stupid turtles and their stupid feels.
does anyone even read this anymore, lol. Anyway, this is TMNT fic because I looove the new cartoon. The first one was a request by my friend, Angela , who wanted Donny and Raph having a sibling moment. The second is some Donny/April hurt/comfort fic with overly dramatic feels and silliness. The idea is that Donatello asked April to meet him in a isolated place so he could confess his feelings, but chickened out when meeting time came, and the Foot clan captured her. Yeah they haven’t shown up in the show yet, but I can’t see the Krang torturing people for info - as that’s what happens to April here. What follows is the aftermath of her rescue. Hope you like it.
(1)
It was easy to tell when Raphael was worried, because he vented it during training. There was an extra hint of brutality to his movements, unable to solve his problems his own way so he had to lash out somehow. He'd never actually talk about his worries as he considered that a weakness. So when his pet Spike began getting ill, Michelangelo knew he'd be very sore very soon. April had promised to go and buy some pet medicine, and the lair was quiet.
After thoroughly pummeling Michelangelo for two straight hours, Raphael went to check on Spike. Donatello was sitting on the floor, silently holding Spike in one arm. This could have easily sent Raphael in a rage - it was a non-spoken rule that, besides Splinter, no one was allowed to touch Spike, lest they wanted an arm broken. But before a battle could begin, Raphael saw that Donatello was doing with his other arm - ever so gently using the tips of his 'fingers' to pet Spike's shell, back and forth. Raphael recognized the motion immediately.
When the turtles were younger and had gotten ill, Splinter would lay them down on their stomachs, and then run the tips pf his fingers over their shells. It seemed to send a soothing vibration down their body, offering them comfort throughout their pain.
Donatello noticed Raphael's shadow, and froze in place, remembering the rule that technically didn't exist. He slowly looked up, expecting for a fist to meet his face, but Raphael was wearing an expression rarely seen. As smart as Donatello was, he couldn't define it. Red mask sat across from purple mask. After a moment, Donatello resumed the shell strokes. They waited for April together.
(2)
For a night that had started out in complete disaster, the end had come with fairly good results. Though April had put on a brave face throughout the entire deal, actually being far away from the villains and in the safe company of the turtles allowed her to sigh heavily in relief. The ninjas slowed down, coming to a halt on a cold rooftop. Leonardo glanced back, and then nodded once. "We've lost them. It's over, for now."
"You doin' okay, April?" Raphael sheathed his weapons, all four brothers taking a cautious once over on the young girl. She was heavily bruised, and her left hand was trembling, though not of her own account.
Yet she smiled with tired muscles. "I think my hand's broken... but, seeing as I could have been decapitated, I think I'll be fine. You can put me down now, Donny." He hadn't said a word during the entire rescue, but the odd thing to her was that he had also refused to look her right in the eyes. He had held onto her tightly the second they found her, and hadn't put her down for a second, not even to join in battle. He gently began to set her back down on her feet, but he still hadn't let go of her. April waited a moment, and then cleared her throat. "... Donny? Donatello?"
Still nothing. He may have held her a little tighter, it was hard to tell. The other brothers uneasily glanced at each other, but then Donatello suddenly pushed April away, his eyes down. "Take her home." There was a quiet but hard tone to his voice that was deeply unsettling to the group.
"Like that?" Leonardo gestured to the various injuries April sported. "Her aunt is going to have a million questions! We need to bandage her up a little."
"I don't think we even have that many bandages." Michelangelo quipped, trying to count the bruises until April gave him a curt look.
"Just take her home!" Donatello didn't wait for any further disagreements, suddenly breaking off into a mad dash to get away. He heard them all cry out his name, and never stopped running, because if he stopped he would have to think, and the smartest turtle did not want to think now.
~*~
The tea was finished. Splinter decided to use his favorite cups for this batch, pouring quietly as he heard the pounding noises nearby. Donatello had returned much earlier than his brothers and had gone straight to the training room, mercilessly beating a punching bag with his bo staff. Splinter let him vent out his frustrations for the first half hour, but there was no sign or sound of Donatello stopping. Splinter picked up his small tray, carrying two cups of tea to the training room. He didn't bother to announce his presence as he slid the door open.
Donatello's teeth were grinding as he smacked the red punching bag over and over, breathing hard and grunting with every blow. Sweat had begun to build up, and creaks from his staff warned of future breakage if this pressure continued.
