∑一 A New Obsession 。・゜・
author’s note: I highly recommend listening to Smoke Sprite by So!YoON! & RM this song was the sudden inspiration for this little drabble
warnings: yandere tendencies, body worship, mentions of stalking, insanity, unstable mind, unedited
—————————————————————————
Now Donatello did not hold the title of the family artisan. That was held securely by Michelangelo. And yet Donnie could not deny himself the precision it took to create that titanium bust of a terribly handsome scientist. So, sure maybe he was an artist, a sculptor. He didn’t really get the spark to create something similar after that. What had fueled the mini sculpture of himself was more geared towards narcissism anyways. But mostly it was a private joke on the internal awareness of said enlarged ego. Among other excuses like he had the spare titanium, and he had needed a break from the intricacies of his inventions.
He hadn’t thought he would ever sculpt again. Actually he didn’t even realize he had started to until the piece was finished. Now as he backed away from the final result, it was not just a bust but a life size replica of someone. Someone he had never met. Unless you counted the fact that he had passed them today in the throngs of the New York night-life crowd. Have you ever been walking, minding your own business, and totally blending in with the crowd with a masterful human disguise? He had headphones on, and a song had just ended, switching to something new. He heard the beat, the guitar. Then suddenly as if his name was called, he looked up from his ever-present phone screen.
His eyes widening marginally as his gaze locked onto the person walking towards him. Not truly to him, but in his direction. People were everywhere, going in all sorts of different directions. Colors beamed from the nonstop advertisements. Flashing brilliant lights on this person, as if life had given them their own personal spotlight. The realization that he had completely stopped walking barely crossed his mind. He was in the middle of the crosswalk too. In favor of directing all his attention to the ethereal being heading his way. Donnie had never experienced anything like this. For a moment he was acutely aware of everything about this person. From their confident walk, to their regal clothes, down to the minute details of them slipping their phone into a jacket pocket. Their hands, their frame hidden behind their clothes, their face. Their eyes coming up to look at their destination, and as they passed him, their eyes met for only a split second.
His heart felt like it stopped. Underneath their captivating gaze the turtle froze even more, his breath catching in his throat. The music practically faded into the background, he could hardly focus on anything other than you passing him by. It all happened so quickly, as they passed like nothing had happened. Donnie guessed nothing really had for them. But he was left with a completely opposite feeling. He fought the urge to turn around. To follow them. His heart restarted, his breathing felt labored, his feet stumbled along the white lines. He barely made it to the other side before the traffic resumed its flow. He whipped around then, eyes searching for the person who had just bewitched him so! Only they were gone, and he felt such crushing disappointment. It was insane. Donnie chided himself as he turned back to his original destination.
He had rushed back to the lair, ripping off the layers of clothing once he entered his lab. And like a madman he went into a creative frenzy. He only came to once he had recreated the person, his person in their entirety. He felt better now that he could see them again. Even if it was just a carbon copy. They were shorter than he was. He analyzed further, wishing he had used color somehow. The grey of the titanium didn’t do them justice. He went down on his knees. Kneeling before his person. This would have to do for now. The odds were slim but he had to find them again. “Who are you?” He murmured curiously. Why had he reacted so strongly? Was he losing his mind? Was he just that lonely? No, he’d been in a crowd before. Met eyes with strangers before. This was different. They were different.
Though it was his hand that had created this sculpture, it shook now as he dared to touch now. It felt sinful. Now that it looked like an actual being. The tips of his fingers grazed the statue’s. “I’ll find you,” he promised aloud. And then he would make them his. Mine. The word rang out in his head like a mantra as he finally stood. It would be difficult, but if Donatello could be described it would be determined. And maybe obsessed but that sarcastic thought didn’t cling to him as he started hacking into street cameras..
