'Whatever may come, somewhere deep inside

There's always this version of you and I.'

*ALTHEA'S POV*

October 21, 2023.

Up, down, forward, a dip to the right, another one, and then... the left.

My mouth moved in sync with Asher's lips, and soon, all of me followed: my gaze, of course, my nerves, but also my breath and my heart rate as I whispered through a tense and crooked rictus,

"Yes, you're getting there."

However, it all tumbled down with Asher's lips into a twisted line.

"You always say dat, but I never get there."

"But you're getting closer," I pointed out, keeping my half smile and letting it stretch on both sides. "You've already made a lot of progress."

He might not have noticed it; nevertheless, I was well placed to see every millimeter of progress, sitting in front of him, barely three inches away from his face, two times a day for the past four days.

By now, I could retrace the jagged line of the scar near his eyebrow with my eyes closed. I could certify that he still had three dimples when he laughed heartily. I could glimpse the tiniest crack of chapping on his rosy lips, and mostly, I could note the effects of our 'unconventional facial PT'—as Dr. Rollings had called it.

Well, it was the same standard exercises they had demonstrated, yet adapted to Asher because sitting in front of a mirror to watch the movements of his face wasn't his thing. Not anymore.

To think the guy with his arms around me and a confident grin on the wall next to us now tensed at his mere reflection on a phone screen.

Every time I was sure he couldn't shatter my heart more, these tiny little shards cracked more, and I wished he could have seen his true reflection through them.

But for the moment, the closest image I'd managed to show him was by mirroring his facial expressions when he did those exercises, and luckily, staring at me with his piercing green intensity was still something he liked a lot, making the physiotherapy tolerable for him.

"'Kay, let's get over the speech," he grumbled after taking a sip of water from his straw flask, as these exercises tended to dry the mouth.

At least, it was what I'd found doing them with him.

"No, we won't do this today," I replied, watching his lips stretch more than they had during the past 30 minutes.

Something else I'd learned: there was nothing like surprise, relief, and joy for his muscles to relax naturally.

However, other instinctive emotions, like anger, could have the opposite effects.

"I was thinking of something else. Maybe... if you want?"

Although we'd agreed to leave the Monday argument behind after both pronouncing 'sorry' at the same time, the AI voice still echoed in the back of my mind like a cold whisper of doubt.

"We could read for the story time without the tablet."

Although he'd been more open and motivated in the past days with me, his closed-off attitude from Sunday still clogged my throat as his half-smile tumbled down, and I swallowed nervously.

"You know how Munisa came back today at the clinic? So I thought we could surprise her and read her book, kinda like a play. This way, even if you mess up a few words, the kids already know the story, and it could be fun for them," I explained, my eyes searching over his face for any new sign of tension.

But strangely, there wasn't much as he shrugged. "No."

"No?"

"Don't wanna trauwatize the kids."

"Traumatize them?" I repeated, still unsure where we were going with this, if this was an excuse, or if he was being serious.

Anyway, my stomach was already churning in preparation for another U-turn in the Asher roller coaster as I continued, and his shoulders tensed.

"You didn't traumatize them when you talked the other day."

It wasn't the drop I'd expected, though, when his gaze lowered to his tablet, and all of me followed again.

"Hearing me talking for an hour is different, and it's their special moment. I don't want to spoil this story for them because I may sound like a frog, but my voice will never fit for a prince charming, or even any ordinary human being."

"Since when does Asher Rohan care about being ordinary?" I tried to keep the question light, lifting an eyebrow when my stomach had already plummeted like a ton in the opposite direction.

"Since he talks like t-that," he mumbled with a gesture of his hand to prove his point, though the words were clear, and I could even catch the underlying annoyance in his tone.

"That's why we're training his speech, and don't you hear it's getting better?"

"His speech, yeah. Not his—my voice." He cleared his throat, as if needing to remind himself whom we were talking about. "The physio won't change the tone from b'yond the g-grave. I'll never get back my voice, and... Ne-er mind. It's no use talking 'bout it."

It was. I minded. I minded the flickers of his gaze between his right leg, his tablet screen that had now turned black, and the old photos of us on the wall, yet never towards me. I minded that this was the longest sentence I'd heard him pronounce so far. I minded each rib tensing around my chest like the clench of his jaw holding more words.

I always minded.

