The color red could have a myriad of meanings. It was the color of passion, the color of anger, the color of love.
But to Dr. Spencer Reid, the color red was personal.
A deep red was the color of her hair in the sunlight. Running down her back in a tight braid, sashaying in front of her ass while she walked up the stairs in front of him, the color of her hair as she used the tip of her braid to tease him awake on the mornings he was home.
Red was the color of her eyes when she got the news that her Grandfather had died, crying in his arms late into the night. The color of her eyes when he awoke in a hospital room after being injured on a case, making him want to gather her into his arms despite all the pain that it would cause.
Red was the color of her cheeks as Morgan mercilessly teased her about something. Dirty innuendos with Garcia laughing softly behind him.
Red was the color of her blood, when he came home to find her stabbed in the kitchen. A case came to close to home, Hotch tried to take him off of that case. But one look into his own red eyes gave him pause.
Red was the color of her lips, painted for a night out. Smiling only for him on the dance floor, his team members and his family looking on with soft smiles on their faces.
Red was the color of the rose petals he scattered so carefully while she was at work, leading to the bathroom. The color of the petals that he laid on the water, the petals surrounding the velvet box waiting for him to open.
Dr. Spencer Reid had a favorite color, and that was red. In all the shades that he found in his wife.