Your Second Skin • •

[harper avery stevenage]

Harper hadn’t been entirely sure if Thierry would ever talk to her again. She had, after all, made a reference to pulling her own leg off. There weren’t that many guys in the world interested in an amputee, and those that were tended to be a little obsessed with it and less interested in who Harper was. Thierry hadn’t seemed all that fazed though – not after he actually caught Harper in a dress and things made sense. At least, that was how she thought it must have gone. She had been wearing jeans when they met properly for the first time, but Harper wasn’t one to hide her disability. She didn’t even see it as a disability. She could still do all of the things she loved without any issue, and she wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed to have a prosthetic leg. Hers had been designed with a tattoo-esque style pattern printed on the socket. It had been one of those optional choices, but she figured it would help her feel more comfortable about it, and it did. It was like a cast being signed by all your friends; it made the pain of the reality seem less.

When Thierry had invited her out to Coney Island, Harper hadn’t even thought twice about enjoying the lovely day in a pair of denim shorts. He hadn’t asked about her leg, but he also hadn’t ghosted her for it either. She figured that had to be a good sign, even if his interest in her was more friendship than the pinning her against the locked door he had initially described. Harper wasn’t the type to shy away from friends or any kind of adventure. Some of those she’d had since high school had fussed when she was back on her feet, convinced she was more delicate than she was acting. They soon came to understand that Harper was the same spritely girl she had always been. The only difference was that one leg was detachable now and she could skip the queues at theme parks and concerts.

Coney Island was as crowded as ever, but Harper didn’t mind that. She talked Thierry into grabbing a slush before they headed to the line for the Ferris Wheel. It was as they were walking away from the vendor that someone blocked Harper’s path abruptly. The woman was taller than she was, and looked like she was from out of town. Her blue eyes glared down at the confused music student, and her hands felt onto sharp, jutting hips. “Just what do you think you’re doing, parading around like that?” Harper glanced down at her shorts, wondering if they had ridden up or if her white top had gone see through from the droplets from the slush in her hand. Neither had happened. Her shorts still sat mid-thigh and the one droplet on her top was already drying out. “Excuse me?” Before Harper could realise that this was someone who took offence to people’s disabilities when they were out in the world, the woman started on again. “My son is going to have nightmares because of you and that – that thing. You should cover yourself up before you traumatise little children. How selfish can you be?” The realisation dawned on Harper, and she instantly thrust her slush towards Thierry. “And you think I don’t have nightmares about it? Lady, please get a hold of yourself. There are worst things in the world than a false leg. Feel free to tell your kid I’m a pirate.” Harper had dealt with this sort of thing countless times before. She was also sure that this attention was going to cut her afternoon with Thierry short. Not everyone enjoyed being part of a confrontation.

• • •

TAGGED! Thierry Austin Harlow
WORDS! 632!
LYRICS! If The World Should End - - - Jennifer Damiano
NOTES!