"Are you sure this is okay?" Annalise asks.

Michelangelo looks at her over his shoulder, his large orange hoodie carving a shaded line across his face. He flashes a dazzling smile and Annalise can't help but return it. When he smiles, the result is infectious and for a moment, she forgets about everything that's less than ideal.

"Nah, humans aren't very active in the morning. We're all cool," he assures her.

Michelangelo sets her down on the rooftop and stretches his arms to the steadily brightening sky, basking in the presence of fading stars and chirping birds. The only evidence of the rising sun is its rays peeking over the horizon, the wind still laced with the chill of night. Annalise observes him for a moment before setting down their picnic blanket.

The movement brings him back to Earth and he turns, dashing over to help her. They lay down their choice of a blanket and their food and when they're done, Michelangelo gestures to the space with the grand aura of a prince.

"After you, mon cherry," he offers.

She arches an eyebrow. "Mon cherry?"

He blinks a few times. "That's the right word, right? Casey told me it was something about cherries..."

She giggles, nodding her head. "I think it's ma chérie," she says with a small, confused frown. "But whatever, thank you anyway."

He exhales, stepping back and waiting for her to sit down before he does. Nervous excitement courses through him and he has to remind himself not to fidget and tap his fingers. But, it's his first date, and it's very hard to stay still through the nerves.

He reaches for the food when he notices her shiver out of the corner of his eye. He hardly wastes a second before taking off his hoodie and giving it to her, eyes bright and hopeful. She murmurs a soft thank you before tugging it over her head. She waves her arms around in the oversized sleeves, a cute smile on her face as the hood slips over her forehead. He has to stop himself from staring.

He returns to setting out the food and they take little time for conversation, focused entirely on stuffing their faces. Crumbs decorate Annalise's chin and line her lips, her face alight with glee at finally filling her empty stomach, and Michelangelo counts himself lucky that she isn't stuffy about manners.

"This...is so good," Annalise mutters around a mouthful of food, eyes rolling upwards as she lets out a happy groan. She lifts up a golden ball of dough. "You made these? Like, they weren't bought or anything?"

"I call them pizza puffs since they're fluffy bite-sized pizza buns," Michelangelo says with pride. "You like them?"

"Love them!" She nearly drops her puff, squeaking as she scrambles to catch it. She blushes hard and wipes crumbs from her face. "Well...I just like food in general." She takes another bite, some pizza sauce and cheese escaping the puff and spilling onto her fingers. She turns redder. "Aw, geez, sorry, I'm so messy."

She braces herself as he looks at her, a little bit of pizza sauce dotting his freckled cheeks. He shrugs and pops another pizza puff into his mouth, chewing like a wood-chipper grinding a log, and hands her a napkin.

"I like a girl who isn't afraid to eat," he comments.

A stupid grin spreads across her face and she hides behind her hair as she wipes the sauce from her hands. He crams another puff into his mouth, snatching up some other items spread across their blanket, and she giggles at the sheer amount of crumbs accumulating on his face.

He notices her gaze and stops. "What?" he asks around the food, an innocent twinkle in his eyes.

"You're all messy," she snickers.

He brushes it off with a nonchalant hand gesture. "Nah, it's all good. I've got this, see?"

He pokes his tongue and attempts to lick his nose and cheeks, stretching his neck higher and higher with each try. She shakes her head through her laughter at his antics.

"Here," she offers through a few more giggles, "let me help."

She scoots closer to him, settling on her knees and pushing the hoodie sleeves out of the way. She reaches her hand up to his face, dusting the crumbs off his lips, and he goes rigid, staring at her with wide eyes.

She's touching me. She's touching my lips. She's...holy shell, I've died and gone to heaven, he thinks.

"You have soft hands," he whispers out of the blue.

Her cheeks blaze red. "Oh, I'm sorry. That's totally crossing some boundaries."

He laughs. "No way! Touch my face all you want!"

To prove his point, he sticks his face closer to her, making her laugh. The sound is like music to his ears. She places her hands on his plastron, trying to push him away as she fights off fits of giggles.

"Touchy touchy," he teases, shaking his head and pushing himself closer.

"Mikey!" she squeals.

