There are so many stories I could be working on right now, I know, don't worry. Paradigm will be updated soon as well as Hunger… and Mutamon for that matter. I have a lot of updates I first just need to publish this because I wrote it over the Thanksgiving when it was freaking COLD in Florida. Seriously. Most annoying thing ever.

TMNT © Viacom
Story © Turtlefreak121

Frostbitten

My skin is hard as diamond, numbed by the polar air. My body is heavy in this winter torpor. My lids cannot be kept from closing. And yet I stir again.

Why?

For taught vigilance only made stronger by years of training. Instinct is not gone or weak, simply not as strong. Simply not as pressing.

Habituation cannot stop all instinct, though. It also cannot alter my genetic predestination.

While I am not the same as my natural terrapin brethren, I am not truly cold blooded; I cannot help but feel like my veins are frozen over.

I long for the summer days where the only slothfulness in my bones belongs to my instinctual sun basking. I can feel the warm rush of blood through my frigid body just by visualizing the burning summer pavement where I melt from existence.

I long for it all and do not receive. Instead I sigh and curl onto April's couch. The cushion sinks in and I'm swallowed by the lukewarm fabric. I stopped here unexpectedly on my way home. I needed to escape the nipping breath of winter outside.

Hot like a furnace, the apartment opened up to me and April, glowing like a tempting ember, drew me in.

Carols play a serene harmony and while it is seasonal I am still reminded that the summer, seemingly so far away, is loud and lively. When I gathered supplies for more gadgets I was met by stale silence. The change of pace is appreciated.

I thank April for hospitality and she entreats me to an embrace. Her itchy sweater irritates my dried skin but the touch of her warm fingers or the heated cheeks of her face is heaven. I feel summer rushing back into my limbs.

She says me dropping by any time is welcomed.

And I do feel welcomed.

The radio sings a new tune as April leaves me to settle for sinking into the tepid fabric yet again. The raspy voice of the artist breathes into my ear as I watch April gather blankets for us to use.

"I am frostbitten, kitten
And it's by you I'm smitten."

...