sim·ple
adjective
easily understood or done; presenting no difficulty
Text message from Spencer, Friday night.
Spencer: I made it home, have a good weekend!
Max doesn't respond until the next morning, as Eloise is spooning eggs and bacon on to everyone's plates.
Max: Good! You too!
After a full day of exploring the nearby woods, and even swimming in a creek, Max was too exhausted to worry about anything.
She made it a point to match Eloise's bubbliness so as to make Michelle feel special for her birthday, and hoping it would make up for her mood the night before.
No complaining. No angst. She told herself.
That evening she received another message from Spencer:
Spencer: so there is a new Pho place down the street I'm thinking of trying Sunday night. Would you be interested?
Max thought a minute, tapping her nails on the side of her phone. Her chest felt warm at the thought of him. She knew she couldn't... or shouldn't keep this up, but maybe I can just a little longer, She thought.
Max: I love Pho. I'll be back around 7 on Sunday
Spencer: 🍜😬
Sunday afternoon came and she received another text.
Spencer: I just got called in on a case, I'm leaving out of state for a few days, so I will have to cancel on tonight. It's looking like it will be pretty involved, so you might not hear from me much.
Maybe that's for the best. She thinks.
Tuesday night
Spencer sends a picture of himself with the text...
Spencer: sign of life
Max: are you in the tub ? 😂
Spencer: maybe. Send me one.
Max: Max sends a picture of herself in a white button up. She was quite proud of the bit of cleavage that was poking out, as well as the way the lighting made her eyes shine.
Spencer: 😍
Max: how's things going over there?
Spencer: I think this is the first time I've sat down since I got here.
Max: yikes
Spencer: yeah... I have to be back at the station in 20, so I'll talk to you later. Just wanted to see your face.
Max: be safe
Thursday night
Spencer sends a picture of his leather messenger back in the above bin of a jet.
Max: yay!
Spencer: we will be back at 7 and the team wanted to get drinks after, you busy?
Max thought she would rather die than sit at a bar with a bunch of FBI profilers.
Max: I actually have to be at a meeting super early in the morning, so I shouldn't... we could try the Pho place tomorrow night though?
Spencer: I'm going to see my mom after work on Friday... our schedules suck. ️
Max: breakfast downstairs, Saturday morning...?
Spencer: It's a date.
Saturday morning
Max walks by the bar, scanning the cafe until she sees him there in the corner at a table, a book in his lap, but phone in hand, most likely reading Max's "walking down" text message she just sent.
He is wearing light colored pants, a purple sweater over a white button up, and glasses.
His hair is more tame today than ever.
He looks up as she approaches him, a smile on his face.
He stands and closes the space between them, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.
"Hi" he says, finally. She responds by sinking deeper into his chest.
"They just added new things to their brunch menu" Spencer says, breaking away and motioning towards the bar.
They each order, Spencer, a black coffee with extra sugar, and a breakfast bagel.
Max gets a plain iced latte with avocado toast.
They sit down at a couch in the corner that just became available, and Spencer slides an arm across the top of the couch which allows his finger to brush against her shoulder.
"Oh, Garcia told me to tell you 'hey." Spencer says
"Garcia... from work?" Max asks suspiciously.
"Yeah," he laughs slouching in the couch and raising a foot to rest on the edge of the coffee table in front of them —his long legs making an 'L' shape— "she... well- they ask about you literally every second since meeting you at the gala."
Max swallows, "why?"
This makes him shift a little in his seat.
"Oh, I guess they're just excited that... I have a friend."
Max relaxes a little and changes her tone. She turns a little to her right to face him, raising an elbow to lean on, touching his out stretched arm.
"What do you tell them?" She asks, smirking.
He blushes and looks down, stammering before saying, "w-what would you feel comfortable with me telling them?"
Doctor Reid is good at deflection too, she thinks.
Max laughs and leans back again, attempting to put her feet on the coffee table, but finding her toes barely touch.
She let them fall back down to the floor before looking back at him to say, "if you didn't have to worry about freaking me out, what would you tell them."
He looks at her knowingly, and she can hear this finger behind her ear scratching at the fabric of the couch, as if he was willing all the unspoken things between them uncovered.
He swallows visibility before rambling out, "I guess I would tell them that we've been seeing each other for several weeks. That I like you a lot. That when I'm not with you, I want to be... and when I am, I feel normal... like even though I know it's not, and never will be, I can at least feel like life is... simple..." he blushes as he finishes.
Max's eyes return to her feet, unsure how she should respond.
She'd been practicing ways to break this off, or friend zone him, or something.
But the fact of the matter was, she simply did not want to.
She finally settles on "yeah, you should tell them that."
I might regret this later, but that's future me's problem.
✈️
"Simplicity boils down to two steps: Identify the essential, eliminate the rest." -Leo Babauta