Splinter began to approach, taking his time with every step. "Yame." 'Stop'.
The boy did not. He almost appeared as if he hadn't heard his master, but the distance between them made that impossible.
"Donatello, that's enough."
Still no change. There were hints of rips on the punching bag.
"Donatello-"
"Leave me alone!" In a blur, Donatello whipped his body around, raising his staff down, and brought it down hard towards his master -
And in equally fast motions, Splinter threw the tea set upwards, grabbed the end of the staff, yanked Donatello forward, smacked him upside the head, pushed the boy onto his knees, let go of the staff, and then held out his arms to catch the tray. Not a single drop had been spilled. Donatello dropped his staff, and lowered his head in pitiful submission. "... I-I'm sorry, sensei. I... I didn't mean..."
"I know." Splinter sat down across from his son, and placed the tray on the floor between them. "How is she?"
Donatello wouldn't raise his head or his eyes. "... She's hurt. It... it was awful. She's got... all these bruises, and they... her hand was broken, they didn't even... sh-she's not even a fighter, and they didn't show her any mercy..." Something was catching in his throat, and he was in a losing fight against it. "They were going to... to kill her, if we hadn't made it..."
"It does us no good to dwell on the ifs. That's not that's all bothering you." Splinter took one cup, and took a small sip of it.
"... It's all my fault." Donatello held his head, almost wishing he could rip it off. "It's my fault she was there! I almost had her killed!" His hands curled up into fists, bashing onto the ground. "She was so scared! They beat her, and they hurt her, and... I promised to protect her, and I put her there!"
Splinter took another drink. "You all left before you could properly explain how she was captured in the first place. Explain."
Donatello's fists hurt. His arms hurt. His head hurt. Everything hurt and with every beat of his heart everything hurt worse until he wished he was dead. "... I wanted to talk to her alone." His voice was shallow, full of self loathing at his own cowardice and stupidity. "About me... about how I felt about her. So I picked out this secluded place that the others wouldn't know about, so... so they wouldn't make fun of me. I was supposed to meet her at a time I picked out, but... but... I couldn't stop thinking about what I would say, and how'd she react, and I kept chickening out... By the time I finally got there..."
He couldn't bring himself to finish. He'd been hours late after finally getting the courage to talk about his feelings towards her, and as way of apology for the time wasted, had even constructed a somewhat crudely made bouquet of coils and copper wire in the shape of flowers. When he had arrived, all that was left was her shoe and the signs of a struggle. Shredder's minions had seized her, and had tortured her for hours to find information on the turtles. She'd bravely defied every blow, even though it had spelled pain and death for her. Thankfully the turtles had managed to find out where she was held before she was gone for good, but Donatello felt he would never recover from what he felt he had caused.
"All because I couldn't tell her that I love her!" His fists began to smash down again, and Splinter quickly pushed the tea tray aside so it wouldn't get damaged. "I can fight ninjas and robots and mutants, but I couldn't look at her and say I want to be with her! And she almost died because of it! How can I..." he couldn't even finish the sentence. How could he even look at April ever again? How could he be worthy to hold the title of ninja? How could he even live to see the next morning, knowing that he'd nearly helped kill the greatest thing that ever happened to him?
Splinter's cup was empty by this point, so he put it down. "... I have trained the four of you to be the ultimate ninjas. But no matter how skilled you are, no matter how brave and strong you are, every warrior must keep their ability to feel. If they do not, they became men like The Shredder." He reached out, touching Donatello's chinand forcing him to look up. "The guilt you feel is not something I can brush away with a metaphor. But what happened here tonight was not your fault. We are at war with enemies whose cruelness is something we cannot understand. But they, in turn, cannot understand our compassion. That is why April will always be safe, and why you must be there for her."
Donatello's eyes darted momentarily, but then Splinter spoke again to grab his attention. "... And Donatello. You are allowed to cry." He pulled Donatello into his embrace, and nothing more was said between them. Briefly, Splinter recalled his days as a human man, and the precious time he had spent with his wife. In time, he would tell Donatello that for a ninja to share his life with a woman, she would always be in danger, and it would be up to her will and their love to continue forward. But that lesson could wait a little while longer.
