth mailroom girl who hates coffee, and the trained assassin who never misses her target. Thanks to years of training, these lives hav...
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SCOUT STOOD OUTSIDE his apartment, her heart feeling as though it was crawling up her esophagus.
She woke up early the next day after her talk with Xander, still unsure about what she wanted to do. Of course, she decided that she was going to tell Spencer the truth last night. But now as she had her hand out to knock on his front door, the solution wasn't as obvious.
"I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't, huh?"
If Scout told him the truth, she didn't know how he'd react.
No, that was a lie.
She knew he'd be livid. He would push her away, yell at her, maybe never talk to her again. And the whole team would be on his side, which would result in some form of legal punishment to be taken over by the government. Her life would be ruined.
Scout inwardly grimaced, retracting her hand away with a pause.
But, all those thoughts weren't new. She knew this was coming from the beginning she became too invested with the BAU, it was only a matter of 'when'.
The only difference was that she had control over the situation. She would be the one to tell him everything. She would be the one speaking the truth. She had the power and the ability to be gentle with him.
No one else would be outing her.
So, she puffed up her shoulders and sternly knocked on the door. It felt strangely familiar, like all those moments she would visit him before they ever started dating.
Like the time she picked him up before their undercover case, like the time she drunkly pushed herself onto him, or all those movie marathons and late nights doing whatever they wanted, for however long they wanted to do it.
"One last perfect day. And after that, I'll tell him." Scout whispered quietly to herself, toying with the engagement ring that she never took off.
The door swung open, revealing the face she had missed so dearly this past month.
"Scout? What are you doing here?"
Spencer looked tired. He was still dressed in his pajamas; an old t-shirt, fading sweatpants, and brightly colored yet mismatched socks. The wavy locks on his head were messy, like he had just woken up within the past hour.
Her brow scrunched together and pulled out her phone, "Spence, it's like 1 PM, did you just wake up?"
