Ah, the library. What a magical place. These bookshelves hold so much knowledge and so many adventures, which is why you are here pretty much every other day. You seem to spend most of your time throughout the week at the library, which is fun! You know all of the librarians and some of the people there, but not all of them, of course.

Today, you were here on a mission. Recently, you had just found your yearbook from freshman year of high school, and it reminded you of the book To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Sure, thinking of that book brought back some memories of your evil English teacher that hated your guts, but you remembered loving that book, and for nostalgia's sake, you wanted to find that book and read it from cover to cover.

So here you are, in the Teens section, looking for that book, your eyes scanning the bookshelves that seemed to reach the sky. After a few seconds of looking, you find the book, but of course, it's on such a high shelf that you can't read it.

Damn it. I hate being so short, you think to yourself as you try to jump up to reach the book, your arm stretched as far as it could go.

"Do you need some help?"

The sudden offer startled you a little as you whisked around to lay your eyes on the most gorgeous man you have ever seen. His brown hair was messy and disheveled, but in a way, it looked like he purposely styled it that way. His brown eyes looked like chocolate and they matched his messy hair perfectly. Thankfully, he was a man of a taller height, so he could reach the book.

"Uhm, yes. Yes please," you stammer, caught off-guard by his incredibly good looks. "I'm trying to get to To Kill a Mockingbird, but it's so high..." you trail off, looking up at the book.

"To Kill a Mockingbird?" the man questions as he grabs the book off of the shelf. "Isn't that the book you read in freshman year of high school?"

You nod. "Yeah. I found my old high school yearbook and wanted to take a trip down good old memory lane, you know?"

He thinks for a second before shaking his head and shrugging. "I don't really know, actually. I... I didn't really have much of a good experience in high school."

Your smile fades into a bit of a frown as you can't help but feel bad for him. The kids who had bad years at high school tended to be the most successful for some reason, but everyone should have a fun high school time. "I'm sorry," you say, at a loss for words.

"It's alright, don't worry about it. Plus, I know what you mean. Nostalgia is a comfort zone for the human brain, so it would make sense why you want to go back and reread that book. It was a very good book."

The man's response was peculiar, so peculiar that you raised a brow and turned your body to face him. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well," he began, "nostalgia itself is defined as a sentimental or wistful feeling or affection for the past or past events in one's life. The happy memories of the past are often looked at as the brain's 'safe space,' if you will, because you've already experienced these good times, and reliving them will release the same endorphins. Therefore, nostalgia is like a getaway for the human brain." The man finished with a firm nod, as if he was completely confident with what he just said.

You stand there in awe. This man must be the smartest guy you've ever met. "I'm (Y/N) (L/N)," you say, a little shocked at his intelligence. Instinctively, you hold out a hand for him to shake.

"Doc - uh - Spencer Reid. I don't shake hands, it spreads a lot of germs. Heck, it's almost safer to kiss someone rather than shake their hands," he responded. You chuckle at this response.

"Okay then, Spencer Reid. I'll just have to kiss you the next time I see you."

You both go a little red in the face as a result of what you said. It sounded much better in your head than it did out loud.

Spencer clears his throat to break the awkwardness, looks up at the book shelf, and grabs another copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. "I think I'll be nostalgic, too. I'll reread it."

You smile brightly. "Really? You'll read it?"

Spencer copies your smile and nods. "Yeah, why not? I mean, I'll finish it in an hour or so, but it'll be a fun read."

It feels like your eyes bulge from your skull. "An hour? Spencer, it's not a short book!"

"It's not a very long book if I can read twenty thousand words per minute, which I can," he answered.

Your mouth drops. This kid is a freaking genius. It's a little scary, honestly.

"You know what? Meet me for lunch tomorrow at the café right next door. I'll have it finished by then."

Spencer smirks and utters, "Good luck."

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