Raph didn't go to Mikey because that was a bald faced lie.
No, he bolted for his room as soon as he was out of sight of Nico, slamming the door shut and locking it. Then he started banging his head against the door for several minutes.
"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Good going, Raph!" he said to himself. "Way to keep things cool and not be a creep!"
He'd just pulled a Donnie. Crossing boundaries when he didn't even know if she liked it. Now what was he going to do? What if he'd already made her uncomfortable?
And what had he done to himself by almost kissing her? He couldn't ignore it now, pretend it wasn't real, that he wasn't feeling it. By going in for a kiss like that, he'd made it real. It was real and now it wasn't going away.
Frustrated with himself, he let out a "ragh!" noise and kicked over his stand of cymbals, so that they tumbled with a cacophonous crash to the floor.
He'd needed to not think about it, to keep it buried so deep even he couldn't find it, but it was there now. He couldn't ignore it anymore. He had feelings for her, all kinds of feelings he didn't know how to deal with. And now he couldn't pretend they weren't there. Now they were just going to chew up his insides where he couldn't do anything about them.
Because she was never going to like him like that. It wasn't even that there was anything wrong with him. He was good looking for a mutant but there was no way a girl like her would want to date a green guy that'd crawled out of a sewer. No way.
Heck, she probably wouldn't want to date even a lot of normal human guys after everything she'd been through. And after everything she'd been through, he'd made a move on her when she probably was sick of guys doing it.
He'd messed up. Messed everything up.
He hated having feelings.
Throwing himself face first on his bed, he bit into his pillow and screamed for a solid minute before going silent, wishing more than ever that his father was still alive, that he was there for him to talk to. His father wouldn't have had all the answers - he'd never had them all - but he would have at least been able to help him get on the right track to figure them out for himself.
When he finally stopped screaming, he sat there with his face pressed in his pillow, half-heartedly (and dramatically) hoping he'd suffocate himself to death. Then he rolled over sideways and pulled the pillow over his head to hide his heartsick grimace away from the world, as if that would somehow make it not really exist.
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No, he bolted for his room as soon as he was out of sight of Nico, slamming the door shut and locking it. Then he started banging his head against the door for several minutes.
"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Good going, Raph!" he said to himself. "Way to keep things cool and not be a creep!"
He'd just pulled a Donnie. Crossing boundaries when he didn't even know if she liked it. Now what was he going to do? What if he'd already made her uncomfortable?
And what had he done to himself by almost kissing her? He couldn't ignore it now, pretend it wasn't real, that he wasn't feeling it. By going in for a kiss like that, he'd made it real. It was real and now it wasn't going away.
Frustrated with himself, he let out a "ragh!" noise and kicked over his stand of cymbals, so that they tumbled with a cacophonous crash to the floor.
He'd needed to not think about it, to keep it buried so deep even he couldn't find it, but it was there now. He couldn't ignore it anymore. He had feelings for her, all kinds of feelings he didn't know how to deal with. And now he couldn't pretend they weren't there. Now they were just going to chew up his insides where he couldn't do anything about them.
Because she was never going to like him like that. It wasn't even that there was anything wrong with him. He was good looking for a mutant but there was no way a girl like her would want to date a green guy that'd crawled out of a sewer. No way.
Heck, she probably wouldn't want to date even a lot of normal human guys after everything she'd been through. And after everything she'd been through, he'd made a move on her when she probably was sick of guys doing it.
He'd messed up. Messed everything up.
He hated having feelings.
Throwing himself face first on his bed, he bit into his pillow and screamed for a solid minute before going silent, wishing more than ever that his father was still alive, that he was there for him to talk to. His father wouldn't have had all the answers - he'd never had them all - but he would have at least been able to help him get on the right track to figure them out for himself.
When he finally stopped screaming, he sat there with his face pressed in his pillow, half-heartedly (and dramatically) hoping he'd suffocate himself to death. Then he rolled over sideways and pulled the pillow over his head to hide his heartsick grimace away from the world, as if that would somehow make it not really exist.