When you come to, you're in a large bed. You push yourself up to groggily look around, wincing when you feel how tired your arms are. You realize you don't recognize the room.
Almost immediately, there is a soft knock on the door and a maid pops her head in. "Michi-sama," she bows. "We've informed Keigo-sama you are awake. I brought some water and medicine."
You nod, a little overwhelmed, and she enters with a large glass of water and some anti-inflammatory medicine. You notice she also has a new ice pack.
"For your ankle," she gestures, and you glance down to see someone has wrapped your ankle in a splint.
"Thank you," you respond and your voice sounds a little dry. You grab the medicine tabs and gulp them down with the water. "Where, um, where can I find Keigo?"
"He's instructed us to let him know when you wake up," she responds softly. "He said he will come to you."
"No," you shake your head. "Take me to him." You throw off the covers and swing your legs over. You place some weight tentatively on your foot. It's a little sore, but manageable. "I want to talk to him now." You get up and head towards the door.
"Wait, your ankle!" you hear the maid protest as she moves to follow you.
You manage to swing open the door and pick a random direction in the hallway before you almost run right into Atobe. He takes a step back in surprise and catches you before you tumble.
"What the hell, Lita. I told them I'd come to you," he runs a hand through his hair.
You stabilize yourself on his arm, taking the weight off your ankle. "Sorry," you mutter, looking at the ground. "I was worried you wouldn't come."
Atobe tsks but does let you lean against him, shifting your arm to wrap around his shoulders as he wraps his arm around your waist. He slowly guides you back towards the room you came from and into a chair near the entrance.
"Thanks," you murmur, a little embarrassed, and keep your eyes on the ground.
Atobe sighs and takes a seat in a chair across from you. He rests his elbows on his knees. "That was a really stupid thing you did at Hyotei," he tells you quietly.
You glare at him. "It's your fault. You weren't answering my calls or texts. I needed to speak to you."
"Tch," Atobe turns away. "I don't need to hear your rejection, Lita," he responds cooly.
"Will you shut up?" you stand up angrily. Atobe stands up quickly as well, looking alarmed at your ankle, but you don't back down. "Keigo. Listen to me, you idiot. I came here to tell you that I liked you, okay? Will you get that through your stupid brain?"
There is a solid few seconds of silence when Atobe is just looking at you, shocked. The two of you are just staring at each other. "What?" Atobe asks, sounding a little breathless.
"I said, I like you," you repeat, this time a little quieter, eyes still focused on his.
Atobe approaches you slowly, like he's scared you might run away. "Are you sure?" he asks quietly.
"Am I-?" you huff. "Atobe Keigo, you are the world's most infuriating –"
He cuts you off with a kiss. You gasp a little in surprise but feel yourself melt against him and respond as his hands come around your waist. He leans back and you realize you both are a little breathless.
"What about Tezuka?" he asks quietly, eyes opening to watch you carefully.
You swallow, still caught up in his brilliantly blue eyes. "I-I told him I was choosing you," you murmur. "Is that … okay?" your eyes flicker up to his.
Atobe laughs but grabs your hand and kisses the back of your fingers. "Yeah," he responds breathlessly. "I think that's okay."
His eyes are shining brightly at you and you giggle. "Okay," you lean upwards and give him a chaste kiss.
EXTRA
You are at a Hyotei tennis gathering at Atobe's mansion. The courts are set up and multiple people are already playing scrimmage matches while the rest are relaxing under the large umbrellas on the side with drinks and snacks. You finish a conversation you're having with Jirou and his girlfriend and head back over to the drinks table. You grab a water and head over to the open shaded seats.
"Enjoying yourself?" you glance up and see Oshitari take the empty lounge chair next to you.
"I am," you tilt the glass towards him. "You?"
"Very much so," Oshitari grins. His eyes flicker up and you see Atobe approaching you both.
"Hey," you stand up and he drops a kiss onto the top of your head. "Did your match just end?"
"Mmhmm, I won," Atobe smirks and you roll your eyes. He turns to Oshitari. "Yuushi, a rematch?"
"Hmm," Oshitari grins. "How about, instead, we talk about Michi's last match?"
"Mine?" you furrow your eyebrows. "I haven't played any today yet."
"At Hyotei," Oshitari's grin widens. "Atobe, what was it that you said again that day?"
Atobe pauses and you turn towards him in confusion. "What?"
"Oh yes," Mukahi and Jirou take this opportunity to bounce over. Jirou is grinning widely. "You should have see him, Michi, passionately declaring his love for you on the court in front of everyone."
"What did he say again?" Mukahi pretends to think. "Oh, maybe something along the lines of 'you touch her again and you'll have to deal with me.'" He pretends to swoon.
"No, no," Jirou cackles. "It was more of a 'Lita is the most important person in the world to me, do not touch her.'"
"I thought it was more of a romantic 'I've been in love with this woman since the beginning of time,'" Oshitari joins in, smirking.
You try to hide your grin behind your fist as you watch Atobe twitch in annoyance. "Oh," you purse your lips to keep the giggles from escaping. "I haven't heard this speech yet." You turn around so you're facing Atobe. Your eyes sparkle in amusement. "And were there fireworks and roses involved?" you tease.
Instead of responding, Atobe dips his head down and catches you for a passionate kiss. The tennis members around you whistle and holler. You find yourself swept up in the kiss as your arms come up to his chest, fisting his tennis jersey. He leans back and chuckles at your mildly dazed expression.
"I told everyone that you were mine," he whispers. "And I'll bring the fireworks and roses tonight if I need to."
You blush and hide your face away in the crook of his neck as the surrounding tennis members whoop and cheer.