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Entry tags:
At Cross-Purposes
Title: At Cross-Purposes
Fandom: End Roll
Character(s): Russell, Tabasa
Pairing(s): None
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 545
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Russell and Tabasa fill out a crossword, which shouldn’t bother Russell at all.
Notes: By request! I'd like to thank USA Today for having their crosswords on their website and also having a perfect one to upset Russell with.
“‘Unhip sorts’, five letters,” Tabasa reads out loud.
Russell squints in deep thought, sitting across from Tabasa at the table. He could technically read the clues himself, but they’re all upside down to him, so he’s just letting Tabasa take care of that part. “Nerdy?”
Tabasa shakes his head. “I’ve got an S at the end.”
“Then it’s nerds.” As Tabasa writes down the answer, Russell adds, “Who uses ‘hip’ now...? When did you get this crossword book?”
“Last month,” Tabasa replies. “Guess crosswords have their own kind of vocabulary. Uh… ‘one who believes our planet is a disc’.”
“Stupid,” Russell says.
Tabasa cracks a smile. “Gotta be eleven letters, but nice guess.”
Russell thinks for a moment, then pronounces carefully: “Stuuupiiiid.”
That gets a laugh and a shake of Tabasa’s head. “I’m thinking something like ‘flat earther’. That’s what you call those kinds of people, right?”
Or that. Russell gives a nod.
Tabasa writes down that answer, then moves on. “‘Soap opera plot device’, six letters, third letter is an F.”
That doesn’t take Russell long to come up with at all. “Affair,” he says, even more flatly than usual.
“It works.” Tabasa writes that down, then sets down the pencil. “You okay there?”
Russell nods. “...It’s just a crossword.”
It is. Just a crossword, with absolutely no bearing on real life. There’s no reason that even just hearing certain words should call to mind memories Russell would rather not drag up-
He’s jerked away from his thoughts by Tabasa’s hand ruffling his hair. “It’s okay if you’re not doing well, you know,” Tabasa says, looking sympathetic. “We can always come back to this later.”
“I want to finish it now,” Russell says. He really does. Even if there’s no reward for completing a crossword, he hates leaving games unfinished.
They get about a dozen clues done, then spend a good while staring at the remainder. Some are obviously never coming to them - Tabasa and Russell don’t know who the Kramdens are, nor what the cooler in their apartment should be called - while others feel like they’re on the tip of their tongue, and continue to feel that way for minutes at a time.
“How many three letter words for ‘slip up’ can there be?” Tabasa asks, tapping his pencil on the table. “Ugh, let’s just move on to a different one… ‘Ballpark beverage’, four letters, I thought it might be soda but the first letter’s definitely B.”
Oh. That’s another easy one. “It’s beer,” Russell says, his voice flattening out again.
“That works,” Tabasa says, and writes it down. “...Hey, Russell-”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Russell says, looking away from him.
“I wasn’t gonna ask,” Tabasa replies, slowly, carefully. “But I really think we should take a break. Sometimes it’s better to come at these things with a fresh head, you know? So why don’t we get lunch at Gardenia’s?”
Tabasa’s doing his best, Russell realizes. He’s being kind and considerate to someone who gets upset at the littlest things. It’s painful, but not in a way that’s Tabasa’s fault. The pain’s because of what Russell did - Tabasa isn’t to blame for any of it.
So the least Russell can do is keep spending time with him.
“...Lunch sounds good.”
Fandom: End Roll
Character(s): Russell, Tabasa
Pairing(s): None
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 545
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Russell and Tabasa fill out a crossword, which shouldn’t bother Russell at all.
Notes: By request! I'd like to thank USA Today for having their crosswords on their website and also having a perfect one to upset Russell with.
“‘Unhip sorts’, five letters,” Tabasa reads out loud.
Russell squints in deep thought, sitting across from Tabasa at the table. He could technically read the clues himself, but they’re all upside down to him, so he’s just letting Tabasa take care of that part. “Nerdy?”
Tabasa shakes his head. “I’ve got an S at the end.”
“Then it’s nerds.” As Tabasa writes down the answer, Russell adds, “Who uses ‘hip’ now...? When did you get this crossword book?”
“Last month,” Tabasa replies. “Guess crosswords have their own kind of vocabulary. Uh… ‘one who believes our planet is a disc’.”
“Stupid,” Russell says.
Tabasa cracks a smile. “Gotta be eleven letters, but nice guess.”
Russell thinks for a moment, then pronounces carefully: “Stuuupiiiid.”
That gets a laugh and a shake of Tabasa’s head. “I’m thinking something like ‘flat earther’. That’s what you call those kinds of people, right?”
Or that. Russell gives a nod.
Tabasa writes down that answer, then moves on. “‘Soap opera plot device’, six letters, third letter is an F.”
That doesn’t take Russell long to come up with at all. “Affair,” he says, even more flatly than usual.
“It works.” Tabasa writes that down, then sets down the pencil. “You okay there?”
Russell nods. “...It’s just a crossword.”
It is. Just a crossword, with absolutely no bearing on real life. There’s no reason that even just hearing certain words should call to mind memories Russell would rather not drag up-
He’s jerked away from his thoughts by Tabasa’s hand ruffling his hair. “It’s okay if you’re not doing well, you know,” Tabasa says, looking sympathetic. “We can always come back to this later.”
“I want to finish it now,” Russell says. He really does. Even if there’s no reward for completing a crossword, he hates leaving games unfinished.
They get about a dozen clues done, then spend a good while staring at the remainder. Some are obviously never coming to them - Tabasa and Russell don’t know who the Kramdens are, nor what the cooler in their apartment should be called - while others feel like they’re on the tip of their tongue, and continue to feel that way for minutes at a time.
“How many three letter words for ‘slip up’ can there be?” Tabasa asks, tapping his pencil on the table. “Ugh, let’s just move on to a different one… ‘Ballpark beverage’, four letters, I thought it might be soda but the first letter’s definitely B.”
Oh. That’s another easy one. “It’s beer,” Russell says, his voice flattening out again.
“That works,” Tabasa says, and writes it down. “...Hey, Russell-”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Russell says, looking away from him.
“I wasn’t gonna ask,” Tabasa replies, slowly, carefully. “But I really think we should take a break. Sometimes it’s better to come at these things with a fresh head, you know? So why don’t we get lunch at Gardenia’s?”
Tabasa’s doing his best, Russell realizes. He’s being kind and considerate to someone who gets upset at the littlest things. It’s painful, but not in a way that’s Tabasa’s fault. The pain’s because of what Russell did - Tabasa isn’t to blame for any of it.
So the least Russell can do is keep spending time with him.
“...Lunch sounds good.”