It's the Little Things

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The rain quietly pattered against the dark window panes as the light from the TV flashed in the glass's reflection. It was the end of a very long patrol, and Raph had made it back to your apartment quite late. As usual.

But as usual, you were up waiting for him with a hot dinner lovingly prepared.

Your daily lives were vastly different from each other. You ran a quiet bookstore in a reclusive area downtown, while Raph was one of the city's fierce vigilante heroes alongside his brothers. You were definitely an odd couple. But you had your moments.

Moments like these- Raph thought gratefully as he swallowed another bite of your steaming homemade stew, piled onto a thick slice of buttered sourdough bread. He closed his eyes as he savored the rich flavor, saturated in red wine and melty slow-cooked beef, and had to stifle himself from moaning around the food in his mouth. Somehow you always managed to make the most delicious food, the kind that could warm and comfort tired and aching bones after a long day.

Speaking of you.

Raphael glanced across the small wooden dinner table in their comfy little apartment, and found you sitting with your chin propped up on your crossed hands, with a glowing joyful expression on your face as you happily watched him enjoying the meal you'd made.

- and Raph immediately turned his head away, already beginning to feel his cheeks burning under his mask.

".....It's good." He said gruffly, not daring to chance another glance across the table as he practically felt your joy intensify from his praise.

" I'm glad~" It was a humble, yet cheerful response. Yet, somehow it left something fluttering in the large turtle's chest. His face scrunched up tensely as he tried to will away the building heat in his cheeks, and resorted to hiding his face in the bowl of the heavenly stew.

.....Raphael was quite certain you would someday be the death of him.

Later that night, after you two had had your fill of dinner and the pot and bowls were soaking in the sink, you curled up together on your old couch in front of the TV. Raph was watching the evening news, followed by a mobster period drama he found he secretly enjoyed. While you had made home with a blanket and a book curled up in the grumpy turtle's lap.

Raphael was lazily watching the TV and gratefully melting into the couch, letting his head tip back and stretch out the sore muscles in his neck. He barely noticed the pressure of you snuggled up warmly on his lap, already so accustomed to the feeling that at this point it would be more strange without it. When suddenly, he heard a clatter and flop from what sounded like your book sliding to the floor. He looked back up, expecting you to clamor up to retrieve it, but found you made no movement.

"........?..." Raph looked down to check on you, and was met with the adorable sight of your peaceful sleeping face. Your head resting comfortably against his chest as you breathed slowly and deeply. A hand curled up under your chin while he other was pressed flat against his chest.

Raphael immediately felt his whole face heat up deeply at the sight, having to turn his head away and place a hand over his mouth for a moment to insure he wouldn't explode from the sudden swell of feelings building up in his chest. He tried taking a deep breath to calm himself down. 'What am I, a teenage girl....?' He chastised himself as he calmed down enough to look back to you.

'......Are they really asleep?' He wondered. Raph studied your face, checking for signs of movement behind your eyes, but became caught up admiring the long strokes of your eyelashes against your cheek. It was just a small detail, but somehow, it sparked a warm feeling in him.

Raph found himself staring quietly at you as you dozed, and he became captured by your features as he gazed at you so closely. Your little nose, your soft complexion, playfully messy licks of your hair, the soft line of your jaw.... The corners of Raph's mouth began to pull up in a kind smile as he gazed at you. Quietly, he drew up his hand to comb some stray hairs into place, and trailed down to gently stroke across your cheek, until the pad of his thumb came to brush softly across your lips.

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