Ocean Kisses

Rescued

Tango pov

Unfortunately, that dream of exploring the depths with him never became a reality. It all happened so quickly—the rescuers arrived, drawn by the signal from the plane’s black box. I had hoped for more time, more stories, but reality didn’t wait for me. He was in the water when they came, his figure just barely visible against the waves.

Our eyes met for what felt like a lifetime compressed into a single heartbeat. I could see the sadness in his brilliant purple eyes, the way his shoulders slumped as if he already knew this was the end of our strange little adventure. Slowly, almost as though he didn’t want me to notice, he began sinking back into the water. The sight hit me like a punch to the chest. I couldn’t just leave him behind.

I shouted to the rescuers, my voice cracking with urgency. “Wait! There’s another survivor! By the water!”

For a moment, I thought maybe it was pointless, that he would disappear beneath the surface for good. But he heard me. He must have. He resurfaced, his movements hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure if I truly meant it.

I waved to him, trying to encourage him to come closer. “It’s okay! Just come here!”

He hesitated, glancing between me and the water as though torn between his world and mine. Then, with a deep breath, he shifted back into his humanoid form. The change was quick but seamless, his ram-like horns and fins fading into more human-like features. His wet hair clung to his face as he cautiously approached the rescuers.

The crew looked stunned but didn’t question it. “Another survivor?” one of them murmured, but they didn’t argue. They helped him aboard, though I could tell from his wide eyes and stiff movements that he was completely out of his element.

I reached for his hand as soon as he was close enough, gripping it tightly. “You’re not staying behind,” I said firmly, locking eyes with him.

He looked at me, a mixture of gratitude and fear crossing his face. “You really… You really didn’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“Of course not,” I replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re part of this now. We’ll figure it out together.”

As the boat pulled away, I glanced back at the ocean, the waves lapping gently as if bidding him farewell. I didn’t know what the future held for him—or for me—but I knew one thing for sure. I wasn’t letting him face it alone.

As the rescuers processed everything, they began checking the plane’s roster, cross-referencing names and seats. It wasn’t long before one of them approached us, clipboard in hand, a skeptical expression on their face.

“You said he was sitting next to you?” the rescuer asked, glancing at my new companion with a raised eyebrow.

I nodded quickly, trying to make it sound as convincing as possible. “Yeah, he was right next to me when the crash happened. Somehow we both made it out.”

The rescuer flipped through the manifest, scanning the names before looking up again. “The seat next to yours is listed as belonging to… Doctor Zedaph. Is that you?”

My companion froze, his eyes widening in confusion and a bit of alarm. I could feel his panic rising, so I quickly jumped in. “Yep, that’s him!” I said with forced confidence.

He turned to me, a hint of bewilderment in his expression, but he didn’t contradict me. I gave him a subtle nod, and he seemed to understand. Slowly, he nodded too, his lips parting as if to say something, but no words came out.

The rescuer glanced between the two of us, still skeptical but clearly too exhausted to dig deeper. “Alright, Doctor Zedaph,” they said, jotting down a note. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Yeah, real lucky,” I said with a weak smile, patting him on the back as the rescuer walked away.

Once we were alone, he leaned in close, whispering so only I could hear. “Doctor Zedaph?”

“Well, you didn’t exactly have a name,” I whispered back with a shrug. “And you don’t really look like a Kevin or a Greg.”

He tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “Zedaph…” he murmured, as if testing how it felt on his tongue. A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I guess that’s me now?”

“Guess so,” I said, smirking. “Doctor Zedaph. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

He chuckled softly, his nervous energy easing a bit. “Yeah. I think I like it.”

From that moment on, he carried the name with a quiet pride, as though it gave him a piece of himself he hadn’t known he was missing. And in a strange way, it felt right—as though, despite everything, fate had given him a name just as unique as those brilliant purple eyes.

The ship was a small relief, its steady rocking and hum of engines offering a strange sense of stability after the chaos of the crash. We were given a room below deck without much resistance, and despite the cramped quarters, neither of us minded. There was a certain comfort in being together, after everything we'd been through, though I could tell that Zedaph was still adjusting to his new surroundings.

As I settled into the room, the coolness of the ship's interior contrasted sharply with the warmth that seemed to radiate from me. It was a familiar feeling, one I had come to accept over time—my Blaze powers always kept me a little too warm for most people's comfort. But Zedaph, to my surprise, seemed to thrive in it.

He sat across from me on the small cot, his eyes fixed on me as I pulled out my gear to make myself comfortable for the night. “You’re so warm,” he murmured, almost in awe.

I raised an eyebrow, glancing over at him. “Yeah, I know. It’s kind of hard to avoid.”

He tilted his head, his gaze thoughtful. “It’s... nice, though.” He paused, then added, almost as if to himself, “You remind me of a volcanic underground sauna.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “A sauna, huh?”

Zedaph nodded, his expression almost dreamy, as if the idea of heat was the most comforting thing in the world to him. “Yeah. Like, everything about you feels like that warm, deep heat. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s soothing."

I watched as he settled in a little more comfortably, his body leaning ever so slightly toward me, almost as if he couldn't quite get enough of the warmth I was radiating. “It’s not the worst comparison,” I said with a smile. “But you seem to really like it.”

He gave a soft, contented hum, his body practically purring in the way he relaxed into the warmth. It was a strange, almost endearing sound, and it made me realize just how much he had been through, how much he needed this comfort. The idea of him being at ease in my presence, of being the source of that calm, gave me a feeling I hadn’t expected—a sense of purpose, maybe.

“You don’t mind if I stay close, right?” Zedaph asked, his voice quieter now, almost unsure.

I shook my head, smiling softly. “Of course not. You’re not going anywhere, Doctor Zedaph.”

He relaxed even more at that, curling up slightly, his horns brushing the side of the cot. “Thank you,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, as he drifted off to sleep with a gentle, almost peaceful purr vibrating softly from his chest.

As I lay there in the dim room, listening to the sound of his steady breathing and the occasional hum of contentment, I realized that no matter what strange twist of fate had brought us together, I was glad to have him by my side. I wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time in a long while, I felt like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.