The explosion had sacrificed not only his leg, his mental health...but also his hearing. The concussion was somehow managed with therapy, and his leg was replaced with a prosthetic leg that he could walk on. All this, of course, was slow and painful, but gradually brought him back to normal life, then the loss of hearing he perceived very hard. No consolation that he was still undergoing tests and that he might be able to wear a hearing aid did not work.

gradually tried to come to terms with his situation, but living in complete silence was maddening. Pen and notepads appeared everywhere in the house. All his attempts to read lips led sometimes to very stupid situations, from which he got irritated and it spoiled his mood for the whole day. But probably what Alex still couldn't get over was not being able to hear your voice. Perhaps if he had the opportunity, he would give his other leg, just to hear you, your silly jokes, your loud and ringing laughter, the simplest "Good morning" or "Good night". Only one loophole was left that would at least somehow enjoy your favorite goal...

As usual in the evening, coming out of the shower, he walked to the bed, took off his prosthesis. Stretched out next to you on the bed, and then began to lower his head, resting it against your chest. "Sing me something...," the man muttered tiredly. If he couldn't hear you, at least he was enjoying the vibrations of your voice. Sometimes this nightly ritual devolved into a little game. As he tried to guess the song from the vibrations and timbre of the voice that trembled in his chest and throat