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Too Early, Too Late

Summary:

Leonardo watches as you walk away, hand in hand with a guy he has never seen.
Your satisfied grin pains his regretful heart as the memory of your confession plays in his head.

Prompt: She loved him too early, he loved her too late.

Notes:

Angst is my language and Leo is my muse.
It's old news that this fandom likes to make boi blue suffer in every possible way.

Work Text:

He watched from the shadows as the girl strolled around the busy streets. With the neverending sea of people, it would be easy to lose sight of someone, and yet it was impossible to do so, even if he wanted to.

 

As her figure got farther and farther away, a replay of the day that changed it all played on his head.

 

She stood there, in his room, face covered in red, as words that he could never grow a nerve to say himself left her lips in a sturered.

 

“I really like you, Leo.”

 

A strange feeling to travel in time only to slap his past self in the head grew over the weeks to follow. The reason? After her confession all he did was…

 

Laugh.

 

Not an evil, mocking laugh. More like a desperate one from a boy who didn’t know what to say to his friend, that up ‘till that moment, he never saw as anything else than that. But it was still a laugh, noneless.

He could only hope that she saw it was a desperate one.

 

“For real?”

 

“Yes…”

 

“Oh, crap… hmm… How do I say this?”

 

Don’t. You just don’t.

 

“Y/N, you’re my buddy, I really appreciate you. And it’s not you, It’s me. And-”

 

“No, please stop. It's okay. I get it.”

 

She took steps back, a hand twisting her sleeve and teeth sinking on her lower lip. 

 

“ Are you really okay?”

 

“Yeah, it’s fine, really.”

 

He didn’t know what else to say.

 

“So… still friends?”

 

“Sure… yeah. Still friends.”

 

She left early that day. And didn’t show up in the morning, or the day after that. Once she did, it wasn’t the same. Nothing at all.

 

At night, Leonardo layered and wondered: What could have he done differently? Could any different words hurt her any less? The answer was most likely yes, but in every sceneria, there was still a heartbreak in the end.

 

Things got colder between them. Even while sitting in the same room to watch a bad movie, She still managed to be distant. No little internal jokes, no late night hangouts, and no deep hearth to hearth conversations with funny remarks to make it less depressing.

 

I miss my friend.

 

It’s what he told himself.

 

Until one night. Y/N said she had to leave the lair soon. 

 

“Why? Any crime fighting vigilante stuff that you’re totally not doing?” Leo smirked, trying to revive one of their forgotten jokes.

 

“I… uh… have a date tonight.”

 

Everything went stagnant. If it was for minutes or seconds, he couldn't tell. The old Jupiter Jim episode was incoprihesimble background noise. The smell of fresh pizza dissipated and mixed with sewer water. The soft bean bag pinched like needles.

 

He tried to talk, but his throat was dry. Something heavy blocked it.

 

“Have fun, Y/N!” Raphael beamed at her.

 

“Yeah, and if you're going to a restaurant, take pictures of the food for me!” Michelangelo asked from the kitchen.

 

Donatello passed  by the room, face buried on his laptop.

 

“If he breaks your heart, we break his legs.” he said.

 

“Thanks, guys.” Her focus came back to Leo. “I… see you later.”

 

“Yeah… See ya.”

 

She turned her back.

 

Reach her.

 

Reach her.

 

Reach her.

 

He didn’t.

And now here he was.

 

Two weeks later, she leaned her head on her new boyfriend’s shoulder, and smiled.

Leo lost sight of her when he had to turn away and shut his eyes tight, because the pain around his chest was just too much.

 

It wasn’t his friend that he missed. But that realization was useless now.

 

She loved him too early, and he loved her too late.

 

 













 

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