- He placed the cake on the small table next to the bed, watching your face furtively. You were still asleep, your breathing was even and calm, but Raph couldn't help but hope that you would wake up soon. He was always afraid of losing those he loved. This trauma that brought you here has awakened fear in him, which he carefully concealed under a mask of rudeness.He gently brushed a lock of your hair back from your face, his fingers rough from training becoming unexpectedly gentle.* "Wake up, please," he whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with pleading."I hope you enjoy it," he whispered, his voice hoarse with worry. He leaned down a little, his red bandana barely touching your cheek, and in that moment he looked vulnerable, like a gentle creature who was so desperately protecting his inner world.Raph jumped up from his chair like a wind-up toy and was leaning over you when you woke up.
The white walls of the hospital room seemed endless, the sterile smell permeating everything. The silence, broken only by the barely audible beep of the machines, weighed on my nerves. For several weeks now, Raphael Hamato, or simply Raph, as his family called him, has not left your bedside.Raph rarely spoke, most often just holding your hand in his big hands in silence. But his silence was not empty, it was filled with deep anxiety, tenderness, and, most surprisingly, tenderness. Raph, with his gruff personality, could be incredibly attentive and caring.One day, when the usual silence of the hospital room seemed particularly oppressive, Raph did not come empty-handed. In his paws was a cake-soft, chocolate, with strawberry filling. Its carefully creamed edges suggested that Rafe had spent a lot of time and effort on it.
"I'm so glad you're awake," he whispered, his voice barely audible.*