Here's a little drawing I made of the scene. Sorry I'm so focused on this oneshot in particular, I just love it so much. I will make some of the other turtles. Enjoy!

Ever since that day, Donnie came to see you every night. He would stay hidden, with his Shakespeare book in his hands, waiting for your arrival, and admire what he could never have.

Judging by your textbooks, you were a student, and you often did your homework on the rooftop.

You had the strangest effects on him: chills, sweats, butterflies, etc.

Right now, your (h/c) hair was floating in the evening breeze as you mumbled against your crayon, stuck on this one number.

'It is my lady, O, it is my love!
O, that she knew she were!
She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?' He smiled at the thought.

You sighed, leaning your head against your hand, ignorant of Donnie's presence. You looked up from your notebook to the starless black sky of New York City. But stars were not needed tonight, for your beautiful (e/c) eyes reflected the moonlight like jewels.

'Her eye discourses; I will answer it!' But Donnie retained himself. 'I am too bold. Tis not to me she speaks.'

Perhaps this longing feeling is unhealthy for him. After all, he knows that he will never meet you in person. But your beauty blocks all negative thoughts, and he just keeps admiring.

'Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business,
Do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?'

Donatello sighed dreamily, every muscle of his body relaxed. The lovestruck turtle was finally beggining to understand how Romeo felt.

'See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek-'

'Thud!'

"Ah!"

"*gasp*"

Donnie was so out of it that his book slipped from his hand! You jumped in surprise at the sound, and in turn, you dropped your homework all the way down the alley below.

"*sigh* Great..."

You got up and went to see what made that sound. A few feet away, laying on the ground, was a red covered book. You picked it up.

"What? Why would that be there?" you wondered out loud.

"Hello? Is somebody up-... here..."

Looking back at your previous study spot, you saw your notes and textbooks sitting on the edge of the roof.

"But- Didn't they-Didn't I just-?"

This was getting too creepy for you. You quickly took your things and headed back inside.

Outside, poor Donatello was banging his head against a wall, muttering 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!'

***

He was sure that he messed up. That you were never coming back.

And yet, there you were the next day, sitting by your usual study spot as if nothing ever happened.

Except, this time, you weren't holding textbooks.

You were holding his book.

To be honest, you've been looking at it all day, having no clue what secrets it held, but having no intentions of opening it either: that would have been rude without the owner's approval.

Because you did suspect that he or she was there when they dropped it and ran off.

But a few questions still remained: who are they? Why were they on your roof? What was in that book? Perhaps something personal, like a diary? Or was it about you? Were they stalking you and writing down everything they had learned in this red-*gasp* WAS IT A DEATH NOTE?!?

You quickly got up and paced back and forth.

"Calm down (Y/N), you're imagination is making stuff up! There's probably nothing in there...but if it was about me, I have the right to look at it, right?...But, what if it isn't? I could be violating their privacy and..."

While you were having your little inner turmoil, poor Donnie didn't know if he should panic at the situation or sigh in joy: this was the most he had ever heard from you.

'She speaks:
O, speak again, bright angel!'

"That's it: I'm opening it."

No! Not that! Say anything else but that!

But what was said was said. And what was said was done.

As you flipped the pages and read the title, Donnie closed his eyes and ducked his head in embarassment and shame, preparing for the worst.

But instead of being bombarded by an explosion of flames as expected, he was greeted with a burst of radiant light:

You smiled.

You knew this story. You knew these words.

And you began to lose yourself as you recited them.

"*sigh* O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?"

Donnie looked at you in astonishment. Was he dreaming? Was there suddenly something wrong with his hearing? He hoped not. Were you really?...

"Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

You were! He couldn't beleive it!

"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"  Donnie mouthed as you continued, lost in your own little world.

The roof was your stage, and, for a moment, he almost felt like he was playing the scene with you.

" 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague." You were walking in circles, making big gestures with your hands to an invisible public you didn't know actually existed.

"What's Montague?" You wondered.
"It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man."

You sighed once more and leaned against one of the walls of the rooftop entrance. What you didn't know was that a certain turtle was leaning against the opposite wall, hanging on to every word you spoke.

"O, be some other name!
What's in a name?" You whispered.
"That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. " You closed your eyes, and tried to imagine what love felt like.

"Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee" you held the book to your chest, almost hugging it.
"Take all myself."

"I take thee at thy word!"

"*gasp*!"

