mentaIIyabsent

spencer turns at the sound of your voice, "hi sweetheart," he hums, looking up at you just as you dip to kiss him quickly before pushing the bag of food onto his lap

"hey," you smile softly at your boyfriend before turning to his colleagues, "hey guys, how are we all?" you ask, getting a mixed bunch of replies back

"how's painting?" derek laughs, looking at your appearance and the state of your clothes

you slide onto spencer's desk, pulling your legs up to sit cross legged, "standing six feet up a ladder trying to hold a tray of paint and a brush is hard, i've nearly fallen off twice," you huff,

spencer hands you the sandwich he knows is yours and then seemingly looks at you properly for the first time since you've been there, "hey," he says, almost breathlessly

"hello?" you question, head tilting slightly, "you've already said hi," you say, looking at emily and jj who just snicker and shrug their shoulders but spencer doesn't reply, "oh before i forget!"

your boyfriend watches you carefully as you produce a piece of paper from the tiny pocket on the front of your dungarees, flapping it around to unfold it, your other hand busy clutching your food

"the living room is next, i need to know how much paint to buy," you explain, handing the paper to him, "the cans are one litre or five litres, i can't figure it out"

truth be told you hadn't bothered to try and work it out, knowing spencer would be able to reel off the answer like it's nothing, naturally, he knew the exact measurements of every wall in his house

the boy stares up at you blankly, big brown eyes soft and sparkly. your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your eyebrows raising slightly, "spence?" you nudge him with your knee

he jumps ever so slightly, his head shaking a bit, "hmm?" he asks before only just registering you've handed him something, his eyes scan over it, "oh!" he blushes, turning his chair to face his desk

"what colour are you doing the living room?" jj asks while she stabs at her salad like it's offending her. you'd consulted the girls with all of the decorating developments.

"a light brown i think, we have so much to hang on the walls," you pause to swallow, "so something neutral," you finish with a slight nod

a door opening to your side grabs your attention, aaron coming out of his office with his lunch. he comes down into the bullpen, sitting on the edge of emily's desk, "the paint fighting back?" he asks you, slight smile creeping over his face

you roll your eyes at him, playfully, while the other laugh at your expense, "very funny but i don't see any of you offering to help"

penelope scoffs, "actually, i did" and she was right, however her idea of getting wine drunk and decorating had been quickly shut down by spencer, the only input he's actually offered up in the whole process

giggling, you turn back to your boyfriend who's been far too quiet, "boy wonder?" you say gently, pushing your fingers through his hair, "got an answer for me?"

usually he would have an answer within seconds, his minutes of silence making you frown, he turns to you with the same frown painted across his face, "i don't know," he says

people around you gasp, loudly too, "what do you mean, you don't know?" emily almost chokes on her lunch, sitting forward to gawp at the boy

"i do not know how much paint we need" he confirms

derek scrambles, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "say it again, i need record of this moment" he pleads while garcia smacks him

"well there's a first," david says, wandering over after hearing spencer say i don't know for possibly the first time, ever

your boy stares at the paper in his hand and then up at you, confused, "i have to go and work it out, excuse me" he says, rushed, as he stands and takes off towards circle table room

after a moment of shocked silence you turn to the team who are all staring directly at you, "i'll go check on him, i wonder what's wrong?" you say to no one in particular as you hop off of the desk

"i think i know," jj sing songs and the others hum in agreement as you hop up the stairs and along the walkway into the room.

when you get into the room spencer is stood in front of the biggest whiteboard you've possibly ever seen, marker in hand though the board is still empty of his handwriting

"spence? angel?" you say quietly, staring at his back as he starts to write the measurements of the walls in his living room, "everything alright?"

he hums, not turning to look at you as he continues to work through the problem, "yeah, fine, just can't think properly when you're around," he admits, "not when you look like that," he turns slightly to look at you

"oh, do you want me to leave?" you're sad, its obvious in your voice. nervously you start fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt

your boyfriend gasps, "no, no, honey that's not what i meant!" he says, holding his arm out. you slide into the space, head resting on his shoulder, "you're so beautiful and i love you so much, so so much, my brain just switches off when you’re around"

"really?" you giggle, looking up at him. he hums and nods his head, a light blush rushes up his neck before taking over his cheeks, "i love you too,"

he's taller than you, forcing you onto your tip toes to kiss him, not caring when someone, emily, whoops from the bullpen. gentle hands squeeze at your waist, while you hold his face with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder

"three litres," spencer mumbles against your mouth, you pull away with a sight hum, forgetting what you'd asked of him, "you need three but it's cheaper to just buy five and have left over, now come back" he huffs, his arm wrapping tighter around you to pull you back in for another kiss

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

The sunlight streamed through the blinds, causing her to squint. She heard Matt's gentle breaths as he slept beside her, his body facing downward on the bed while his head turned towards her, granting her a view of his flawless face, even in slumber. He breathed quietly, not even a snore.

