Tea Time┆TMNT: BayLeo x FemReader

ARC 1: 02

🖊️Edit: re-wrote the dialogue/banter between you and Leo ( 〃．．)

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But instead of the expected thud of the bag landing inside, there was a muffled thwack, followed by a low, pained grunt.

"Ow..."

Y/N froze in place, her breath catching as her eyes darted toward the darkest corner of the alley. The voice had come from there—the one spot she instinctively avoided.

Shadows seemed to twist and ripple unnaturally there, as though they might stretch out and grab her if she got too close. Her heart hammered in her chest, loud and erratic, drowning out the distant hum of the city.

For a moment, she couldn't move. Her feet felt glued to the ground, the steady pounding of her heartbeat echoing in her ears. But then guilt crept in, mingling awkwardly with her fear.

Someone was back there, and she'd just beaten them with her garbage bag.

Shoot, what if they're hurt?

"I—I'm so sorry!" she blurted out, her voice trembling as she tried to squint into the darkness. The shadows were too thick, though, cloaking the figure behind the dumpster like a curtain that just refused to move.

"Are you... are you okay?"

The silence that followed stretched unbearably, broken only by the faint whistle of wind that wound its way down the alley. Y/N felt her palms grow sweaty as she stared into the darkness. She could barely make out a shape—a man, crouched low—but no details, no movement. A nervous chill prickled the back of her neck.

〣 ( ºΔº ) 〣

Oh goodness, did I just kill someone...?

The silence that followed felt impossibly long, broken only by the soft rustle of wind down the narrow alley.

A nervous chill trickled down her spine.

"H...Hey, are you alive..?" she called again, her tone gentler now, full of concern. She took a hesitant step forward, the soles of her sneakers scraping against the gritty pavement. "I'm so sor—"

"Stop." The voice cut her off abruptly—sharp, but not unkind. It was deep, gravelly, and carried with it a calm authority that made her obey.

"Don't come any closer and leave."

Her heart fluttered nervously. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ease the anxiety bubbling inside her.

At least he's still alive...

She couldn't tell, but the feeling she got from him was unlike anything she'd encountered before. There was something... strange.

"Sir yes sir," she whispered softly, retreating slowly back to the bakery as her hands fidgeted with the hem of her apron. Her fingers traced over the worn fabric, an unconscious attempt to ground herself. The whole situation felt strange, almost surreal. And yet, oddly, the stranger's voice didn't fill her with the fear she expected.

In fact, she had the sense that he might be more afraid of her seeing him than she was of the weirdo behind the dumpster.

Y/N hesitated near the alley's entrance, her body half-turned toward the bakery's warm glow, but her feet refused to carry her back. She shifted her weight nervously, chewing the inside of her cheek.

The apology she'd tossed out earlier felt hollow. The guilt nagged at her like a persistent mosquito.

Who hits someone in the head with a trash bag and just leaves?