Aomine Daiki's Infatuation. - Aomine X Reader.

Tsubaka Hospital

Heading up the cracked pathway toward the porch, I fumble for my keys, the metal cool and familiar in my palm. The front door unlocks with a soft click, and I step inside, greeted by the faint scent of lavender lingering in the hallway. My footsteps are muffled by the plush, brown carpet as I climb the staircase, each step creaking quietly beneath my weight.

At the landing, darkness envelops me – the ceiling light is off, and only a sliver of moonlight sneaks through the window. I pause, peering over the white bannister that separates me from my grandmother's bedroom. Through the gap, I catch a glimpse of her peaceful form, cocooned in white cotton sheets, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Relief softens my features; I smile to myself, gently closing her door to keep the quiet intact.

Dragging my tired feet to my own room, I collapse onto the edge of my bed. The mattress sinks beneath me, cradling my weary body. I inhale deeply – the room is filled with the earthy musk of last night's rain, mingling with the sweet, powdery trace of my grandmother's floral perfume drifting in from the hallway. For a moment, I let myself drift, thoughts swirling between memory and fantasy.

I shake my head, pulling myself out of my wandering thoughts. With a casual flick, I toss the Tōō jersey onto the back of the chair beneath my desk. Why didn't he just take it back? What's the point in asking for a replacement when this one's perfectly fine? No tears, no stains, just the lingering trace of his cologne woven into the fabric.

I let the thought drift away, peeling off my clothes and stepping into a brisk shower. The hot water beats against my skin, melting the tension from my shoulders and carrying the day's weight down the drain. Afterwards, I slip into bed, burrowing beneath the duvet until I'm wrapped in its warmth. With a soft pull on the cord, my bedside lamp turns off, plunging the room – and the whole house – into comforting darkness.

⌛

Golden sunlight passes through the narrow gaps in the curtains, flooding the room with an intense, insistent brightness that paints golden streaks across the walls. The heat of it seeps into the air, warming my face even as I bury it deeper into my pillow. My eyelids clamp shut, unwilling to surrender to the morning, but the light is relentless. "Ugh," I groan, voice muffled, and finally roll onto my back, squinting up at the ceiling.

A heavy, unnatural quiet hangs in the air. There's no clatter of dishes, no soft shuffle of slippers on tile, no familiar hum of the radio drifting from the kitchen. The silence presses in, thick and expectant. I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress, toes curling against the cool floor, and pause, listening for any sign of life... Nothing.

With careful steps, I tiptoe onto the landing, the flooring creaking softly beneath my weight. My grandmother's door remains closed, the white paint untouched by the morning light, not a single sound leaking from the other side. It's strange – she's always the first one up, bustling about before the sun has fully risen. Now, the entire house feels suspended, waiting.

Downstairs, the kitchen is just as still. I move quietly, almost cautiously, as if afraid to disturb whatever silence has settled over the place. I fix a simple breakfast – toast and tea – eating in an unfamiliar stillness, with the ticking of the clock my only companion.

When I'm finished, I slip on my shoes and gather my things, moving with intentional caution not to wake my still-sleeping grandmother upstairs. At the front door, I hesitate before glancing back at the empty stairs. With a gentle twist, I align the lock and pull the door shut, the soft click echoing in the quiet, as if sealing the silence inside with me as I step out into the world.

As I turn to leave, a shadow falls across the path. I look up – far up – into the aloof face of Aomine, his tall frame blocking the morning sun. 

A sharp gasp escapes me. I stumbled back as Aomine's shadow loomed above, his cool blue eyes fixed on me with that unreadable stare. He barely reacts, just quirks an eyebrow. "Jumpier than usual," he mutters, almost amused, as we both begin the lengthy journey to Tōō.