Disclaimer: I own nothing relating to Criminal Minds, not the characters or their histories. I do own my OC though!
I also don't own the quote from the narrative poem The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri.
Spencer Reid was a bundle of excitement as he attempted to manoeuvre through the busy lines of his favourite coffee shop before heading into work. One hand clutched at a heavy satchel, practically overflowing with files, important documents and a rather heavy book he had managed to wedge in for the potential jet trip he could be facing. The other hand gripped a thick and clearly old book, long and pale fingers flipping pages at a speed inconceivable to others as his eyes rapidly devoured the miniscule script flowing across the pages. Even though he had read The Divine Comedy on multiple occasions previously, he had waited a rather long time to have access to such an old and early copy of the work by Dante Alighieri.
He was completely immersed in the words, so enraptured that he didn't realise he was about to walk directly into the path of someone else. Someone who in that moment was inconsequential to him, a barrier between him and the pages his eyes could barely leave for a second. As such, it was a complete shock to his system when his body contacted another, the pair stumbling to upright themselves as they tumbled to the ground.
His book flew out of his hand and skid across the floor, coming to rest next to a pair of purple heeled boots. Allowing his gaze to rise, he noticed the black and white chequered trousers, tight but not overly so. A plain white t-shirt that showcased nothing, yet also hid nothing was covered with an oversized purple cardigan. It was an eclectic mix of fabrics and colours, something that he expected to only ever see on Penelope Garcia.
Realising he had no other options, Spencer lifted his head and allowed his eyes to meet the vivid green eyes of the woman before him, they were almost completely obscured by the thick red curls of her hair. They peered at him with curiosity and a glint of humour from behind a pair of rounded glasses, as she extended her hand that held his book within her clutches. Purple nail polish sparkled in the light of the coffee shop as he gently tugged the book from her hand, neither had spoken yet, but suddenly the noise of surrounding customers filtered its way into the bubble they had created between themselves.
Shuffling in place, Spencer opened his mouth to speak, only to close it immediately as he struggled to grasp an appropriate opener for the situation they had found themselves in. She smiled brightly, her eyes softening as she acknowledged his struggle.
"I'm really sorry about that, I hope you didn't lose your page," Spencer didn't know what shocked him more, the softness of her voice and the delicate Irish lilt that accompanied her words, or the words themselves. They were same words that had been scrawled across his hip for as long as he could remember. The flowing script had provided him with comfort at many points in his life, knowing that somewhere out there was a person perfect for him. In his younger years he had struggled with the concept of soulmates, believing it impossible for someone or something to just know who people were made for. Ever since Tobias Hankel however, he had taken comfort in knowing that someone would stand by him even after his battle with addiction, and she was stood before him.
"'With the colour that paints the morning and evening clouds that face the sun I saw then the whole heaven suffused'. Paradiso, Canto XXVII, lines 28 to 30." She froze in place, and Spencer sucked in a deep breath, hoping that those very words were tattooed somewhere upon her alabaster skin. It was as if they were frozen in time, neither moving and both barely breathing as the world continued around them. They were frozen in that moment, emotions flying, and all Spencer could do was hope that he had finally met his person. The person who was made to be with him for the rest of their lives.
As if everything had finally registered, her brightly painted lips parted in a dazzling smile, a bubble of laughter escaping from within as she moved closer towards him. Swiftly tugging a trailing lavender sleeve past her elbow, Spencer saw the words he had prayed to see. His cramped handwriting, messy from the speed in which he wrote when he was filled with thoughts and ideas he needed to release, curved around her forearm forming a bracelet of his words. He could feel the grin tugging at his lips, unable to suppress his excitement as he enveloped the woman before him in a hug. He could feel her arms wrap around his waist, tightly squeezing as if to reassure herself that he was real, and he found himself doing the same.
Neither noticed the book that had once again fallen to the floor in their excitement, they had finally found their soulmate, their other half in life. This was the start of his new life, a future where he wouldn't have to face the world alone anymore. Spencer was sure this was what paradise felt like.
Additional Prompts:
August Auction:
Day 29: Auction 4 – Fandoms: Criminal Minds
Writing Club – September:
Time Machine – [9] Task: Write a story inspired by or referencing a poem (Bonus)
Lizzy's Loft – [15] AU: Soulmate
Scamander's Case: Boggart – [6] Action: Laughing
Film Festival: Practical Magic – [11] Object: Book
Lyric Alley: Colourful by Jukebox the Ghost – [1] Hey, yeah, we're just getting started.
TV Spree - The Good Place - [2] Soulmate!AU
The Forecast Says... – [14th] Sunny with Clouds: Worried