Ocean Kisses

Rest

Ren pov

Doc was honestly a beautiful, beautiful creature. His goat and hybrid features, combined with the gentle strength of his form, made him mesmerizing. The way his horns curved gracefully, his mechanical arm, and his presence—everything about him struck me as a work of art. I wanted to take him underwater, hide him amongst the precious gems that decorated my secret lair, and keep him close, safe, just for me. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t drown him, and I certainly couldn’t separate him from his son. That would never be right.

As Doc and Doccy emerged from the water, I stretched out against the rocks, letting the cool, damp air settle against my skin. Swimming was easy for me, as fluid as walking on land for others, though walking felt like a constant struggle, like a thousand sharp pains shooting through my legs with every step. But underwater... that was where I felt free, weightless. The calm of the water always settled me, and I was grateful for it. Still, I was tired from the session, and so, like any surface dweller, I needed a break.

I lay back on my arms, letting the sounds of the sanctuary fill the space around me. The rushing water from the tide pool, the soft echoing of the cavern, and the quiet murmurs of the two of them talking softly were comforting. I almost didn’t notice when they came over, sitting down on the rock beside me. Doc’s usual composed demeanor was relaxed in the peaceful cave, and Doccy’s innocent chatter filled the quiet spaces between our thoughts.

"I like it here," Doccy was saying, his voice soft and full of wonder. "It’s peaceful."

Doc smiled at him, his eyes glinting with affection. "Yeah, it’s nice. A good place for us, huh?"

I could hear the fondness in his voice, and it made me feel like I’d done something right by bringing them here. It was a place of comfort, of safety—a sanctuary that was mine to protect, and it felt even more complete now that I had them with me.

Doc’s voice dropped lower, barely more than a murmur. "I’m glad you like it, kid. It’s not always easy... but it’s worth it."

Doccy nodded, a smile on his face, but there was something deeper in his eyes. He was thinking, his young mind processing the world around him, even if it didn’t always make sense. The quiet buzz of the cave mixed with the gentle sound of his feet shifting on the rock.

I closed my eyes, letting the moment settle, feeling the weight of everything, of the peace I’d found, the people I had come to care for. I couldn’t help but feel protective of them both, even Doc, who was more than capable of taking care of himself. I had this strange, possessive urge to keep them safe, keep them here, away from the world that could tear them apart.

"We’ll stay here, together, for as long as you want," I said, my voice barely louder than the wind flowing through the cavern. My words were a promise—a quiet, yet deep vow.

Doc nodded slowly, his gaze drifting to the entrance of the sanctuary, where the outside world waited, always there but never able to touch us in this place.

"I think that sounds perfect." His voice, soft and sincere, wrapped around me like a comforting blanket.

Doccy looked up at me, his small hand reaching out to place the stone he’d found earlier into my palm. It was a gesture, a silent offering. A gift from him, and from them, telling me that they were here too—that they were mine to protect as much as I was theirs.

It was moments like this that made everything worth it—the simple, quiet connection, the unspoken bond. And in that moment, I knew we were exactly where we were supposed to be.

Over the next few months, life had a way of pulling us in different directions. I had to separate from Doc for a while, something that I didn’t want but had no choice in. The coral reef that I had been caring for needed constant attention. The underwater world was delicate, and if it wasn’t properly maintained, the balance of the ecosystem could collapse. I had to be there, monitoring the currents, tending to the plants, and ensuring the coral stayed alive. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, one that required more of my time and focus than I liked to admit.

Meanwhile, Doc had to take care of his son. They had to adjust to life on land, and that included finding a proper school for Doccy. The kid didn’t seem happy about it at all. I could see it in his eyes whenever I caught glimpses of them—reluctance, confusion, and maybe even fear of the world he was being forced to adapt to. I knew how it felt to be out of place, to be torn between two worlds. It wasn’t easy for either of them, and while Doc was doing his best, I could tell he missed the sanctuary as much as I did.

I missed them both more than I thought I would, more than I was ready to admit. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d come to depend on Doc’s presence, or how much I’d grown to care for the way he was with his son. The moments we shared, whether it was in the quiet calm of the cave or just the simple act of watching over the water together, had left an imprint on me. Doc had become more than just a companion; he’d become a part of my life, something I never expected but was now reluctant to let go of.

And then there was Doccy. The kid had a way of making everything feel more grounded, more real. His wide-eyed wonder and innocence reminded me of the simpler things in life, the things I had long forgotten. I found myself missing those moments too—the way he asked questions, the way he looked at everything with such curiosity. I hadn’t realized how much I had grown attached to them until I was separated from them, until the silence of the sanctuary felt more like an emptiness than a peace.

But us merfolk, we had our duties, our work that kept us tethered to the depths of the sea. The balance of the ocean was fragile, and we couldn’t afford to ignore it. The coral needed me. The creatures of the sea needed me. And as much as I longed for the comfort of the surface and the warmth of their company, I knew that my responsibilities came first.

Still, there were nights when I would find myself drifting into the sanctuary’s waters, wondering how Doc and Doccy were doing, and if they were finding their place in the world. And no matter how much I told myself that the ocean was where I belonged, a part of me couldn’t help but feel like something was missing, like the surface world held something precious that I was being kept away from.

Some nights, I would lay down on the sand, the grains cool against my skin, and stare up at the rippling surface of the water. The way the light filtered through, casting dancing patterns on the ocean floor, was mesmerizing. It was beautiful, calming even. But as I gazed up, a familiar longing tugged at my chest.

I missed his bed. It was warm, inviting, a comfort I couldn’t replicate here on the seafloor. Yes, I could keep myself warm, adapting to the cold currents of the ocean, but it wasn’t the same. There was something uniquely different about the warmth that came from being close to someone, from having the soft press of blankets or the gentle rise and fall of their breathing beside you. The seafloor might have been home, but it felt colder now—colder without Doc’s presence, without the quiet peace we shared in the sanctuary.

I missed him, more than I wanted to admit. The nights felt longer without him beside me, and even though the sea surrounded me, it felt empty. The sounds of the ocean, the soft hum of underwater currents, became reminders of the quiet spaces between us. It wasn’t that I couldn’t survive without him—merfolk were resilient, after all—but I had come to realize that I didn’t want to.

The sanctuary was still beautiful, but it had lost some of its magic without Doc by my side. The memories of us together lingered in the water, like whispers in the waves. I could almost hear his laughter in the rush of the currents, see his son’s wide eyes in the shimmer of the tide pools. And even though I knew I had responsibilities here, a part of me couldn’t help but wonder when I’d be able to leave this cold, silent ocean and return to the warmth I had found on the surface.