Chapter 3: He's Truly a Player

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"I can't believe you're a girl." He said, looking straight into my eyes.

"What? You haven't seen a girl before?" I chuckled slightly to myself. Reaching for the voice changing necklace, I undid the hook and took it off. 

"No." He paused, "It's not like that. It's just, I haven't thought of a girl bodyguard before." He looked at me again as if not knowing what to think.

I stopped placing the needles into his skin and glanced up. He was grinning at me. "What's with that look?" I asked.

He smiled, "Nothing."

"Is that so?"

He nodded.

"Well, then," I said, continuing placing another needle into his hand, "I'll have to try this." I placed the needle under his skin a bit harder than I had been.

"Ow!" He complained, "What was that for?"

"For giving me a weird look and for not answering my question." I paused, "Actually, you know what? My first wish is for you to tell me the truth all the time."

He silenced.

"Hey, you promised me those three wishes, remember?" I said, "Anyway, I don't really care if you lie to other people, just not me."

"Fine."

I looked at him again, That's the face boys make when they are thinking. I smiled, "So tell me the answer for that question again."

He grinned yet again, "What was the question?"

Seriously, some memory he has. "Why were you giving me that look?"

He just kept on grinning, "Because I'm interested," he paused, "in you."

I rolled my eyes. He was definitely a player. I placed another needle into his hand harder than the one before that.

"Ow!" He reacted tensely, "I was telling the truth!"

"I know."

He casted me that look again, "Really?"

"You want me to put these needles into your skin the hard way?"

He silenced again.

"Thank you." I said, "This is going to hurt a bit."

He glanced away, watching the city lights shine behind the clear windows of the night.

I concentrated on the needles, placing a little pressure on each needle a little more and after a while pulled them out slowly. Every time I pulled a needle, he reacted a bit, but he tried his best to keep still. I knew this because this method was painful. It had happened to me before.

"There," I said, dusting my hands. "Done."

He glanced down at his hand and tried to move a finger, but it didn't budge. "Why can't I move my hand?"

I packed up the needles again and stared at him, "You can't move it for three days."

"Three whole days?!"

I ignored his reaction and pulled a roll of bandages out. Gently wrapping his hand and trying not to disturb the flow of blood in his veins, I lifted his hand up and rolled the bandages around each finger. Finally, as a finishing touch, I tied a knot.

"Hopefully, this will help." I said, "If you chunk anything or move your hand with too much pressure, it's going to be paralysed for a lifetime," I paused, "and I can't fix it anymore."

He was quiet again. The atmosphere of the room changed.

"Thank you." He finally replied.

"No worries." I answered, "I'll see you tomorrow then," I took a few steps to the door.

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