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Rated: E · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1920410
Donatello never thought much about his hands..that is, until he met April O'Neil.
         Life with three fingers on each hand had always been a bit difficult for Donatello growing up. As a scientist, how bulky his digits were always got in the way and it was hard to grasp some items with the way they were shaped. But because he had grown up with his hands, he never thought much about them.
         He never thought much about them, that is, until he met April. Compared to her, his hands were monstrous. They were big and bulky and so...deformed compared to the  soft palms the female had, how perfectly shaped the digits of her fingers were and how neatly groomed she kept them.
         Around April, Donnie felt very self conscious about his hands. He always tried to find something to preoccupy them with when the red head was around whether it was with his bo staff or some sort of invention he was working on at the time. She never seemed to notice or really care, which relaxed Donatello more than anything else could when around her.
         “Hey, Donnie, can I see your hands for a sec?”
         Donatello felt his blood run cold and he did his best to keep himself calm. “Sure, April. What for?” He wanted to deny her, but looking into the blue orbs that were her eyes, he knew he couldn’t. He could easily crack a joke to cover his insecurity but his so called ‘intelligent mind’ couldn’t think of anything smart to say. For once.
         Before Donatello could find an excuse to not give her his hands, the teenager took them from his side and looked them over. He felt a blush kiss his cheeks as he watched April run her fingers over his palms, his fingers, examining every scar and flaw in his skin.
         “Um, April, is everything okay?”
         “Yeah, I’ve just never really looked at you and the others’ hands before. I know that probably sounds weird, but I forget you’re mutant turtles, sometimes.”
         Donatello felt his heart do a flip and he fumbled with finding his voice that was somewhere lodged in his throat. “I know they’re not as pretty as yours, but they help us get the job done round here.”
         He took a breath and followed her lead, touching her hands in return. The mutant was surprised to find that she allowed his actions, spreading her fingers and palm out so he could examine them. Donatello traced every line and examined every nail. He glanced at her eyes and felt himself blush harder when he realized she was smiling at him.
         “Sorry...”
         “No, it’s fine. Really. See?” She placed her hands in his and moved his fingers so that they were holding hers. Donnie felt how small and soft her hands were in his and knew if he wanted to he could easily break the fragile fists...but he wouldn’t. No...couldn’t. “You’re hands are just fine, Donnie. Don’t sweat it.”
         “But they’re so different.”
         “Not really.”
         Donatello felt confused. April moved into him and turned so her back was grazing his body. She flipped over his hands and spread out his fingers so he could see the comparison of her hands and his. “See? No difference at all.”
         The mutant rested his chin on top of April’s and tried to see what she saw, but failed. His hands were huge and his three fingers seemed more like extraterrestrial worms than anything else.
         “I’m sorry April, I just...I just don’t see what you mean.”
         The girl’s hands stretched out more, as though she was trying to make what she saw obvious.
         “You have fingers, just like me.”
         “But I only have three.”
         “So? Three’s company. Besides, humans sometimes miss fingers too, Donnie. You also have lines in your palm, just like mine.”
         “True...but mine are green.”
         “So? Humans come in brown, yellow, white and red. Green makes you unique.”
         Donatello thought over what she said, feeling stumped. April stepped away and his body became cold from the lack of warmth he had gained from the red head. She turned and closed his fists, smiling at him.
         “You say to-may-toe, I say toe-mah-toe. Just cause you’re a little bit different than me, Donnie, doesn’t make you any less human.”
         Donatello gazed down at her, his heart hammering in his chest. She smiled wider and ran her fingers over his cheek. “You’re not an animal, Donnie, nor are you a monster. You’re a man. And maybe the rest of the world or you can see it...but I can.” She grinned and her hand dropped from his face. She turned and left, leaving the mutant alone with his thoughts.
         Gazing down at his hands, Donatello, for the first time in his life, didn’t see the green, three fingered mutant hand he had grown up with. Instead, he saw normal hands. Hands like April had. After that moment, Donnie was never self conscious about his hands again.
© Copyright 2013 Caledonia Hanson (greenidadmirer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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