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29

I turn my gaze down before I say: "I stopped. . . , I stopped because I was afraid"

I know it sounds stupid, but I don't want him to get bored with me. I don't want him to think I'm a scared, I don't want him to think that i'm just a little girl who can't do what he asks of me, I don't want him getting someone else for that.

"Fear of what?" he asks, frowning and still in his earnest voice.

"To hurt me." I mean, looking at him without raising my head.

"And why did you think that?"

Why doesn't he stop asking me questions and give me my reward now?

I take a deep breath and answer: "Because my legs started shaking a lot and. . . and it was burning too much, I thought that was not normal, so I stopped"

I look at his face and notice that it has changed a bit upon hearing my answer. I don't feel him angry anymore, but I can't figure out what that expression is in which his face has been immersed.

The smile that peaks in the corners of his mouth makes me feel, somehow, a little calmer since I
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