Ocean Kisses

Angry Sheep

Tango's POV:

I couldn’t shake the heavy feeling in my chest as I watched Zed slump against the back seat. The way he clung to his discomfort, his longing for the ocean—it tugged at something deep inside me. I wanted to help him so badly, to ease the ache of homesickness in any way I could. But the idea of letting him go, even if it was what he needed, left a knot in my stomach that I couldn’t untangle.

I stole a glance back at him. He was fiddling with one of the new shoes we’d gotten, his expression a mixture of frustration and resignation. The poor guy clearly despised them, even if he understood the necessity. “Stupid things,” he grumbled, twisting the shoe in his hands as though it had personally offended him.

“They’re not that bad, are they?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“They trap my feet,” he replied, his tone laced with disdain. “It’s like I can’t feel the ground properly. Everything about this world is... wrong.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I tried to find the right words. “I get it, Zed. It’s all new and weird, and it feels like nothing makes sense. But we’re here to help you. We’ll figure out what works for you, okay? And if that means ditching the shoes when we’re not walking on slippery floors, so be it.”

He looked up at me, his eyes softening slightly. “You mean it?”

“Of course,” I said with a grin. “But you gotta promise me something in return.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t give up on trying. I know it’s hard, and I know it sucks right now, but this world... it’s not all bad. There’s a lot of beauty here too, and I want to help you see that. Deal?”

For a moment, Zed was quiet, his gaze dropping back to the shoe in his hands. Then he nodded, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Deal.”

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a start. I knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but if it meant helping Zed find his footing—literally and figuratively—I was willing to do whatever it took. Even if it hurt to think about letting him return to the ocean one day, I’d make sure he knew he had a place here too. Somewhere he could feel safe, cared for, and maybe even happy.

The second we got back to the apartment, Zed practically bolted to the couch after ripping those shoes off his feet. He tossed them aside like they were the bane of his existence and flopped down with a dramatic sigh. Before I could even fully process it, I was yanked down next to him, his arms wrapping tightly around me like some kind of oversized, aquatic teddy bear.

"Well, hello to you too," I chuckled, though I didn’t really mind. It was rare to see Zed this openly affectionate, and honestly, it was kind of adorable.

Apparently, my predicament signaled an open invitation because Impulse and Skizz soon joined in, effectively creating a pile of limbs and warmth. Impulse leaned his head on my shoulder, his grin as bright as ever, while Skizz draped a wing over the group like some kind of feathery blanket.

"You’re not going anywhere now," Skizz murmured, his tone teasing but full of comfort.

I rolled my eyes with a laugh. "Wasn’t planning on it."

Zed let out a content hum, his grip on me tightening just slightly. “This is better. No shoes, no noise, just... this.”

"Glad you're comfortable," I said softly, patting his arm. "We’re not going anywhere, you know. We’ve got you."

It felt nice—warm and safe. For a while, we just stayed like that, basking in the quiet closeness. Maybe Zed needed this more than anything: not words or explanations, just the unspoken reassurance that he wasn’t alone. And honestly? I needed it too.