~*~
April laid in bed, thinking of how exactly she was going to explain to her aunt how, mysteriously overnight, she resembled the loser in a high stakes wrestling match. She held up her broken hand, now wrapped up tightly. Thank goodness she was right handed. She took small comfort in this, and then heard a rattle at her window. Fear stole her voice as she immediately sat up in bed, but her entire body relaxed to see it was only a purple mask wearing giant turtle at her windowsill. She waved at him, giving him the signal that it was okay to come in. Was it her imagination, or were his eyes a little red?
Any other time, and Donatello would have had a high pitched squeal of delight to be alone with April in her room. Tonight he was solemn as he opened the window and slid in. His tongue clicked to his cheek, looking around as he tried to talk. "... Um... nice room."
"Thanks." She knew he wasn't here to make small talk, so she wasted no time. "Your brothers bandaged me up pretty good, so you didn't have to come check up on me. See?" She waved her injured hand, wincing a little for the effort. "Ow. No high-fives for a while."
She had hoped to crack a smile out of him, but the way he looked at her almost made it seem like he was the injured one. He took a deep breath, and stepped toward her bed. "April, I'm so, so, so, so sorry!"
"Oh, Donny, don't start." She pulled off her covers, ready to stop him.
"If I had been there on time, none of this would have happened!" It was difficult to keep his voice down, but he was making every effort to do so, leaving his flailing arms to make up for the volume he couldn't emit. "I shouldn't have even called you out like that!"
"Neither of us could have guessed the Foot would have been there." She began to get out of bed -
"April, don't you need to rest!" Donatello made a grab for her shoulders -
"I'm not dying, let me just-"
"But I've already done enough, you need to-"
FWUMP!
To be fair, he had succeeded in getting her to lay back down. Unfortunately, the strength between the two had also brought him down on top of her. He froze completely as his blushing face was only inches away from hers. Funny, he had dreamed of this several nights, but to actually have it was slightly horrifying. "... I am so, so, so, so, SO-"
"Knock it off." April cut into his apology, the night shadows hiding her reddening cheeks. "If this is what it takes to get you to listen to me..." She focused in on his eyes, ensuring that he wasn't going anywhere. "I knew what I was getting into when I joined up with you guys. I have always been willing to risk whatever it takes to help you, and to get my father back. I trust all of you, so when you asked me to see you, I did it, even though being alone in this city is dangerous. Because..." Her weary face smiled, and Donatello thought his heart would explode at the sheer beauty of it. "... I know you guys will always come to help me. So I don't regret a second of this."
"... It... it uh..." Forming coherent sentences in his position wasn't easy. "It won't happen again. I promise."
"You can't promise that."
"... I can try."
She rolled her eyes, but then shifted underneath him - Donatello thought she was going to push him off, but instead she used her good arm to wrap around his neck as best she could for a makeshift hug. "... Thanks, Donny. For everything."
She was impossibly warm to his cold skin. Why was she so forgiving after missing an execution by a hair's width of time? His intelligent brain didn't have the answer, but his understanding heart did. "... You're one of the bravest people I've ever known." It was one of the many reasons why he was crazy about her. But being crazy wouldn't do her any good. He willed his heart to beat into a normal pattern again, thinking about the future. If he really wanted to protect her, he'd need to put a cap over his feelings, or at least garner enough control over them to keep up with common sense. She deserved at least that much.
"That means a lot, coming from a ninja." She then nudged his forehead with her own. "Now... get back to the lair before my aunt wakes up. I'm not supposed to have boys in my room."
"Take it easy, April." As Splinter had predicted, all of his guilt hadn't magically washed away. But that constant pounding pain coursing throughout his body had lessened. He moved off of the mattress, and made his way to the door -
"Hey, wait." April was sitting up again, eyebrows up. "What was it that you wanted to talk to me about in the first place, anyway?"
Uh-oh. On the one hand, he kind of owed her that. On the other... Donatello gulped, his hands on the open window as he smiled nervously. "... Would you mind if we had a rain check on this particular discussion?"
"If you mean, 'we'll talk about it later', sure." April smirked. "Do us both a favor and ask Splinter to train you how to speak to girls." Were her aunt not asleep, she would have laughed at the flustered expression Donatello was making as he bolted out of the room. She decided to leave the window open, allowing the cool night air to settle in.
