I am sorry, yesterday I was too busy to write the sequel so I did it today.
I hope you'll enjoy it. Thank you for your reviews and follows.
Have a nice moment.
"Thank you. "She replied.
Spencer, realizing that fact, apart from having rendered her phone, she knew nothing of him, so he told her:
"Spencer Reid. "
She replied:
"Asma Abulhawa. "
They were both caught in the crowd who bypassed, sometimes the hustling and swearing at them. It was true that in a world where everything was moving very quickly, they were motionless, as if frozen.
Spencer proposed up to the day he would sleep later. Once outside Spencer spotted a street vendor who was beginning to open his small shop. He bought two coffees and they continued their conversation.
"Are you a student? "Asked the young man showing bag woman.
"Yes. "She replied" I study civilizations and conflicts in the first century of Islam. "
Spencer nodded knowingly, it was a very interesting and very hard to address the neutrality issue when we were self-Muslim.
"Where are you from? "
"Detroit and you? "She replied.
Spencer smiled, he expected something more exotic than Detroit but it was an answer that seemed perfectly normal to him.
"Las Vegas. "He replied with a smile, the city of vice, gambling, and all extreme. All he knew was forbidden by Islam in all. It would probably take him for a servant of the devil.
"It's more colourful than Detroit. "She merely responding smiling before dipping his lips in hot coffee.
Spencer looked at her, her blue veil black flower pattern was sober, discreet and yet, like pink, he gave a special dimension to his face, it was as if she beamed inside he had no need to see more.
"How did you recognize me? "She asked
"Your face seemed familiar. "He replied.
They smiled.
"I'll have to let you Mr. Reid. "
"Spencer. "You corrected it.
"Spencer ... "Repeated the young woman before moving," I have to make a part of my memory. "
She was about to turn back when Spencer says:
"See you soon. "
"InshaAllah, if it is the will of Allah. "She said with a smile and greet before heading out into the crowd, throwing his empty cup in the trash. Spencer had the impression that she trust that they will meet again.
Spencer looked at her walking away before returning to the metro. He wanted to sleep.
For him nothing had moved. He sat on the couch, his stomach began to cry poor and he looked he could as well be food in his cupboards. A slice of bread and wave a little peanut butter would be enough to silence the protests of his stomach. He grabbed a glass of water and pills he swallowed in one gulp.
Then he went to his room, the bed was made, clean, square, as he had left. He put his phone on the bedside table and lay his head on the pillow. His eyes closed and he rocked to sleep. Full of strange dreams came to him, woods, wolves, flutes, a small girl wearing a pink scarf with blue flowers, then this crescent moon shining. All mixed up in his dreams, work, surveys, records, colors, nothing was clear. Sometimes it was completely out of reality. Therapy would not have changed anything, it was the reality revisited by his spirit and, at least, he had not had horrible visions.
When he awoke, it was 03.00 pm and had a headache. He looked out the window, the street outside was still in perpetual agitation and headache gave him the impression that people walked in his mind. He sought peace.
In the kitchen, he found his medication against headache and taken before sitting down in front of his chess game. Everything was frozen. Gideon ... this name still ringing in his mind. Gideon had was the father he had not and, ironically, as his biological father, he had abandoned in turn, give him no more signs of life. He had the impression of being the son of Gideon, the son he had so long ignored ... And then he was abandoned as a repetition of the mistakes of the past ... He should move on but secretly hoped he will be back ... if it was not for the team, it would be for him.
« Insh'Allah » he whispered.
Spencer put on his couch, he wondered for a moment what the others were doing. JJ imagining with her little boy and her husband, a good family life, Rossi probably cooked Italian with his future ex-wives, in good charmer, Morgan walking his dog in his neighborhood enjoying to meet girls , Prentiss who cared for her cat and probably phoned his family, Garcia network games or with her boyfriend, Kevin, Hotch with his son, a good father. And alone ... him. It was a little sad when it had never bothered before.
He wondered if he would know one day lucky to have someonewaiting for him somewhere and who will worry for his work, for his life. Sometimes it was difficult to say that his mother lived in psychiatric hospital and was struggling to be rational when it was hard to contact her to tell her that he felt desperately lonely tonight.
He took a book and began to read. It was his therapy against loneliness. Soon he returned to bed and work will be his routine the day after.