Ocean Kisses

Cold

Doc pov:

I’ve always loved the beach, especially in the summer when the sand felt warm and soft beneath my feet, like a cozy blanket inviting me to stay. There’s something about the salty air and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore that always brought a sense of peace. The warmth of the sun would sink into my skin, making me feel grounded, content, as though the world had slowed down just for me.

Even in the winter, when the air was crisp and cold, I couldn’t stay away. I’d brave the chill, wrapping myself in thick layers just to walk along the shore. It was a different kind of beauty then—quiet, serene, with the sky painted in shades of gray and the waves still rolling in rhythm, but with a sharp, frosty edge.

One winter, while trying to avoid the biting wind, I stumbled across something unexpected. It was a little cave, hidden just off the main beach. Getting to it was tricky, especially since the path to it was narrow and dangerously close to the edge of a steep cliff. I had to be careful with every step, my heart racing as I edged closer, but the reward was worth it. The cave had a large, welcoming opening, and inside, it was like a secret world. It felt so private, so far removed from everything else.

At the bottom, I discovered a shallow pool of water. The water’s surface shimmered under the glow of the skylight above—an opening in the cave’s ceiling that let in soft beams of light. From this vantage point, I could see all the way down to the bottom of the pool, where the water was so clear it almost felt like I could reach out and touch the very depths. It wasn’t truly shallow, of course—it was deep, but it looked deceptively calm and inviting.

Sometimes, I’d dip my feet into the water, feeling the coolness seep up through my toes, washing away the weariness of the day. The water always felt fresh, like it had a life of its own, flowing endlessly beneath the surface. I loved the peaceful quiet, broken only by the soft lapping of the waves against the rocks and the occasional call of a seabird far away.

Some nights, I’d come back, spending hours just sitting on the rocky ledge, fishing or swimming. I loved the solitude. It was my sanctuary, a place where time seemed to slow down. The calmness of the pool and the ethereal light filtering through the skylight gave the entire cave a mystical, almost magical atmosphere. I would lose myself in the serenity, letting my thoughts drift with the current, and every time I left, I felt more connected to the place, like it was a part of me, and I of it.

The cave, with its clear water and soft glow from the skylight above, was teeming with life. Beneath the surface, the underwater world was lush and vibrant—coral-like rocks, swaying plants, and an array of small creatures darting about. Little fish and minnows swam in tight, playful circles, their bright scales catching the light as they chased each other in games only they could understand. It was like a hidden sanctuary, untouched by the outside world, a place where the creatures of the sea could live in peace. The water was so clear, so pure, it felt as if it was all part of something much bigger than myself.

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe as I watched it all—sometimes sitting on the rocks for hours, my feet dipped in the cool water, simply watching the dance of the fish and the gentle sway of the underwater plants. It became my refuge, my escape. It felt like home, a magical world all its own, where time didn’t matter and I could just be. I didn’t want to disturb anything in that fragile balance, so I kept my distance, careful not to cause any harm. The harmony of it all was too beautiful, too perfect to interfere with.

But one night, as I was sitting by the water, the familiar peacefulness of the cave was interrupted by something that made my heart skip a beat. A large shadow appeared at the bottom of the pool, moving with a slow, deliberate grace. It was unlike anything I had seen before. It was humish in shape—too large to be one of the little minnows or the usual fish I watched swim by. At first, I thought it was just a trick of the light, or my eyes playing tricks on me in the dim glow of the skylight. But no, this shadow wasn’t a trick. It moved upward, closer to the surface, as if it was coming straight toward me.

Instinctively, a rush of adrenaline hit me, and before I could even process why, I quickly ducked behind a large rock, my heart pounding in my chest. I stayed as still as I could, barely breathing, peering out from behind the stone. The shadow lingered for a moment, just below the surface, before disappearing again into the deeper water. I couldn’t see what it was, but I felt an undeniable sense of unease, as if something unfamiliar—something I wasn’t meant to understand—had just crossed into my sanctuary.

For the first time, the cave didn’t feel like a safe haven. The water, once so inviting, now felt heavy with mystery. I wasn’t sure what I had seen, or what had seen me, but the chill that crept down my spine told me that this wasn’t something I should ignore.

What surfaced from the depths of the pool, however, caught me completely off guard. At first, I barely made sense of what I was seeing—a figure, rising from the water like something out of a dream. He looked like a man, though his features were unlike any I’d ever seen before. His long, wild hair flowed around him, tangled and untamed, dripping water in every direction as he hoisted himself up out of the pool with an effortless grace. His eyes—oh, those eyes—were mesmerizing. They gleamed with an almost otherworldly glow, hypnotic and deep, like they held secrets I wasn’t sure I was ready to learn. I couldn't look away, but I also couldn’t quite understand what I was seeing.

What struck me next was that his arms were adorned with fins, as though he had once been part of the ocean. His movements were fluid and powerful, clearly adapted to the water. But as he dragged himself further out of the pool, something even more startling happened. His tail, a massive and beautiful fish tail that had shimmered with the water, began to shift. Slowly, impossibly, it changed shape, shifting into legs—human legs, though a bit different, like they were built to move with the rhythm of the water rather than land. And then, as if it wasn’t enough, the fins that had been on his arms and face—his ears, which had looked so delicate and fluid—transformed too, morphing into something more familiar, but no less remarkable: they became wolf-like ears, pointed and alert, covered in a fine layer of fur.

My heart raced, my mind trying to process what I was witnessing. It was as if he was something between two worlds, caught between the ocean and the land, the beast and the man.

He wasn’t paying attention to me, though, or at least not yet. His clothes, heavy and soaked from the water, clung to his body, and he shivered slightly, though I could tell his appearance wasn’t entirely affected by the cold. His form was strange, yet strangely beautiful—every movement fluid and deliberate, like the sea had shaped him in its image.

To my surprise, he didn’t seem bothered by the cold or the fact that he was in an unfamiliar place. His gaze shifted to the embers I had snuffed out just hours before. The fire, though now mostly spent, still held some warmth in its dying glow. He seemed to sense this, and without hesitation, he moved towards it, his wet clothes making faint, squelching noises against the stone floor. He crouched beside the embers, trying to coax some warmth from the fading fire. His fingers were nimble, despite their coldness, and with a few swift motions, he managed to stir the remains of the fire, causing a small spark to flicker back to life.

For a moment, the cave was quiet again, except for the faint sound of his movements and the soft crackling of the fire. It was as though the cave had returned to its natural state—no longer just my sanctuary, but his as well. I stayed hidden, my heart pounding in my chest, not knowing if I should stay, watch, or leave. This stranger—this mysterious figure—was both a part of the world I knew and yet something completely new. He was a being of the sea, transformed for the land, and in that moment, it felt like the balance of this place had shifted.