Donatello didn't return home right away. He stood on April's rooftop, and rubbed the back of his neck. The sun was slowly starting to come up, and he decided to watch it. He was still in pain over what had happened, still too cowardly to tell her how he felt, still head over heels for her, and still so full of mistakes he couldn't correct. Despite all that, he watched the rising sun with a gaped smile, wondering if April was watching it too. The night had started horribly, but ended fairy well.
... Until he realized he missed a perfect chance to kiss her.
"Aw, shell!"
(1)
It was easy to tell when Raphael was worried, because he vented it during training. There was an extra hint of brutality to his movements, unable to solve his problems his own way so he had to lash out somehow. He'd never actually talk about his worries as he considered that a weakness. So when his pet Spike began getting ill, Michelangelo knew he'd be very sore very soon. April had promised to go and buy some pet medicine, and the lair was quiet.
After thoroughly pummeling Michelangelo for two straight hours, Raphael went to check on Spike. Donatello was sitting on the floor, silently holding Spike in one arm. This could have easily sent Raphael in a rage - it was a non-spoken rule that, besides Splinter, no one was allowed to touch Spike, lest they wanted an arm broken. But before a battle could begin, Raphael saw that Donatello was doing with his other arm - ever so gently using the tips of his 'fingers' to pet Spike's shell, back and forth. Raphael recognized the motion immediately.
When the turtles were younger and had gotten ill, Splinter would lay them down on their stomachs, and then run the tips pf his fingers over their shells. It seemed to send a soothing vibration down their body, offering them comfort throughout their pain.
Donatello noticed Raphael's shadow, and froze in place, remembering the rule that technically didn't exist. He slowly looked up, expecting for a fist to meet his face, but Raphael was wearing an expression rarely seen. As smart as Donatello was, he couldn't define it. Red mask sat across from purple mask. After a moment, Donatello resumed the shell strokes. They waited for April together.
(2)
For a night that had started out in complete disaster, the end had come with fairly good results. Though April had put on a brave face throughout the entire deal, actually being far away from the villains and in the safe company of the turtles allowed her to sigh heavily in relief. The ninjas slowed down, coming to a halt on a cold rooftop. Leonardo glanced back, and then nodded once. "We've lost them. It's over, for now."
"You doin' okay, April?" Raphael sheathed his weapons, all four brothers taking a cautious once over on the young girl. She was heavily bruised, and her left hand was trembling, though not of her own account.
Yet she smiled with tired muscles. "I think my hand's broken... but, seeing as I could have been decapitated, I think I'll be fine. You can put me down now, Donny." He hadn't said a word during the entire rescue, but the odd thing to her was that he had also refused to look her right in the eyes. He had held onto her tightly the second they found her, and hadn't put her down for a second, not even to join in battle. He gently began to set her back down on her feet, but he still hadn't let go of her. April waited a moment, and then cleared her throat. "... Donny? Donatello?"
Still nothing. He may have held her a little tighter, it was hard to tell. The other brothers uneasily glanced at each other, but then Donatello suddenly pushed April away, his eyes down. "Take her home." There was a quiet but hard tone to his voice that was deeply unsettling to the group.
"Like that?" Leonardo gestured to the various injuries April sported. "Her aunt is going to have a million questions! We need to bandage her up a little."
"I don't think we even have that many bandages." Michelangelo quipped, trying to count the bruises until April gave him a curt look.
"Just take her home!" Donatello didn't wait for any further disagreements, suddenly breaking off into a mad dash to get away. He heard them all cry out his name, and never stopped running, because if he stopped he would have to think, and the smartest turtle did not want to think now.
~*~
The tea was finished. Splinter decided to use his favorite cups for this batch, pouring quietly as he heard the pounding noises nearby. Donatello had returned much earlier than his brothers and had gone straight to the training room, mercilessly beating a punching bag with his bo staff. Splinter let him vent out his frustrations for the first half hour, but there was no sign or sound of Donatello stopping. Splinter picked up his small tray, carrying two cups of tea to the training room. He didn't bother to announce his presence as he slid the door open.
Donatello's teeth were grinding as he smacked the red punching bag over and over, breathing hard and grunting with every blow. Sweat had begun to build up, and creaks from his staff warned of future breakage if this pressure continued.
Splinter began to approach, taking his time with every step. "Yame." 'Stop'.
The boy did not. He almost appeared as if he hadn't heard his master, but the distance between them made that impossible.
"Donatello, that's enough."
Still no change. There were hints of rips on the punching bag.