"Isn't my face so cute and touchable? You know it is!" He grins, inching even closer with each word as his face nears hers.

"You're so weird!" she exclaims, cheeks aching as much as her ribs.

"I can be even weirder!"

"No way!"

"Yes, way! Don't doubt my powers, cutie!"

He looms in and she grips his shoulders before losing balance, the two of them toppling over. He manages to catch himself, her hands staying on him while he can't make himself move. His heart is pounding and his entire body feels warm and happy, like sunshine.

"Touch the face, Lisey," he utters.

"What is with you and face-touching?" she demands through breathless gasps.

"Who knows? I don't!" He pokes his tongue out and makes a weird noise.

She releases his shoulders and he's about to open his mouth when she rests her hands on his cheeks. Her laughs start to slow, dying down to little gasps of breath. His tongue is still poking out, his face slightly stretched from her grip, and he wonders whether she can feel the heat in it.

He brings his tongue back into his mouth, eyes starry as he gazes at her, and he imagines what it would be like to lean down and kiss her. Her breaths even out and her hands relax so that she's cupping his face gently. Slowly, she lifts herself upwards, their eyes staying locked on each other. His breath hitches as he moves with her until they're both sitting up, the distance between them unchanged.

Neither teen says a word, both searching for something within their partner's eyes. Then, Annalise's kitten soft smile returns and she runs her thumb along his cheek, just below his mask. Nervous goosebumps erupt all over his body and he's suddenly very glad that he isn't wearing the hoodie. He'd overheat.

"I like your freckles," she murmurs. "They're...cute."

Flabbergasted, he blurts the first thing on his mind. "I like your eyes," he says. "They're pretty, like snowflakes but they're bluer. Like blue cotton candy." He pauses. "Blue."

She bites her lip, gliding her hands down and off his face, and she brushes her loose bangs behind her ear. He can't help but feel slight disappointment at the absence of her touch, but he hides it with a rather dreamy smile.

"Hey, I know things are a little weird right now," she says, folding her hands together in her lap. "But...trust me, I'm a lot more fun once I'm comfortable and...I feel comfortable around you, Mikey."

"And my family?" he wonders.

"They're quirky. I could get used to it."

"Oh, good."

He grins. In the recesses of his mind, he keeps imagining getting up the courage to ask if he can kiss her, but that courage fails him today. He feels strange even thinking of it and hopes that maybe she's thinking of it too. He'd feel less weird that way.

"So, Lisey, how was this for a first date?" he asks, starting to pack up the picnic.

"The best I've ever had," she answers, getting to her feet. "I'd like the second one when I'm not so busy. Circa is the first priority, right?"

A second date. She wants a second date. Michelangelo feels like his head and heart could explode right now.

He poses heroically. "Saving the citizens must always be the first priority, dudette. Because in case you can't tell, I'm a hero."

"The real Superman," she says with a smirk.

"I like to think...Mario Bros hero."

She quirks an eyebrow and looks him over. "Oh, yeah...I can see you in a moustache and plumber's outfit."

He gestures before him widely and bows. "It's a-me, a-Mikey."

"Who's your Princess Peach?" she asks with a laugh.

He offers his hand to her. "You?"

Her entire face turns red and she rests a hand over her mouth before taking his. "I...oh, yeah. Totally." She fans herself once and lets out a breathless, "I'm Peach." She speaks to no one in particular, as if to herself.

He scoops her into his arms, winking. "Gotta get you home, my dear princess. You've got school."

"Ugh, noooo..." She wraps her arms around his neck, groaning as she rests her head on his shoulder. "I just wanna keep goofing off."

"Me too, dudette."

"At least you don't have school."

"I have Splinter. And training. And today I think he's testing reflexes. Those always end in bruises."

She looks up at him, hums, then nods. "Okay, I'll take Geography over bruises." She eyes the picnic blanket. "Uh, don't you need those?"

"I'll come back for them. You come first." As he starts off for her home, he adds, "If you want, you can keep the hoodie. It's a bit cold out this morning."

She looks down at the hoodie, then nods. "Okay, thank you."

"Tomorrow, just text me when you're ready to head over. Gotta make sure we don't tire you out."

"Gotcha."

They keep going, happy to be with each other in silence.