rpf | oblivious
Title: Oblivious
Rating: PG
Summary: Went. Sarah. Scrabble. Josh.
Author's Notes: Due to a wonderful afternoon spent at home this is written (by order of xshorty24x) to follow Clumsy by xshorty24x and Ambiguous by aboutbefore (in that order). Inspired by Wentworth's insight that "...actually Sarah and her husband have whipped my ass on a number of occasions I'm sad to report."
(If you don't approve of RPF just ignore me and keep reading your flist thanks.)
“Your turn.”
He leans back in his chair and stares across the table at the man sitting there. He’s losing, to her husband, and he’s not entirely sure why. Glancing at the doorway where she’s standing, coffee in hand, the answer comes to him.
She smiles and he feels his heart race just a little faster.
Josh spells out the word ‘prison’ and leans back, smiling smugly.
“That’s not fair,” Went smiles as he glances down at the letters before him.
“It’s perfectly fair,” Josh replies.
Sarah wanders over to investigate, pulling up a chair and sitting between them. Suddenly he can’t concentrate on the letters before him, can’t make a word out of them, because all he can concentrate on is the woman by his side. She’s smiling and talking to her husband and even though he doesn’t hear a word of it he can’t make a word out of his letters, his focus gone.
For a moment it hurts and he closes his eyes. He can’t let it get to him, his invitation to them to come over and play Scrabble was a peace offering - something he had done more for himself than either of them because as far as he knew they were oblivious.
“Went?”
It’s her voice and he suddenly realises it’s still his turn. Opening his eyes he looks at her, met by the concerned expression he’s seen so many times, the one he likes to think means something more.
“I give up,” he smiles but it’s fake and she knows it. “Josh wins. Anyone want another coffee?”
He stands up and walks to the kitchen, unable to be alone with them for another moment. He stands over the sink and listens to the kettle boil, drowning out the laughter from the other room. He knows he's lost more than a game of Scrabble and when he returns he finds them deep in another game.
He doesn’t belong there, but he takes his place at the side of the table and watches. It’s just how things are.
Rating: PG
Summary: Went. Sarah. Scrabble. Josh.
Author's Notes: Due to a wonderful afternoon spent at home this is written (by order of xshorty24x) to follow Clumsy by xshorty24x and Ambiguous by aboutbefore (in that order). Inspired by Wentworth's insight that "...actually Sarah and her husband have whipped my ass on a number of occasions I'm sad to report."
(If you don't approve of RPF just ignore me and keep reading your flist thanks.)
“Your turn.”
He leans back in his chair and stares across the table at the man sitting there. He’s losing, to her husband, and he’s not entirely sure why. Glancing at the doorway where she’s standing, coffee in hand, the answer comes to him.
She smiles and he feels his heart race just a little faster.
Josh spells out the word ‘prison’ and leans back, smiling smugly.
“That’s not fair,” Went smiles as he glances down at the letters before him.
“It’s perfectly fair,” Josh replies.
Sarah wanders over to investigate, pulling up a chair and sitting between them. Suddenly he can’t concentrate on the letters before him, can’t make a word out of them, because all he can concentrate on is the woman by his side. She’s smiling and talking to her husband and even though he doesn’t hear a word of it he can’t make a word out of his letters, his focus gone.
For a moment it hurts and he closes his eyes. He can’t let it get to him, his invitation to them to come over and play Scrabble was a peace offering - something he had done more for himself than either of them because as far as he knew they were oblivious.
“Went?”
It’s her voice and he suddenly realises it’s still his turn. Opening his eyes he looks at her, met by the concerned expression he’s seen so many times, the one he likes to think means something more.
“I give up,” he smiles but it’s fake and she knows it. “Josh wins. Anyone want another coffee?”
He stands up and walks to the kitchen, unable to be alone with them for another moment. He stands over the sink and listens to the kettle boil, drowning out the laughter from the other room. He knows he's lost more than a game of Scrabble and when he returns he finds them deep in another game.
He doesn’t belong there, but he takes his place at the side of the table and watches. It’s just how things are.