Last night felt like a dream. He took her to a rooftop restaurant with a stunning view of the city lights, where he confessed his love and decided to end their arrangement. She kissed him and cried, agreeing it was a stupid set up intended to only break their hearts. That was all Matt needed to hear.

Eventually, they ended up having sex in every corner of his place. He was grateful for his and his brothers' decision in giving each other the chance to move out and have their own place at times like these because he could not be seen fucking her in the kitchen counter by Nick where he eats his cereal every morning. And that is something Matt preferred not to think or worry about ever while he's buried inside of her. It also gave Matt a chance to be his own self after living with them for half of his life.

Familiarity with his apartment comes naturally to her, almost surpassing her knowledge of her own place. A forgotten scarf of hers, delicately hanging behind his front door, stands as a tangible reminder—a subtle representation of her presence in his life. Just like the scarf, she lingers, an ever-present figure, intricately woven into the fabric of his existence.

After a long day at work, she made her way to the coffee shop located on 11 Bow St, Somerville. He had texted her earlier that day that they needed to talk, this however set off an unsettling feeling inside of her. Walking down the familiar street, on the way to the apartment complex where Matt resided with his brothers—Chris down the hall and Nick on the first floor—she couldn't shake off an eerie feeling creeping upon her. Was Matt regretting in making her his girlfriend already? Why not just tell her over text? Was something wrong? With each step, she prepared herself for their conversation. More thoughts flooded her mind, yet she had no inkling of the surprising news Matt was about to reveal-something she hadn't even considered ever in her life.

When she stepped foot in his apartment, she secretly hoped it was a dinner surprise, him cooking her favorite meal, maybe an intimate bath he prepared for them while she was out; easing her worries from his text message. However, she stumbled upon Matt seated on the couch, his sobs echoing through the room. He sat with his hands on his head. His eyes, red and swollen. Coat and hat tossed aside carelessly. Tousled hair evidence of repeated running of fingers through the strands. As she took in the scene, he glances at her, blue eyes filled with tears.

"Oh my god, Matt. What happened? What's wrong?" she gasped, sinking to her knees before him and holding his trembling hands. He hugged her, his tear-streaked face buried in her shoulder, wetting her black turtleneck.

He couldn't manage a response, only releasing more sobs.

"What's going on, Matt? You're scaring me," she asked again, her voice soft with concern, her eyes reflecting the sorrow etched on his face.

In all the years she'd known him, she'd never witnessed Matt this distressed, not even close to this level of despair.

Matt struggled to speak through his tears. "I'm sorry, baby. I really am sorry."

Concern turned to deep worry. "Okay, now you're really scaring me. What happened? Why are you saying sorry to me? Did you and Chris have a fight? Or Nick—" she attempted to guess, while still trying to comfort him.

He interrupted, locking his gaze with hers. "It's Grace."

Her mind raced, a million more thoughts are now going through her head. Grace who?

"Who's—" she started, her voice trembling.

"It's the..." He faltered again, tears streaming down his face. "It's the girl I met at the bar in Canada."

With a nod, she silently urged Matt to continue. His tone conveyed an overwhelming sense of despair, as if his entire world had collapsed in an instant and shattered right before his eyes.

"She called me this morning. I don't know how she got my number, maybe from my friend way back in college, I don't know," he explained, his voice trembling, unable to meet her eyes.

It finally clicked in her mind—the vague mention from her friend last month about the familiar girl she saw Matt with. This woman, she was their former schoolmate at UMass. Until this moment, Grace had been a complete stranger to her, but she knew Grace was connected with some of her own friends, a mutual acquaintance.

Someone she had never expected would come between them, someone who hadn't crossed her mind—an unexpected threat she hadn't even considered. It was unfathomable, someone seemingly unassuming becoming a disruptive force in their shared life and the love they held for each other.

She didn't even know the woman.

"Okay, Matt, just breathe," she pleaded, trying to calm him down.

He rose abruptly, taking a couple of steps before turning back to face her, she mirrored his movement, standing and locking eyes with him, bracing herself for his next words.

"She's pregnant. And it's mine. And she's decided to keep it," he confessed through tears, his voice quivering, his gaze fixed on hers, as he searched her face for a reaction.

Her legs felt weak, but strangely, no tears came. It was that sensation of the world collapsing around her. The instinct to run away, to escape the situation and never lay eyes on him again clawed at her, she felt the need to stab her heart with a knife, that's what it felt like anyway, but she knew that not a single cry from her, not a single tear shed by Matt, nor any surge of anger from anyone could change the clear reality they found themselves in. Their life, as they knew it, had come to an end. For her, it wasn't just about their shared life crumbling; it was her own life, her plans, everything she had envisioned, all shattered. He was going to be a father, and despite the torment and agony within, she understood that no amount of despair or heartache could alter that irreversible truth.