Tickled Pink

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters associated with the TMNT series or brand. While this story does include them, I do not own them. This story also includes many acts of violence, a few ✨spicy✨ scenes, mild language, and even some death. This story is meant to be a slow burn as well, so for those of you who are too impatient for stories like this you do not have to read it. Without further ado, here is the premise.

I don't get why everyone assumes that people who wear pink are weak. Just because someone wears the favorite colour of many little girls, does not mean they're weak.

In fact, that colour might just show you their strength of misleading people. Making others believe that they are fragile when they are just the opposite. Either way, it sucks for both the people who look and the person being looked at.

"Can I help you?" The girl asked, taking out one of her earbuds to hear better.

He paused, surprised that she knew he was behind her. Was he walking too heavy? Was his presence too large? Maybe it was both. Either way, it made him realize how much training he had been skipping on recently. He sighed, staying still as he answered her.

"Not really. I just wanted to talk."

"About?"

". . . Anything."

"Why?"

'Because you've been on my mind for days. Because I don't understand how you work, but I want to. Because I want to know who you are. I want to know about your life in this city.'

". . . Because you're interesting."

And with that, it was quiet again. Neither one spoke or was bothered by the chill of the air or the sudden gust of wind. Nothing moved, except for the cars and the people below them. And then the girl gave what sounded like a pitiful attempt at a chuckle, giving up halfway to sigh. She broke the silence.

"That's what they all say."