Donnie clamped his mouth with both hands. He said that outloud, didn't he?

Seconds. Minutes past in silence. Horror was engraved on both your faces, but for completly different reasons. Neither of you dared to move an inch.

'I really blew it this time.' he thought. 'She'll never come back now! She will stay away from me- and her rooftop- forever!'

'If this is the last I'll see of her... might as well make it count.' He took a deep, shaky breath, and continued.

"C...C-Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized...
H-Henceforth... *sigh* I never will be Romeo." he whispered sadly.

"Wha-?..."

You didn't know what to think. Your heart was pounding.

"What..."

This was insane. Could you trust this man?

"What...man art thou that...
Thus bescreened in night...
So stumblest on my counsel?"

It took Donnie a moment to gather his thoughts. What should he say? He didn't want to lie to you.

"...By a look..."

You frowned. That's not what's in the book. It's 'name', not 'look'.

"I know not how to tell thee... what I am:
My appearence, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee...
Had I it written, I would tear the word."

Mutant.

You could easily tell this man was the owner of the book, but you didn't know him. Or, at least you thought you didn't. There was something oddly familiar about his voice.

"My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue's utterance...
Yet I know the sound
Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?"

You slowly turned around and peeked at the other side of the wall; on the opposite side of the entrance stood a silhouette, a man hiding in the shadows.

"Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike." he answered.

He was trying to tell you something, but what? Was he shy? Did he think he was ugly?

"Then... what is your name?" you asked him gently.

Donnie was freaking out. You were face to face (well, technically, since you couldn't really see his face) having an actual conversation!

"D-Donatello..." he cursed himself for studdering.

"Well, Donatello..." He never knew his own name could sound so sweet, "wouldn't you like to come where I can see you?"

He backed away even more from the light.

"Th-that's not a good idea." You frowned.

"Why not?"

"B-Because! I don't want to scare you! I'm not... normal. I'm not..."

"You're not what?" you asked patiently.

He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat.

"I'm not... human."

Silence fell between you once again. You didn't want to beleive him, the way he said it so pitifully...

"Give me your hand."

"What?"

"I asked you to show me your hand."

Donnie was surprised, but he reluctantly and slowly reached out to you. He saw your eyes widen at the sight of his green, three-fingered hand. At that moment, he felt very anxious and self-conscious.

Until he felt your hand against his.

You were observing him and noting what you saw in your mind. You put your hands palm to palm, to compare the different sizes. You then tried to hold it: you could barely hold one of his fingers. You looked so concentrated.

"What's your name?" He wondered outloud. You looked up from your hands, met a pair of reddish-brown eyes in the shadows. They were filled with many emotions, some of which you could not identify: there was curiosity, anxiety, wonder, surprise, and something else. You've never seen a look like that before. You began to lose yourself just like before, but this time, in his eyes.

"I'm-"

"(Y/N)!"

You both jumped in surprise, and let go of each other's hands. The door that lead to the second floor of your appartment opened, and you saw your mother appear behind it.

"(Y/N)! You've been up here all evening. Come downstairs, supper's ready."

You had turned around to hide Donatello, but he dissapeared into thin air. You looked back at your mom, a little confused.

"Uh, yeah! I will, just...um...let me find my book first, ok?"

"Alright, but don't take too long."

With that, your mom went back inside. You scanned the rooftop, wondering if your special friend was still here.

"Donatello? Where are you?"

"Up here."

You looked back at the entrance: at the top, stood Donatello in the moonlight. You finally had a glimpse of what he looked like: he had green skin, a staff strapped to the back of a shell, and a purple bandana around his eyes that was floating slightly in the wind. He was telling the truth: he wasn't human. But, in a way, he kinda looked like a superhero.

He jumped down, but kept his distance. He glanced at you worriedly.

"Please don't be scared. I won't hurt you."

You smiled as you took a few steps towards him.

"I know."

He smiled back, revealing a cute gap between his teeth.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" You jogged to the door and picked up the red-covered book. "I wanted to give this back to you."

"Oh, thank you." Donnie answered as he took it gently from you hands. You started walking to the door, but then paused a moment. You turned back to him and said:

"Good night, good night!
Parting is such sweet sorrow..."

He smiled.

"Then I shall say good night
'Till it be 'morrow."

You smiled back as you closed the door.

And as Donnie ran back to the lair, all he could think was:

'(Y/N). Her name is (Y/N)...O blessed, blessed night!'