"Donatello-"
"Leave me alone!" In a blur, Donatello whipped his body around, raising his staff down, and brought it down hard towards his master -
And in equally fast motions, Splinter threw the tea set upwards, grabbed the end of the staff, yanked Donatello forward, smacked him upside the head, pushed the boy onto his knees, let go of the staff, and then held out his arms to catch the tray. Not a single drop had been spilled. Donatello dropped his staff, and lowered his head in pitiful submission. "... I-I'm sorry, sensei. I... I didn't mean..."
"I know." Splinter sat down across from his son, and placed the tray on the floor between them. "How is she?"
Donatello wouldn't raise his head or his eyes. "... She's hurt. It... it was awful. She's got... all these bruises, and they... her hand was broken, they didn't even... sh-she's not even a fighter, and they didn't show her any mercy..." Something was catching in his throat, and he was in a losing fight against it. "They were going to... to kill her, if we hadn't made it..."
"It does us no good to dwell on the ifs. That's not that's all bothering you." Splinter took one cup, and took a small sip of it.
"... It's all my fault." Donatello held his head, almost wishing he could rip it off. "It's my fault she was there! I almost had her killed!" His hands curled up into fists, bashing onto the ground. "She was so scared! They beat her, and they hurt her, and... I promised to protect her, and I put her there!"
Splinter took another drink. "You all left before you could properly explain how she was captured in the first place. Explain."
Donatello's fists hurt. His arms hurt. His head hurt. Everything hurt and with every beat of his heart everything hurt worse until he wished he was dead. "... I wanted to talk to her alone." His voice was shallow, full of self loathing at his own cowardice and stupidity. "About me... about how I felt about her. So I picked out this secluded place that the others wouldn't know about, so... so they wouldn't make fun of me. I was supposed to meet her at a time I picked out, but... but... I couldn't stop thinking about what I would say, and how'd she react, and I kept chickening out... By the time I finally got there..."
He couldn't bring himself to finish. He'd been hours late after finally getting the courage to talk about his feelings towards her, and as way of apology for the time wasted, had even constructed a somewhat crudely made bouquet of coils and copper wire in the shape of flowers. When he had arrived, all that was left was her shoe and the signs of a struggle. Shredder's minions had seized her, and had tortured her for hours to find information on the turtles. She'd bravely defied every blow, even though it had spelled pain and death for her. Thankfully the turtles had managed to find out where she was held before she was gone for good, but Donatello felt he would never recover from what he felt he had caused.
"All because I couldn't tell her that I love her!" His fists began to smash down again, and Splinter quickly pushed the tea tray aside so it wouldn't get damaged. "I can fight ninjas and robots and mutants, but I couldn't look at her and say I want to be with her! And she almost died because of it! How can I..." he couldn't even finish the sentence. How could he even look at April ever again? How could he be worthy to hold the title of ninja? How could he even live to see the next morning, knowing that he'd nearly helped kill the greatest thing that ever happened to him?
Splinter's cup was empty by this point, so he put it down. "... I have trained the four of you to be the ultimate ninjas. But no matter how skilled you are, no matter how brave and strong you are, every warrior must keep their ability to feel. If they do not, they became men like The Shredder." He reached out, touching Donatello's chinand forcing him to look up. "The guilt you feel is not something I can brush away with a metaphor. But what happened here tonight was not your fault. We are at war with enemies whose cruelness is something we cannot understand. But they, in turn, cannot understand our compassion. That is why April will always be safe, and why you must be there for her."
Donatello's eyes darted momentarily, but then Splinter spoke again to grab his attention. "... And Donatello. You are allowed to cry." He pulled Donatello into his embrace, and nothing more was said between them. Briefly, Splinter recalled his days as a human man, and the precious time he had spent with his wife. In time, he would tell Donatello that for a ninja to share his life with a woman, she would always be in danger, and it would be up to her will and their love to continue forward. But that lesson could wait a little while longer.
~*~
April laid in bed, thinking of how exactly she was going to explain to her aunt how, mysteriously overnight, she resembled the loser in a high stakes wrestling match. She held up her broken hand, now wrapped up tightly. Thank goodness she was right handed. She took small comfort in this, and then heard a rattle at her window. Fear stole her voice as she immediately sat up in bed, but her entire body relaxed to see it was only a purple mask wearing giant turtle at her windowsill. She waved at him, giving him the signal that it was okay to come in. Was it her imagination, or were his eyes a little red?