"Okay, it's not your old voice, but boys already change voice at puberty, and personally, I'm getting used to this lower, gravelly voice."

Maybe a little beyond the grave, yes, but while he'd used the image with disdain, I saw it differently after three years and a half of believing I would never hear it again.

Every slurred syllable, every raspy curse word, every crack, anything that came out of his moving lips was a beautiful reminder that he was alive.

"I think it fits your character more than the toneless, ordinary AI voice, and more than... I don't know... Imagine the operation gave you a chipmunk voice instead."

"A chi'munk voice?" he asked, the rest of the question written in his clear eyes as he peered at me from under a cocked eyebrow.

Where had I gotten this comparison idea?

I didn't know either, but I continued anyway, as I had his attention.

"Yes, imagine when I take your tablet for exercises and you're complaining and grumbling. It could be fun... Argh, it's ucking useless!" I pulled out my best squeaky voice, soon getting covered by his rumble of laughter.

"See, this laugh sounds much better." Deep, raspy, like smoke erupting from cracks of a vibrant fire, of life. "You could even try voicing audio books or things like this. Smoky tones have these vibrations that make most girls weak in the knees, and I'm sure you could make a lot of money."

"Oh, so my voice makes you weak 'n the knees?"

Of course, out of all the things I'd said, he caught this in his impish smirk.

"I said 'most girls'. I'm not most girls." Because for me, a sideway look from these penetrating jade eyes was enough to send vibrations along my nerves, and I straightened on my seat as he slowly turned them to me.

"That's why you always ask me to train my sf-eech?"

"No, I'm just trying to hel—assist the doctors," I corrected myself, although he was too focused on creating static through my nervous system to care about my slip.

"C'mon, you can tell me."

"I... yes!" I breathed out as three knocks thankfully echoed against the door at this instant. "It's open!"

"Hey, I hope we're not interrupting?" Carol walked in, her twinkling glance between Asher and I making me take in the little distance between us.

We hadn't moved much since the PT exercises, except it was obvious we'd finished as the rolling table with the instruction and record papers had rolled away, and Asher's eyes were bright.

"No, no, not at all. You're just in time." I quickly stood up, my steps staggering—because I was shaking my head at the same time, and not for the reason that made Asher cock an amused eyebrow—as I joined the nurse and the young woman in the wheelchair behind her that I hadn't noticed yet. "Oh, you must be Sarah?"

I'd heard enough about her to recognize that the beautiful almond-eyed girl hiding behind her black bangs and large metal tee-shirt was the one Caleb was crazy about, even before Carol introduced us.

"Yes, she kindly accepted to read one of the side characters, and here is Althea, our princess." The nurse pulled a tiara out of a cloth bag, where I glimpsed a black cape, cuddly toys, and a frog hat, along with something that jingled at the bottom.

Oliver had told me the other day that she was a magician, and seeing she had gathered all of these in a few hours and even convinced Sarah to come out of her room, I started to believe it too.

"I'll play the evil fairy, Oliver, the king, and Ash—"

"I see you've got everything planned already."

Even magic had its limits, however, and the AI voice quickly brought me back to reality.

"No, we... I just suggested it and—"

"Too bad I'm not reading with my smoky voice."

My arguments were useless against the machine reciting steadily the words Asher had already typed. Though his gaze was even more unwavering, diving into mine as he finished with his own voice,

"Unless you answer my question."

This was blackmail, and he was enjoying it too much as everything fell on my shoulders: the special story time, the preparations Carol had done, and also she and Sarah's inquisitive eyebrows as they wondered what they had missed here.

Well, I wasn't sure myself how we'd ended up here. One second, I'd been holding my breath, watching his hollow eyes avoiding me as he'd explained he hated his new voice, and the next, he snatched me a gasp, his reflection long forgotten as he stared at me with a lopsided smile too full of himself.

No, in fact, the real mystery was: how could I get myself out of this?

Replying 'no' was surely the simplest to take down his smirk and still make him use his voice. Yet nothing was simple in front of these penetrating green eyes, and because of them too, admitting 'yes' was even less conceivable.

Thus, there was only one possibility.

"Or you could do it, and see the answer for yourself," I retorted, finding myself mirroring him again from the other side of the room as up, he lifted an eyebrow. Down, his gaze trailed until my knees. Forward, his chin pointed. A dip to the right, his head took, and then, to the left...

