The one where Aomine can't let go.
He can't breathe some days. When the memories are too much and all he can feel is the suffocating way each inhale constricts his throat. It makes him angry. Like there's an uncontrollable rage inside that won't leave. It burns in his throat and makes his eyes sting, a lot like the vodka he drinks now, but at least it's not the emptiness he falls into some days.
(The alcohol numbs the pain a little but it never really goes away.)
There's a malicious part of him that just wants end it all, just wants to have everything stop, but then his eyes would meet his and it takes all he has not to just break down as he stares into pale blue.
'He wouldn't want this.'
His vision blurs as he stares helplessly at the picture. Wishes there were more laughs, more kisses, more arguments, more conversations, more time. Anything would be better than this blank nothing that his life has become. The hollow chuckle he lets out echoes in the empty room. He knows that the others are worried, they walk on egg shells around him and all it does is make him want to break something.
He closes his eyes. The familiar ache in his heart and the choking feeling in his throat keeps him awake. When was the last time he actually fell asleep? His dreams are always cruel, pale hands and blue eyes that haunt him as he chases after a future that isn't there anymore.
At least he can see him. There are days when he feels bitter, those days are the worse. He's scared of the day he just burns everything and then he won't even remember his scent, or what shade his eyes were. He knows he can't keep living like this – if you could even call it living. He's a skeleton of the man he used to be but he can't muster the strength to bother eating. When was the last time he laughed? The last time he felt anything but pain and anger and bitterness that keeps building inside?
He throws an arm over his eyes, presses it down, spots appearing in the darkness of his closed eyes. He almost wishes he could just forget, but even the mere thought of that causes his chest to tighten and all he can do is breathe in and out until it passes. He's in pieces and he can't pick himself back up.
He digs his arm in deeper, to the point where it's starting to hurt, he just wants to lose consciousness so he doesn't have to go through this rigmarole that his life has become. The ache intensifies as if it can tell how disappointed he would be in him. He feels himself mumbling before his brain catches up. His voice is hoarse from lack of use and alcohol. Despite the quiet whisper the words seem to ring loudly in the room.
"I can't do this without you Tetsu."
A/N: A small drabble to get the creative juices flowing~ I wanted to explore grief and sadness as an emotion, I hope it was an enjoyable read ^_^;