Haunted Melodies - Billie Eilish Story

The quite comfort

The Quiet Comfort

The sun had long set, leaving the sky outside the window inky and dark. Inside, the living room was bathed in the soft glow of the television, the flickering light casting shadows across the cozy space. The three of them—Y/N, Billie, and Finneas—had decided to settle in for a movie after a long day of music, laughter, and pancakes.

Billie sat in the middle of the couch, Y/N nestled comfortably against her side, their head resting on her shoulder. Finneas lounged on the other end, his legs stretched out as he absentmindedly fiddled with his phone between scenes. The movie played quietly, a soft hum in the background, but Y/N had barely said a word since they’d settled in.

At first, Billie hadn’t thought much of it. Y/N had always been more reserved, especially after nights like the one before, where emotions ran high and old wounds were reopened. But as the movie dragged on and Y/N remained quiet, Billie began to grow concerned. She shifted slightly, glancing down at Y/N, who seemed lost in thought, their eyes fixed on the screen but not really seeing it.

Finneas, of course, had noticed long before Billie did. He had an uncanny ability to read Y/N, to understand them even when they didn’t say a word. He could see that Y/N wasn’t upset or withdrawn in the way they sometimes were after a bad night. This was different. He could tell from the relaxed way they leaned into Billie, from the soft sighs that escaped them every so often. Y/N wasn’t sad—they were just choosing not to speak for a while.

Finneas glanced over at Billie, who was watching Y/N with quiet concern, her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out what was wrong. He smiled slightly to himself, knowing that Billie was probably overthinking things, as she often did when it came to Y/N. She hadn’t yet learned to recognize this particular part of Y/N—the moments where they chose to be silent not out of sadness, but simply because they felt more at peace that way.

Finneas shifted on the couch, catching Billie’s attention with a small wave of his hand. She looked over at him, her eyebrows raised in a silent question, and Finneas tilted his head slightly, gesturing toward Y/N with a knowing look.

Billie’s confusion deepened. She didn’t quite understand what Finneas was getting at, but she trusted him enough to know there was something he was trying to communicate. She leaned back a little, her hand still resting on Y/N’s arm, and gave Finneas a questioning glance.

Finneas leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so he wouldn’t disturb Y/N.

“She’s not upset,” Finneas murmured, his voice quiet but clear. “She’s just… choosing to be quiet for a bit. It’s something she does sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong.”

Billie blinked, her concern slowly giving way to understanding. “Oh,” she whispered back, glancing down at Y/N again. “I didn’t know.”

Finneas smiled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, she’s done it for as long as I’ve known her. It’s like… her way of just being in the moment. She’ll speak when she’s ready, but you don’t need to worry about her.”

Billie nodded slowly, her gaze softening as she looked down at Y/N, who still rested against her shoulder, seemingly content in the quiet. She felt a small wave of relief wash over her. She hadn’t wanted to press Y/N or make them feel like they had to explain themselves, but now that Finneas had given her some insight, it made sense. Y/N was just taking a moment to be still, to exist without the pressure of conversation.

Billie leaned her head back against the couch, her hand gently brushing through Y/N’s hair as she relaxed again. She could feel the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s breathing, a quiet comfort that made her heart swell. It was amazing, really, how someone could say so much without uttering a word.

Finneas watched the two of them with a fond smile. It was a small thing, but he was glad Billie now understood this part of Y/N. He knew Y/N often struggled with their emotions, and being mute for a while was one of the ways they managed. It wasn’t something they did often, but when they did, it was important to let them have that space.

After a few minutes, Billie turned her attention back to the movie, her fingers still absentmindedly playing with Y/N’s hair. The room settled into a peaceful quiet, the soft sounds of the film and the occasional rustle of blankets the only things breaking the silence.

Y/N, for their part, had noticed the exchange between Billie and Finneas, even though they hadn’t said anything. They appreciated how Finneas always seemed to understand them, how he knew when to explain things to others without making them feel awkward or pressured. It was a relief to know that Billie now understood too, that she wasn’t worried or confused by their silence.

As the movie continued, Y/N slowly shifted, pressing a little closer to Billie, their head now resting against her chest. It was a small gesture, but it was their way of showing appreciation—another hint, as subtle as always, but meaningful to them. They felt safe here, in this quiet moment, and they hoped Billie could sense that.

Billie, feeling Y/N shift closer, smiled down at them and pressed a soft kiss to the top of their head. It wasn’t a bold gesture, just something natural and full of quiet affection. She had started to understand that Y/N didn’t need big, dramatic gestures. They just needed the simple things—the soft touches, the quiet moments of reassurance, the feeling of being close to someone who cared.

Finneas, ever the observer, saw the small exchange and couldn’t help but grin to himself. He knew Y/N was bad with words, but actions? They spoke volumes. And even though Billie was still getting the hang of reading Y/N’s signals, it was clear she was learning fast.

As the movie came to an end, the credits rolling across the screen, Finneas stretched with a groan, breaking the comfortable silence. “That was… a movie,” he said with a laugh, clearly not too invested in whatever plot they had just watched.

Billie chuckled, rolling her eyes at her brother. “You say that every time, Finn.”

“Because it’s always true,” he shot back, standing up from the couch and grabbing the empty popcorn bowl. “I’ll leave you two to your snuggles while I clean up.”

Billie smiled, watching as he headed toward the kitchen. She glanced down at Y/N, who was still tucked against her, their eyes closed now as if they were ready to drift off into sleep. She wrapped her arm around them a little tighter, holding them close as the room settled into quiet again.

“Take your time,” Billie whispered softly, knowing Y/N might not be ready to speak yet. “I’m here when you’re ready.”

And with that, the house fell back into its peaceful rhythm, the gentle hum of the night surrounding them in a quiet warmth. Finneas hummed a soft tune from the kitchen, and Billie continued to hold Y/N close, knowing that sometimes the best conversations didn’t need words at all.