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You have attended Rossi’s New Year’s party every year since you started working at the BAU; this one will be your fifth.
The four past parties you attended left you with intrinsic knowledge of nooks and crannies in Rossi’s house mansion.
The New Year’s blues always hit you hard after the countdown, so usually you went up to the balcony of one of the upstairs rooms. Up there you can watch the fireworks alone with your thoughts, just the way you like it.
“Blue or purple?” Spencer asks, holding up two party hats as he snaps you out of your thoughts about your little tradition.
“I’ll take blue. Purple suits you, Spence,” you say as you take the blue hat from him, putting it on your head.
Spencer smiles and puts the purple hat on. “You look really—” Spencer manages to say before getting cut off by Penelope.
“1 minute to midnight! Grab your champagne and make sure your special someone's lips are in range, everybody!” Penelope starts giving people champagne refills as people wait in anticipation for the countdown.
“Ready for another year of catching serial killers?” you ask Spencer sarcastically as you lift your glass up in cheers before taking a sip.
“Only if I get to do it with you,” Spencer says, smiling.
The countdown was the same as every year, bittersweet. You found yourself watching all the couples having their New Year's kisses. You never admitted it to yourself, but you were jealous.
You decided to retreat to the balcony early. Rossi’s firework show wouldn't be starting for another 30 minutes, but you needed to get away from all the people and the loud music.
You breathed in the cold air, your exhale immediately turning to condensation. You find yourself shivering. “Why didn't I bring a jacket?” you whisper as you hug yourself, trying to fight the cold until you feel a jacket being draped over your shoulders.
“Here,” Spencer says.
“Thank you.” You whisper without looking at Spencer, and you pull the jacket closer. You were afraid that if you spoke louder, you would burst into tears. You didn’t even know why. Something about New Year’s just left you feeling empty.
“I always wondered where you disappeared to at these parties,” Spencer admits. After a short silence he clears his throat. “Good view,” Spencer adds awkwardly. You hum in agreement.
Then came the silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable one per se, but you always found yourself dreading drawn-out silences.
“Something about New Year’s just makes me so…” You start, unable to find the right word.
“Melancholic?” Spencer fills in.
“Exactly,” you sigh.
“I’m somewhat acquainted with the feeling myself,” Spencer admits. You look at him and notice the light from the fireworks lighting up his face as you meet his eyes. There's something majestic about the colors dancing around on him.
“At least the fireworks are pretty,” you say, your face turning back towards the sky.
“Very pretty,” Spencer agrees. Only he's not looking at the fireworks. He doesn't so much as glance at them in fear that if he takes his eyes off you, the moment will end.
But he finds his words to be true nonetheless; only you are the subject of them.