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Love isn't random, we are chosen

Summary:

They are entangled together, laid down on a soft bed in Zedaph's ravine of this season. Tango's wings contentedly buzz ever so often, just a little bit, and he's constantly shifting around within Zed's embrace. Still fidgety with his eyes closed. Sometimes burying further into the sheep hybrid, sometimes curling around himself a bit more.

Zedaph's arms are wrapped around the other, holding him in a semi-tight, protective hold, his wooly legs tangled with Tango's thin, bee-ified ones. His breathing is soft and he takes in the almost-surprisingly-flowery scent of Tango's hair with every inhale he takes. It soothes him, both what he feels and what he smells.

The world goes on around them.

{Zedaph and Tango are together. It isn't much, but it always is.}

Notes:

The free day! AKA, our goodbye. At least for Zedango Week ^^

I did decide to skip day six, but I hope you enjoy this short finale :J

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Tango's dark antennae twitch in his sleep, the tips brushing against Zedaph's cheek. Tickling the skin. Zed's nose scrunches in sleepy reaction and he shifts around, taking the bee with him as he rolls onto his back.

They are entangled together, laid down on a soft bed in Zedaph's ravine of this season. Tango's wings contentedly buzz ever so often, just a little bit, and he's constantly shifting around within Zed's embrace. Still fidgety with his eyes closed. Sometimes burying further into the sheep hybrid, sometimes curling around himself a bit more.

Zedaph's arms are wrapped around the other, holding him in a semi-tight, protective hold, his wooly legs tangled with Tango's thin, bee-ified ones. His breathing is soft and he takes in the almost-surprisingly-flowery scent of Tango's hair with every inhale he takes. It soothes him, both what he feels and what he smells. 

The world goes on around them.

Maybe Pearl is awake, because being up at later hours has always been her thing. Or Mumbo, or Xisuma. Tango's factory is full of Teknicians, far away from them, the small robots happy to travel inside the large building and work in Tango's absence. The moon—a normal sized one—slowly travels across the sky, stars twinkling around it. Joel's and Impulse's cities shine so bright with their lights in the night, Doc's hourglass towers in the shopping district, sand falling, BDubs' glass waterfalls glisten and lure nighttime animals with their reflection.

The world turns, because it always is.

Tango is fast asleep, fluffy, dangerous stinger dormant and draped over them, his furs calm and safe with no gloves or boots, in Zed's presence. He isn't too cold in the stone walls and caves of Zedaph's ravine. Zedaph is enough to keep him warm, him and his wool and thick blankets.

Zedaph has no plan to wake any time soon either. His slightly curling horns press into the pillow his head lays on, and his ears flick every now and then, like the other's antennae, reacting with even small sounds. Tango is a weight against him, on top of him, beside him. It's comfortable, for them both. He knows. 

They sleep, because the not-big moon is full and bright and safe. Because the world is allowing a gentle night to take place tonight. Because even all the games and redstone machines in Zed's ravine are quiet, all the hostile mobs far. Because the stars are looking over them, admiring their love and telling whoever looks up to see their sparkle of their compliments to the two. Because they can feel each other, the familiar skin and clothes and breaths and hybridities.

They rest, with each other, because it's right.

It is always right with these two. In all of their worlds, they are drawn to each other. They laugh together, they smile at each other, their hearts connect, their eyes meet. Even if they are different. 

Even when Tango is a flaming thing. Even when Zed is a dark, brooding character. Even when Tango can fly and fiercely protect. Even when Zed is afraid for the other, or it's the other way around. Even when things are different than what is theirs

So they sleep, on Hermitcraft Season 10—and maybe in many other places too. Minds not running for ideas, hearts and breaths in a slow, synchronized beat. 

And when their eyes open the coming morning, at whatever time, and Zedaph's bright, violet-purple eyes meet Tango's warm, rose-red ones, they'll smile.

Because they know.

They know there isn't anything better than the comfort they have with each other. Nothing better than what they share.

And their days will continue, on and on and on and on. And maybe they'll meet again at night, each night, each and every night.

And maybe this very feeling, this kind of night, will repeat.

But for now, this Zedaph and Tango sleep. Warm in each other's presence, in this world, on this amazing server.

They sleep.

Together. Always.

Notes:

It has been wonderful, if this is the first of my zedango week works you are reading– thank you so much for reading! If you've read more, then thank you so much for reading and sticking around for the days.
Kudos and comments make my day, and I'm always available on tumblr at yayaza-b33 for any hellos or questions!