Indian expedition (Patreon)

— "You’ve got to be kidding me, buddy," — Dr. Alex Markson threw out with an unconvincing smirk, staring at the local man in front of him. — "I’m not staying here," — he added more quietly, as if speaking to himself.

— "Asha," — Deepak repeated softly, looking at her with disbelief. — "You’re saying strange things. I get that something happened, but why lie? We all know you."

Alex, who had woken up that morning in Asha’s body due to the curse of a magical artifact he and his expedition team had discovered, tensed up. He realized he’d already drawn too much attention with his odd behavior. From the start, he had told everyone who he really was, and now, while his team was studying the artifact, he decided to make the most of the situation, taking advantage of Asha’s knowledge of the local language... or rather, trading it for his English.

— "Listen, um... Deepak, right?" — Alex tried a gentler approach, though inside he was boiling with frustration. — "I know this sounds like complete nonsense. But you have to understand... I’m not Asha. I’m Dr. Alex Markson. This body... it’s not mine," — he attempted a smile, feeling the tension tighten his shoulders. — "Look, maybe you could tell me more about the local culture?"

— "You... want to know about our culture?" — Deepak asked, clearly not understanding the direction of this conversation. — "Asha, what kind of strange questions are these? You grew up here, you know everything about us. You’ve always been curious, but now you’re talking like a stranger."

Alex stifled a sigh. Deepak was right. Asha’s body should know all about the local customs. And then it hit him.

— "Asha’s body..." — He closed his eyes, trying to tap into her knowledge, and suddenly, vivid images flashed in his mind like his own memories.

He saw the village before him, the narrow streets, familiar faces, felt the warmth of the fire on cold evenings, heard the laughter of neighbors and elders, and even sensed the strange mix of responsibility and freedom that Asha must have felt in her own body. In these visions, he could even make out the touch of woolen fabrics and the smell of spicy herbs.

'Damn it... her memories,' he thought, struggling to process the onslaught of images. 'This... this is real.'

— "Asha?" — Deepak’s voice sounded muffled, like it was coming through water. Alex blinked, snapping back to reality. Deepak was watching him with concern.

Alex raised his gaze, recalling everything Asha knew about Deepak — that he was her husband. He remembered their first kiss, what Asha had felt, and many other intimate moments from their relationship. The conflicting feelings of revulsion from his male consciousness, mixed with Asha’s pleasant memories, overwhelmed him.

His stomach churned. The disgust was so intense that, for a moment, he lost track of the world around him. He quickly turned away from Deepak, trying to hide his reaction. Asha’s memories flooded him with such force that they became indistinguishable from his own, and that scared him more than anything.

— "I... I need to leave," — Alex blurted out, feeling his voice tremble. He took a step back, trying to distance himself from Deepak, though a part of him wanted to reach out and embrace him, feeling how scared he was.

— "I won’t let you go to those strangers!" — Deepak’s voice was louder this time. Alex flinched as Deepak grabbed his hand.

— "Let go of me," — Alex gasped, feeling panic rising within him. — "I’m not Asha, I’m... ugh, I... what was my name?! Damn it, I need to get back to those strangers! No, I mean to... to... to them! You don’t understand, my love, I’m not..." — Alex’s eyes widened in fear, his face resembling a kitten begging for food.

— "Yes, I’m here, and I love you, which is why we’re going home. You’re my wife, and I have the right to this," — Deepak said, pulling Alex along with him, who barely resisted. Inside, Alex knew this was wrong, but at the same time, it felt like Deepak was right, and he should go with him, do something around the house, prepare dinner, and tidy up the scattered things. These thoughts were so foreign to Alex’s male consciousness that he physically felt them suppressing his will.

— "No..." — Alex whispered, but he was already calmly walking behind Deepak, not even trying to pull his hand away. On the contrary, he wanted to lean in closer to this man, to hug him and apologize. But inside, his male mind was screaming in terror. — "I’m not..." — The memories continued to flood his mind like a river, and he regretted opening this Pandora’s box just a few minutes earlier.

— "Asha, you know how much I care about you," — Deepak spoke softly but with an unyielding tone. — "Let’s go home. You’ll make dinner, as always, and then we’ll talk everything through," — his voice was calm, as if nothing about the situation seemed strange to him.

Alex already knew what awaited them at home: a small clay-walled hut, a simple kitchen, and the meal he would prepare for Deepak — his favorite rice with vegetables and spices, which Asha knew how to gather and cook to perfection. All these details seemed to rise from his memory, and it terrified him to the core.