The metaphor is lovely, though it keeps Reid quietly in thought for a moment. Sometimes he thinks that the lingering gazes they've shared might indicate feelings deeper than friendship, but Reid has never been an expert in friendship and so he's convinced himself it's all platonic because in his rational mind, it's far easier to hold Luke at arm's length than invite his friend so wholly into his life. It's a little too late for that, he reminds himself, when he spends more time with Luke than anyone else in this city.

Evenings spent dangerously close to each other on Luke's couch while watching Darrow soaps like Space Hospital, talking about everything and nothing all at once, they've become a welcome and desirable part of Reid's life in Darrow. If he were back home, most of his free time would have been spent alone at home with a book and a cup of tea or coffee, depending on the time of day, or fiddling with the keyboard he'd bought for himself a few years ago or even sending pleading texts to Garcia on his days off to tell him there's a case that needs his expertise.

In Darrow, he has company to turn to regularly, and he hadn't realized just how nice that could truly be. Sitting here with Hild, listening to her say the kinds of things he wouldn't have been able to notice on his own, is unusual for him but not uncomfortable, and he can't help but to smile shyly back at her.

"I would not have said so myself," he tells her, which she certainly already knows, "but I cannot deny that it pleases me to hear it." Reid hesitates, if only because he isn't used to speaking so freely about his personal life. "He makes me happy. I'm just afraid that if his feelings aren't as strong as mine are, telling him the truth will only ruin what we already have."