The dim glow of neon signs barely cut through the fog settling in the alleyway. Donatello adjusted his gauntlet, pretending not to notice Pei Kanj watching him with that ever-present smirk. The assassin had a rose in his mouth, the stem clenched loosely between his teeth, its petals brushing against his cheek.

Donnie exhaled sharply. "Is there a reason you’re standing there looking like a dramatic stage play extra?"

Pei plucked the rose from his mouth with gloved fingers, twirling it idly. "You're one to talk, mon amour," he teased, motioning to the identical flower tucked between Donnie’s lips. "Matching accessories? Bold choice."

Donnie narrowed his heterochromatic eyes. "You put this here."

Pei tilted his head. "And yet, you haven’t taken it out."

A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant hum of the city. Donatello rolled his eyes but didn’t remove the flower. Pei simply grinned, stepping in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"You wear it well, genius."

Donatello didn’t dignify that with a response—but the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth didn’t go unnoticed.