Tea Time┆TMNT: BayLeo x FemReader

08

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"It's over now," came the low, soothing voice, deep and steady, calming her frantic heartbeat. His eyes, though she couldn't see them clearly, were on her the entire time.

Her heart raced even faster. That voice... She knew that voice. Her mind whirled, memories of the alleyway flashing before her—the man she'd spoken to, hidden in the shadows. It was him.

Her mind was still reeling as she and the vigilante locked eyes across the shadowy room, the tension so thick she could almost feel it pressing against her skin. She remained crouched by the counter, every muscle trembling from the adrenaline surging through her veins. The figure stayed in the dark, his presence dominating the space, but he didn't move toward her.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, silence stretching between them like a fragile thread. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she tried to process what had just happened—the violent confrontation, the lights going out, and then... him. The vigilante. The man from the alleyway.

Her legs felt like jelly as she struggled to stand, using the counter for support. She rose shakily, never taking her eyes off him, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. He shifted slightly, almost as if he wanted to help, but his hand fell back to his side, retreating into the shadows once more.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the gratitude behind it was undeniable. Her wide eyes stayed fixed on him, searching for something—reassurance, understanding, anything that could make sense of what had just happened.

He didn't say anything, just nodded once, a small, reassuring gesture. Even in the dark, it was enough to let her know she was safe.

Her gaze shifted to the bakery around her, the chaos and destruction starkly illuminated by the faint light filtering in from the street lights. Broken glass littered the floor, chairs lay toppled, and the cash register had been smashed open, though the lack of money inside likely frustrated the thugs more than anything. The cupcakes she had worked so hard to bake were strewn across the floor, some crushed beneath boots and others completely flattened.

A strangled laugh bubbled up from her chest. It was more out of shock than humor, but she couldn't help it. She chuckled quietly, her hands gripping the counter to steady herself as she stared at the mess.

Then, without warning, tears began to blur her vision. They fell, one after the other, sliding down her cheeks until she couldn't hold them back anymore. Her laughter faded into soft sobs as she buried her face in her hands. The reality of the situation hit her like a wave—this was it. The end of the bakery, the end of everything she had worked so hard to maintain. There was no coming back from this. Her dream was shattered.

He stood frozen, watching her quietly from the shadows. He had seen all kinds of chaos, experienced fear and pain more times than he could count, but comforting someone... that was foreign to him. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air as she cried, unsure of what to do, his mind racing for a solution.

Eventually, he took a tentative step forward, his large figure moving silently through the darkness. Still unsure, he hesitated for a beat before gently placing a hand on top of her head. He patted it up and down in a stiff, awkward motion, hoping it might somehow help.

Surprisingly, it did. Slowly, her sobs began to quiet as the repetitive, although clumsy, gesture grounded her. She wiped her eyes and nose with her sleeve, sniffling and blinking away the remaining tears. Her eyes felt raw and tired from crying, her entire body heavy with exhaustion.

Seeing that she had calmed down, he withdrew his hand, retreating back a few steps. Without saying anything, he walked past her into the kitchen. She watched him go, too emotionally drained to question what he was doing.