In this instant, it was as clear as his smoldering jade eyes that he hadn't changed. Asher Rohan still never backed away from a challenge.

So he did it. He read with his smoky voice, and never had he been so careful about his pronunciation. Never had he used his movements so much to fit the character. Never had croaks sounded so husky.

Though, no one seemed to notice the latter. The kids were captivated by the story coming to life before their shining eyes, and the adults were fully involved in their roles.

When I'd suggested this idea to Carol, I'd only imagined they would help us read to replace the various AI voices Asher generally used on his tablet, not that they would take it as seriously as a real play. Too seriously.

And once Oliver had improvised a few dance steps; Carol had performed a small magic trick; Sarah had pulled a perfect snobby accent, and even Asher had enacted a one-handed fight against a cuddly toy, everyone was waiting for a grand finale, for the grand finale.

I couldn't avoid it, especially when Asher passed me the cue, and I didn't know what weighed more: the open book he swiftly dropped onto my lap with that four-letter word my gaze seemed magnetized to, or all the gasping attention as he 'fell unconscious'.

He was talented at this, and with his head tilted to the side and his tongue hanging from the corner of his mouth, he could have even convinced me as a knocked-out frog—if his piercing eyes hadn't been peeking from under his green sunhat and weighing a little bit more on my chest.

Well, at least, I didn't have to fake the breathlessness of my voice as I read my line under his attentive gaze.

"No, no! I'm sorry. Stay with me. I love you as you are. Please, don't leave me..."

He too was waiting for the grand finale.

Although I doubted he was expecting I would really do it.

I didn't expect it myself as I inhaled a deep breath, and the rest was all instinctive: my body leaning in closer to his chair, my hand reaching up his neck, my eyes closing at the first tickle of touch against my lips, and even his shallow sigh, and his body's reply in a flutter of movement under my mouth, as I slid off his hat and kissed his left cheek.

The magical kiss that broke the prince's curse. It was what the tale described, right?

"No! S'not a mayical kisss!"

Then, why did my heart jump as high as if a spell had been broken at the small voice, and even once I pulled away, the twitch of his zygomaticus still tickled me beyond my lips?

Though if I could assure this to the quiet whisper inside, I needed other arguments for the pair of brown eyes staring at me under a deep frown.

"Yes, it is. Look, he doesn't have his frog hat anymore." And his green eyes even appeared wider and more dazzling.

"On the cheek s'not 'nough. It's on the mouth. See here." Munisa rolled her wheelchair towards me, grabbing the book that had fallen on the floor at some point of the magical kiss and handling it with an incredible determination as she searched for the page. "On the mouth."

"Indeed, I see it too," Oliver spoke, stopping my heart a second time as he peered over my shoulder at the explicit cartoon picture Munisa's tiny finger was tapping.

Well, as 'explicit' as a children's book could be; it was only a princess kissing a frog on the lips. Only one kiss, but it was enough to send the blood pumping faster, especially up my neck.

"I... It works on the cheek too." I averted my eyes away in the hope of finding more arguments or some support, yet no matter how much I was rolling them together, there was only the same tickle on my lips, and no one to help me around.

"Sorry, sweetie, but magical kisses are always on the mouth, and I know what I'm talking about as the evil fairy," Carol noted, her devious smile appearing a little too real.

I was the only one frozen, though, as Munisa nodded, giggling a 'gotta kisss!', and soon, all the kids were cheering with 'kiss, kiss, kiss!', the chants racing with the thumps of my heart, faster and faster as I turned to my frog.

In all of this, he had been exceptionally silent, at least until I met his blazing gaze, and he uttered one word, low enough to be drowned under the excited shouts around yet raspy enough to make my knees weak,

"Croak."

CLIFFHANGER!!! 😱😬🙈

Please don't hate me, but did you really expect we would get that kiss so easily? Besides, I know you need time to prepare and be fully seated for this kiss... 😉

In the meantime, tell me all your thoughts about this chapter: Asher's insecurities, but also his cocky moments, and all the sparking tension between our two lovebirds!!! And if this chapter made you weak in the knees, don't forget to vote ⭐!

I love you my little peaches, and since I'm not sure the next chapter will be ready until next year (which is only 10 days away 😉), I tell you Happy Holidays! ✨ Stay on the lookout for some surprises from your naughty elf (aka me 😅).