A/N: written for OTP Battle. Prompt by Infinite Skye ( i v i )- Aomine and Kuroko sending text messages to each other that are never sent, and left in the drafts
of unsent messages never received
He ends the call to Ogiwara with a sigh, not feeling much better than before. It's getting late, and he really should be home eating dinner or doing homework by now, but Kuroko remains seated at the park bench, not quite knowing what to do.
The sky is darkening slowly, and the colours around him are dulling to acquire a grey undertone, not unlike the way things usually do before a heavy rainfall. The light from the screen of his cell phone is glaring in contrast, and his eyes keep flickering to one particular name in his contacts.
He selects Aomine's name, and pulls up a text message box.
(It's your turn to help him.)
Kuroko stares at the screen, all the things he wants to say running through his mind, and types out the beginning of a sentence, then deletes it.
(Can we talk?)
(Do you feel like talking?)
(Can you please come to practice tomorrow? I want to talk to you.)
His thumb hovers over the button to send, and he wants to change the message to something else - anything, really, maybe a trivial subject like reminding him to study for their English quiz tomorrow - but it's all the same, either way.
He sits there reading his message over and over, but he can't figure out a way to change it so that it doesn't sound so - wrong. This continues until he feels the first raindrop on his cheek. Another few fall onto his cell phone screen, blurring the words up, and Kuroko wipes it away.
He should get going, Kuroko thinks, and glances one last time at the message.
He saves it into his drafts.
He takes one last look at the locker room around him. It makes him feel a bit hollow - the spaces are too vacant and the void is too quiet without the others here.
There's an air of finality when Kuroko shuts his emptied locker, his basketball shoes and practice clothes stuffed into the team-issued bag. He feels a little strange not having to change.
Kuroko closes the doors to the locker room with a click, and makes his way past the first, second, third gymnasium buildings, where he hears the scuffles of shoes and the bouncing of balls as the players began today's practice.
He ends up standing at the entrance to the silent fourth gym, and Kuroko pulls out his phone, and scrolls through the options to open up the drafts.
Maybe the outcome would have been different; maybe not.
He deletes the message.