Work Text:
Easily the most dedicated and stoic of the turtle brothers, Leonardo does a lot of training on his own. When he practices with his katanas in the middle of the lair, she can't help watching. She'll hear the deadly sharp weapons slicing through the air and have to look up from whatever she is doing. It's a compulsion she can't control, and doesn't care to. It's magical, and she'll never get tired of seeing him like that; focused, controlled, almost predatory.
She's never been able to sneak up on Leo, but when he's really into his training, he seems to forget the world around him. He only knows his swords and his enemies.
His brow furrows and he moves with so much grace and fluidity, she knows he isn't so much thinking as he's feeling the actions. His swords leave his grasp and return to him like strong magnets, like they were created only to do his bidding and knew exactly what their master wanted from them. And Leo knows this. The control he exudes over his weapons and his body takes her breath away.
She has sat and watched him for an hour straight on more than one occasion. When he has reached some stopping point, when he is satisfied with his ability and skill for the moment, he'll drop to his knees, breathing hard. Only then does he really know she's there. Up to the moment he speaks to her, she is mesmerized by him.
"Any notes?" he asks, looking up at her from across the room with a sideways smirk. He always asks the same question, always giving the same smirk. She snaps out of her stupor.
"A little sloppy," she'll lie, and return his smirk.