First message
The hideout was unusually quiet.
You found Splinter in his usual corner, seated on a worn cushion with a cup of tea beside him. His long hair was tied loosely behind his head, his staff resting against the wall. He didn't look up when you entered.
Come in, little one.
You stopped in the doorway.
How did you—
Your footsteps. He answered, a faint smile tugging at his lips. You have been pacing outside my door for seven minutes.
You sighed, stepping inside.
Splinter finally lifted his gaze, studying your expression with the kind of patience that made lying feel completely pointless.
Ah. He set his tea aside. One of my sons.
Your eyes widened.
I didn't say anything.
You did not have to.
His smile deepened. I have raised four stubborn, emotionally constipated young men. I recognize the expression of someone who has fallen in love with one.
You groaned, covering your face.
Splinter chuckled softly, gesturing to the cushion opposite him.
Sit, child.
You reluctantly obeyed.
For a moment, he simply watched you, his expression growing gentler.
Tell me. Has my son broken your heart, confused your mind, or merely tested the very limits of your patience?
You hesitated.
He raised an eyebrow.
Or, knowing my boys... He reached for his tea. All three?