Out of Bed, Into Bliss

It was one of those grey, heavy days where everything felt like too much and not enough all at once.

Bumbly lay in bed, cocooned in blankets, the curtains drawn tight. His phone buzzed somewhere on the nightstand—probably Zippy—but he didn’t move. His chest felt tight. Not in a medical way—just… the kind of tight that came from thinking about everything all at once and doing nothing because of it.

His to-do list was long. Messages unread. Laundry not done. Groceries low. His wheelchair battery was barely charged, just like him. “Maybe tomorrow,” he mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head.

Knock knock.

He froze.

Then, the unmistakable bzzzzzz of tiny wings filled the room. A soft rustle of curtains being pushed aside. A beam of late morning sun spilled across the bed.

“Bumbly?” came Zippy’s voice, gentle and sing-song. “You didn’t answer your phone, so I got worried. You okay, snugglepanda?”

He groaned under the covers. “Mmf. Not really. Just wanna stay here. Forever maybe.”

Zippy didn’t speak right away. She landed lightly on the edge of his bed, her feathers glinting in the light. “Is it one of those days?”

He nodded under the blanket.

Zippy exhaled softly. “Okay. Then we’re not doing anything... until you feel better.” She paused. “But I did bring the tiny bottle of eucalyptus oil. And my wing warmers.”

That earned a low chuckle from beneath the blanket. “You and your wing warmers.”

“You love them,” she chirped, smug.

The blanket lifted slightly, and one sleepy eye peeked out. “...Maybe.”

Gently, Zippy fluttered over and settled on his upper back. Her tiny claws barely pressed through the fabric, and her wings fluffed as she warmed them with a soft hum.

“No pressure to move today,” she whispered. “But would you let me help you feel better?”

Bumbly gave a barely-there nod.

Zippy got to work.

Her wings, warm and rhythmic, brushed slow circles along his shoulders. She used her tiny weight to knead gently, starting at his neck and moving down to his arms. She hummed a little tune, light and comforting, like birdsong laced with affection.

She rubbed the eucalyptus oil into his fur—cool and tingly at first, then soothing as it melted into warmth. Her touch was confident but careful, respectful of his boundaries but full of love.

Bumbly let out a long, shaky sigh. His body melted into the bed. The knot in his chest began to loosen.

“I’m glad you came,” he murmured.

“I always will,” she whispered back.

After a while, Zippy leaned close, pressing her tiny beak to his cheek in a soft peck. “Feeling a bit more alive?”

“A little.” He blinked, then cracked a sleepy smile. “Still kinda want to stay in bed… but maybe with you next to me.”

“Oh, snugglepanda,” she teased. “That can be arranged. But—what if we make a deal?”

Bumbly raised an eyebrow.

“I give you one more round of the deluxe massage,” she purred, brushing her feathers along his side, “and then we go make mochi lattes and cuddle up for a movie. I even brought snacks.”

He groaned, but it was a happy groan. “You win. Again.”

Zippy giggled, snuggling close. “Of course I did. I’m irresistible.”

And just like that, the heavy day grew lighter—not because the stress disappeared, but because Zippy had reminded him that he didn’t have to carry it alone.