Haunted Melodies - Billie Eilish Story

The quiet wisdom of Finneas

The Quiet Wisdom of Finneas

The following morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Y/N blinked awake, momentarily disoriented before the memories of the previous night rushed back. They had spent the rest of the night wrapped in Billie’s warmth, and though the remnants of their nightmares still lingered in the corners of their mind, the fear that had gripped them so tightly had lessened.

Billie was still asleep beside them, her hair tousled and her face peaceful in the morning light. Y/N found a small smile tugging at their lips as they gently untangled themselves from the blankets, trying not to wake her. Quietly, they slipped out of the room and padded down the hall, their mind still buzzing from everything that had happened.

As Y/N descended the stairs, the smell of coffee hit their senses, and they weren’t surprised to find Finneas already in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup. He looked up as they entered, a small smile playing on his lips as if he knew they’d be up early. Somehow, he always seemed to know.

Y/N stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him. He moved with an easy grace, his expression relaxed as he went about making breakfast like it was the most natural thing in the world. But to Y/N, there was something almost magical about it—the way he just knew how to be there for them, how he always said the right thing without ever being asked.

It wasn’t the first time Y/N had thought about it. Ever since they’d started spending more time with Billie and Finneas, they had noticed it—the way Finneas seemed to understand people on a deeper level, the way he could read a room without anyone needing to say a word. He was always quietly observing, always ready to step in and offer help when it was needed, without ever making a big deal out of it.

Y/N wandered into the kitchen, still watching him closely, wondering how he did it. How did he always seem to know when something was wrong, even when they didn’t say a word?

Finneas glanced up as Y/N entered the room, raising an eyebrow at the way they were staring at him. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but tinged with curiosity.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding, offering him a small smile. “Yeah,” they mumbled, grabbing a seat at the kitchen island. “Just... thinking.”

Finneas smirked, pouring them a cup of coffee before sliding it across the counter. “Thinking about what?”

Y/N paused, wrapping their hands around the warm mug. They didn’t know how to explain it without sounding ridiculous, but the question had been nagging at them ever since last night. “How do you always know?” they asked quietly, their gaze flicking up to meet Finneas’s.

Finneas raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. “Know what?”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Everything,” they said after a moment. “How do you always know when something’s wrong? How do you always know what to say? It’s like... you just get people, like you can see things that no one else can.”

Finneas’s expression softened as he leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s not magic,” he said with a small chuckle. “I just... pay attention, I guess.”

Y/N frowned slightly, not entirely satisfied with that answer. “But it’s more than that. Like last night, you knew exactly what I needed. You didn’t push, you didn’t ask for explanations. You just... helped.”

Finneas’s smile was warm, but there was something knowing in his eyes as he watched Y/N closely. “You’re not that hard to read, you know,” he said softly. “It’s all in the little things. The way you tense up when you’re nervous, the way your hands shake when you’re overwhelmed. You don’t have to say anything for me to know when something’s bothering you.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by how easily he had picked up on all those things. They hadn’t even realized they were doing them. “I didn’t think anyone noticed,” they murmured, their gaze dropping to the mug in their hands.

Finneas chuckled again, but it was a gentle sound, full of understanding. “I notice. And so does Billie, even if she doesn’t always say it.” He took a sip of his coffee before continuing, his voice soft and thoughtful. “It’s not just about listening to words. It’s about paying attention to how people move, how they react to things. Sometimes, people can’t find the right words, and that’s okay. You don’t always have to say everything out loud to be understood.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread through their chest at his words. It was strange—comforting, but also overwhelming—to realize that Finneas had been quietly observing them this whole time, noticing the things they thought no one saw.

“I’ve always been bad with words,” Y/N admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like, I want to say things, but when the moment comes... I can’t. It’s like I freeze.”

Finneas nodded, not missing a beat. “I get that. Some things are hard to say. But it’s okay to struggle with words, Y/N. What matters is that you try, and we’ll be here to listen, whether you find the words or not.”

Y/N met his gaze again, feeling the weight of his understanding settle over them. It was quiet and unspoken, but Finneas had a way of making them feel seen, even when they couldn’t fully express themselves.

Before Y/N could respond, Billie’s voice interrupted the quiet moment as she wandered into the kitchen, her hair still a mess from sleep and her eyes squinting against the morning light. “Good morning, sunshine,” she teased, her voice still raspy as she plopped down next to Y/N.

Y/N smiled, their heart lifting slightly at the sight of her. Billie always had a way of making everything feel a little lighter, a little less heavy. She grinned at Finneas, stealing his mug and taking a sip of his coffee before wrinkling her nose. “You make it so strong,” she groaned, pushing the cup back to him.

Finneas rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched into a smirk. “That’s because you can’t handle real coffee.”

Y/N laughed softly at their banter, feeling the tension from last night finally beginning to ease. The quiet warmth between the three of them made the kitchen feel like a safe haven, a place where they didn’t have to worry about the weight of their past or the nightmares that lurked in the back of their mind.

As the morning went on, they fell into an easy rhythm—Finneas cooking breakfast while Billie and Y/N sat at the counter, talking and laughing about nothing in particular. Y/N found themselves watching Finneas more closely than before, marveling at how easily he moved between the lightness of their banter and the quiet understanding he had shown them earlier. It was like he could shift between roles—protector, friend, brother—without even thinking about it.

Y/N’s mind wandered as they ate, their thoughts swirling around Finneas’s words from earlier. It wasn’t magic, he had said. But to Y/N, it felt like a kind of magic—this quiet ability to understand people without them having to explain everything. It was something they had never experienced before, and it made them wonder how Finneas had become so good at it.

After breakfast, Billie pulled Y/N into the living room to work on some new music. Finneas followed, sitting down at the piano as he played a few soft chords. Y/N sat between Billie and Finneas, their mind still turning over everything they had learned this morning.

As they worked on the song, Y/N found themselves watching Finneas closely again, trying to understand him better. He seemed so relaxed, so at ease, and yet there was a depth to him that Y/N couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just that he paid attention—it was the way he understood, the way he knew how to help without ever making Y/N feel like a burden.

Billie, too, seemed to know Finneas’s mind well. As they worked through melodies and lyrics, she often glanced at him, catching his eye with a smile that spoke of years of shared experiences. Y/N couldn’t help but admire the bond between them, the way they could communicate without saying much at all.

For the rest of the morning, the three of them sat there, playing music, laughing, and teasing each other. The sun continued to rise, flooding the room with warmth and light, and for a little while, everything felt easy. And though Y/N still struggled with finding the right words, they knew that Finneas, with his quiet wisdom, would always understand—even if they couldn’t say everything they wanted to.