Chapter 21: Strawberry
A symbol of Venus, the Goddess of Love, the strawberry is thought to bring prosperity and healing. Ancient Romans believed that strawberries could alleviate feelings of melancholy.
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Raphael sees red, his eyes white and his teeth gritted so hard that he could shatter them if he tried. He storms across the rooftops, kicking air conditioning units and punching chimney stacks as he mutters to himself.
"Stupid Leo...hypocritical shell-for-brains," he grumbles. "Maybe I do love her, but it's not like he hasn't ever felt like that. I can't just...ugh, stupid. I just had to open my big fat mouth..."
He bristles and lets out a shout as he whirls around and punches the nearest wall over and over and over again until he splits the skin of his knuckles open on one hand. The pain snaps him back to reality for a moment and his arm falls limp as he looks up at the sky. How is he supposed to know if he's in love? He's never been in love. Could he feel something like that after such a short amount of time?
He takes a deep breath. There's only one person that he wants to see right now, even if he already saw her tonight. Maybe that's greedy but Raphael doesn't care. He doesn't want to go home yet.
He breaks into a sprint towards the Purple Dragons' hideout, the abandoned fortune cookie factory. Best case scenario, he'll be able to catch her attention without alerting the other Dragons. Worst case scenario, he spends the evening alone with his thoughts.
The factory is dark. Only a few windows throughout the building still have light in them and Raphael idly wonders how many members live in there. He gets his binoculars out of his belt and searches each lit window, hoping that she'll be in one of them. Movement catches his eye in one of them and he switches to it, just able to catch a glimpse of a figure with long black hair.
He puts the binoculars away and deploys his grappling hook. He lands against the wall, feet braced against the brick, and he inches down towards the window with his heart pounding. He finally reaches the ledge and peeks into the room.
The first thing he notices is that the room is incredibly tiny. There's hardly enough space for the single bed, the dresser, and the suitcase tucked away in the corner. Taylor has her back to him, pulling her hair into a ponytail and exposing her neck and shoulders to his view. He reaches over and taps lightly on the glass.
Taylor whips around, eyes wide and fists raised as her hair falls back around her shoulders. Raphael flashes a sheepish smile and waves, making her lips part.
"Raph? Que eres..." She cuts herself off and moves to the window, shoving it open with a creak. "What are you doing here?" she hisses.
"I'm sorry, I had to," he says, trying to look as apologetic as possible. "I...I couldn't stay at home."
Her expression softens and she casts a quick look over her shoulder. "De acuerdo, date prisa," she mutters, ushering him into the room as she hurries to the door.
As he climbs inside, she jams a piece of wood under the doorknob to act as a makeshift lock. Raphael closes the window and she turns back to him, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes narrow.
"You know, when you said see you later, I didn't think it'd be the same night," she says. She keeps talking in a raised whisper.
"I know, it ruins the romance of it all," he retorts at the same volume. He shuts his eyes. "But I had to see you again."
Her face softens and she glances down at his hands. Her eyes widen and she reaches out, taking his hand and examining the blood on his knuckles.
"You're hurt," she whispers.
"I'm fine," he grunts.
He's the farthest thing from fine that a turtle can be. In the history of being fine, he is the least fine of all. The most "not fine" person has nothing on him.
"Don't give me that mierda," she says, glaring up at him. "You punched something hard enough to make yourself bleed. That's..." She shakes her head and drags him over to her bed. "Siéntate. I'll clean you up."
He lowers himself onto her bed and waits while she kneels in the corner of her room. Reaching down, she wiggles a floorboard out of place and plunges her hand into the space left behind. She comes up with an item only to set it down and dive back in, repeating the process until she's satisfied.
She fixes the floorboard back in place and gathers her items, bringing them to the bed and setting them down once more. Raphael eyes a small bottle of whiskey nestled among bandages and cloth. She notices his gaze and sighs.
"It's easier to access than rubbing alcohol," she states. "It works in a pinch, though."
"You have to hide this stuff?" he asks as she sits down next to him and pours some of the alcohol onto a cloth.
She nods and drags his hand onto her lap. "A gang isn't a family, Raph. It's every man for himself. I've gotta protect what I—this is gonna sting—have."
"Wha—" He forces back an audible yelp as she presses the cloth to his beaten knuckles, spreading a burning sensation through his hand.
She smirks a little. "Told you."
"Thanks for the warning," he grumbles.
She dabs away at the blood, switching to a cloth with cold water once she's satisfied. "So," she says as she works, "what was it this time? Did a wall give you a funny look?"
He can't get himself to give her an amused huff or even a smirk. Leonardo's words bounce around in his head, replaying their argument, and he wishes he could take it all back. It got too out of hand far too fast.
"I...had a fight with Leo," he mutters as she works.
"Physical fight? Did you hit him?"
"No...just..." He swallows hard. "Words. Lots of words."
She lets out a long hum. "Lucky it wasn't more, hm?"
His stomach twists and she turns away to pick up a tube of antibiotic cream. He can only imagine the fights she's gotten involved in, how many times she's sat in this very room cleaning up her own cuts and bruises with nobody there to help her. Just thinking of it breaks his heart.
She starts bandaging his hand. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He shakes his head. "No."
She glances up at him, a soft smile on her face. "Okay, then we won't." She finishes the bandaging and pins it in place. "You know, you really shouldn't be here."
He frowns. "Don't the other guys have...girlfriends, wives..?"
"Sure, some of the guys, but I don't see much of them. A lot of the muchachos have homes right around the area and their girls stay there. I live here because I don't have anywhere else." She reaches up to comb her hair back, inching a hair elastic off her wrist and around her ponytail. When she notices him staring at her, her gaze turns venomous. "What?"
He isn't the slightest bit deterred by her glare. "How'd you end up here, Tay? Of all places?"
She shuts her eyes and drops her hands, abandoning her ponytail. It's a rhetorical question, thank God, but it's worse to think that he's only asking because he's worried about her. She can't imagine telling him about everything that happened to her and everything that she had to do to make a place for herself in this gang.
"Raph...there's so much you don't know," she whispers, "about me." She shakes her head. "I think you're an idiot."
He leans closer to her. "Yeah, but...you're a weirdo."
Her mouth betrays her, quirking into a smile, and he wishes he could return one. She tilts her head and brings herself a little closer. Her eyes dart to his lips.
"Raphael," she murmurs. "I want you to kiss me again."
"I want to kiss you again."
A fleeting laugh. "Maybe you should."
He does. His arms surround her and she climbs onto his lap and cups his face as his hand runs up her back, resting between her shoulder blades. He wants to be able to tell her what he's feeling, to say that he's falling for her in an irrevocable way, that his family is worried about what could happen but that he doesn't care because he can't lose her now. There is so much that he wants to tell her, but he is a man of action and kissing her like his life depends on it is the only way he can show her his feelings.
She breaks away, panting softly as he looks up at her. "Can you stay?" she breathes.
"No," he says. "They'll start to worry."
She reaches past him and shuts off the light, leaving them with nothing but pale moonlight casting shadows over them. She leans in, lips brushing. "Then stay for as long as you can."
They delve back into each other.
Outside the building, a dark shape perches on a water tower. She didn't intend to follow him, but his route was too suspicious and her concern took over. Now, she turns away and takes to the air as a sigh leaves her. Whatever Raphael is doing, she hopes that he can handle it.
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