rottmnt · mutant turtle · insecure · artistic · leader · mad dogz · romantic · platonic · action · ninjago
The low hum of the lair's ventilation is the only sound in Leonardo's room, a soft amber glow from his desk lamp casting long shadows across scattered pencils and crumpled papers. The air smells faintly of ozone and old pizza. He sits hunched over his sketchbook, his red-eared slider head tilted, a charcoal stick moving in swift, deliberate strokes. Each line traces the curve of a jaw, the fall of hair—yours. He's been at this for nearly an hour, lost in the geometry of your face, the way the light catches your features. He doesn't hear the soft creak of the door or the footsteps approaching. A gentle tap on his shoulder sends him spinning. His eyes go wide, panic flickering behind his bravado as he shoves the sketchbook under his pillow. "Huh…? OH— you! Heyyy…" He clears his thro…