[That moment where Donatello puts the journal down kind of makes Robert's stomach flip and scrunch in on itself from anxiety. The decision to actually call the turtle hadn't been an easy one to make, and the delay was just making him even more poignantly aware of how uncomfortable he was.

But this would be the worst possible moment to run. Not that Robert hadn't run at the worst possible moment before - but he willed himself this time to stay. To... to face up to this. It was for Donatello's sake, and for the vague little hope that maybe Donatello wouldn't hate him for this.

Still, his first response is a question.]

I-I... d-did I call at a bad time? I apologize, I didn't... [Okay, he was babbling and that had to stop. Robert forces himself to calm down a little. Just a little. His voice is still shaky, quiet; maybe it's obvious how little he slept last night, he doesn't know.]

... I... You told me that... that if I still h-had feelings, to call you. In a few days. [He doesn't know if this is "a few" but...]

... and, e-er, this particular... situation's outcome has yet to change. [Robert's voice hitches a bit, almost breaks from anxiety. He can't help how he rambles a little, in a stuttery broken sort of way, that distracted way that he has when he isn't sure exactly what to say and tries to sound like he does regardless.]

I realize that you, er, p-probably don't... don't want to deal with me again right now and you have b-better things to do and surely you a-aren't interested in that - you probably don't even like humans anyway like that and it's likely much too soon, we barely know each other and...

[Robert falls silent, his cheeks burning. He kind of writhes in place.]

I... Gah. I... I just apologize for all of this. T-Terribly ridiculous of m-me.