Any other time, and Donatello would have had a high pitched squeal of delight to be alone with April in her room. Tonight he was solemn as he opened the window and slid in. His tongue clicked to his cheek, looking around as he tried to talk. "... Um... nice room."
"Thanks." She knew he wasn't here to make small talk, so she wasted no time. "Your brothers bandaged me up pretty good, so you didn't have to come check up on me. See?" She waved her injured hand, wincing a little for the effort. "Ow. No high-fives for a while."
She had hoped to crack a smile out of him, but the way he looked at her almost made it seem like he was the injured one. He took a deep breath, and stepped toward her bed. "April, I'm so, so, so, so sorry!"
"Oh, Donny, don't start." She pulled off her covers, ready to stop him.
"If I had been there on time, none of this would have happened!" It was difficult to keep his voice down, but he was making every effort to do so, leaving his flailing arms to make up for the volume he couldn't emit. "I shouldn't have even called you out like that!"
"Neither of us could have guessed the Foot would have been there." She began to get out of bed -
"April, don't you need to rest!" Donatello made a grab for her shoulders -
"I'm not dying, let me just-"
"But I've already done enough, you need to-"
FWUMP!
To be fair, he had succeeded in getting her to lay back down. Unfortunately, the strength between the two had also brought him down on top of her. He froze completely as his blushing face was only inches away from hers. Funny, he had dreamed of this several nights, but to actually have it was slightly horrifying. "... I am so, so, so, so, SO-"
"Knock it off." April cut into his apology, the night shadows hiding her reddening cheeks. "If this is what it takes to get you to listen to me..." She focused in on his eyes, ensuring that he wasn't going anywhere. "I knew what I was getting into when I joined up with you guys. I have always been willing to risk whatever it takes to help you, and to get my father back. I trust all of you, so when you asked me to see you, I did it, even though being alone in this city is dangerous. Because..." Her weary face smiled, and Donatello thought his heart would explode at the sheer beauty of it. "... I know you guys will always come to help me. So I don't regret a second of this."
"... It... it uh..." Forming coherent sentences in his position wasn't easy. "It won't happen again. I promise."
"You can't promise that."
"... I can try."
She rolled her eyes, but then shifted underneath him - Donatello thought she was going to push him off, but instead she used her good arm to wrap around his neck as best she could for a makeshift hug. "... Thanks, Donny. For everything."
She was impossibly warm to his cold skin. Why was she so forgiving after missing an execution by a hair's width of time? His intelligent brain didn't have the answer, but his understanding heart did. "... You're one of the bravest people I've ever known." It was one of the many reasons why he was crazy about her. But being crazy wouldn't do her any good. He willed his heart to beat into a normal pattern again, thinking about the future. If he really wanted to protect her, he'd need to put a cap over his feelings, or at least garner enough control over them to keep up with common sense. She deserved at least that much.
"That means a lot, coming from a ninja." She then nudged his forehead with her own. "Now... get back to the lair before my aunt wakes up. I'm not supposed to have boys in my room."
"Take it easy, April." As Splinter had predicted, all of his guilt hadn't magically washed away. But that constant pounding pain coursing throughout his body had lessened. He moved off of the mattress, and made his way to the door -
"Hey, wait." April was sitting up again, eyebrows up. "What was it that you wanted to talk to me about in the first place, anyway?"
Uh-oh. On the one hand, he kind of owed her that. On the other... Donatello gulped, his hands on the open window as he smiled nervously. "... Would you mind if we had a rain check on this particular discussion?"
"If you mean, 'we'll talk about it later', sure." April smirked. "Do us both a favor and ask Splinter to train you how to speak to girls." Were her aunt not asleep, she would have laughed at the flustered expression Donatello was making as he bolted out of the room. She decided to leave the window open, allowing the cool night air to settle in.
Donatello didn't return home right away. He stood on April's rooftop, and rubbed the back of his neck. The sun was slowly starting to come up, and he decided to watch it. He was still in pain over what had happened, still too cowardly to tell her how he felt, still head over heels for her, and still so full of mistakes he couldn't correct. Despite all that, he watched the rising sun with a gaped smile, wondering if April was watching it too. The night had started horribly, but ended fairy well.
... Until he realized he missed a perfect chance to kiss her.
"Aw, shell!"