Haunted Melodies - Billie Eilish Story

Morning calm

Morning Calm

The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the quiet house. Y/N stirred beneath the blankets, their mind swimming in that strange space between dreams and waking. The world felt hazy and warm, Billie’s soft breathing beside them a comforting rhythm. But beneath the surface, there was a tension, something pressing at the edges of their consciousness.

Their heart started to race.

In the stillness of the early morning, panic crept up on them like a shadow, slowly wrapping itself around their chest. Their breath hitched, and they felt the all-too-familiar tightness begin to settle in. It was as if they were being pulled into a deep, dark hole, the warmth of the room fading into the background as their mind spun with unexplainable fear.

Y/N sat up quickly, the blankets slipping off their body as they tried to catch their breath. They knew what this was—it had happened before. Panic, unprovoked and sudden, crashing into them like a tidal wave. They wanted to cry out, to ask for help, but the words felt stuck in their throat.

Billie stirred beside them, still lost in the peaceful realm of sleep. Y/N didn’t want to wake her, didn’t want to pull her out of that serene calm. But they couldn’t stop the trembling in their hands or the rapid pounding of their heart.

Just then, the bedroom door creaked open quietly, and Finneas stepped into the room, his eyes still heavy with sleep but his expression immediately shifting to concern as he took in Y/N’s state. He didn’t say anything at first—he just moved quietly, slipping into the room and kneeling beside the bed, his hand gently resting on Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N turned to him, their eyes wide and full of panic, but Finneas’s calm presence was grounding. He didn’t ask questions or try to pry into their mind. He just sat with them, his hand a steady anchor on their shoulder, his expression soft and patient.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Finneas said quietly, his voice soothing in the quiet of the morning. “You’re safe. Just breathe with me, okay?”

Y/N nodded, though their breath still came in short, ragged gasps. Finneas gently took their hand, placing it on his chest so they could feel the rise and fall of his steady breathing. He kept his own breaths slow and deep, hoping Y/N would follow his lead.

“Breathe in,” he whispered, taking a long, exaggerated breath. “And out…”

Y/N focused on the rhythm of his breathing, trying to mimic it even as their chest felt tight and constricted. Slowly, bit by bit, they started to feel the panic ebb, the dark clouds lifting as they focused on Finneas’s calm presence. His hand never left theirs, grounding them in the moment.

After a few minutes, the tightness in their chest began to ease, and Y/N took a deep, shuddering breath, their mind finally starting to quiet.

“There you go,” Finneas said softly, his voice full of warmth. “You’re okay.”

Y/N looked at him, their eyes still wide with lingering anxiety, but there was a sense of calm returning to them now. They wanted to say something—to thank him, maybe, or to apologize for the panic—but as always, the words seemed elusive.

Finneas smiled gently, giving their hand a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”

Y/N nodded, their eyes softening as they leaned into Finneas a little, seeking comfort. He wrapped his arm around them, pulling them into a brief, quiet hug.

“You’re not alone in this, okay?” he murmured. “Whenever it gets too much, I’m here. Billie’s here. You don’t have to do it alone.”

Y/N felt a surge of gratitude for Finneas. He always knew what to say, how to help, without making them feel like a burden. It was something they appreciated more than they could express. And in moments like this, when the panic threatened to consume them, he was always there to pull them back into the light.

After a while, Y/N felt steady enough to get out of bed, and together, they tiptoed out of the room, leaving Billie to sleep a little longer. The two of them made their way to the kitchen, the soft morning light filling the space with warmth.

“Pancakes again?” Finneas asked with a small smile, already reaching for the ingredients.

Y/N nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of their lips. Breakfast had become something of a tradition for the three of them, and the familiar routine brought a sense of normalcy after the chaos of the night.

As Finneas worked on the batter, Y/N busied themselves by setting the table, their mind finally starting to feel clearer. The soft clatter of plates and the sizzle of the stove filled the air, creating a peaceful backdrop to the morning.

By the time the pancakes were ready, Billie had finally woken up, her hair a tousled mess as she shuffled into the kitchen, still half-asleep.

“Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep as she rubbed her eyes. She looked over at Y/N and Finneas, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Did I miss the breakfast party?”

Y/N shook their head, handing Billie a plate with a small smile. Billie took it with a grateful nod, sitting down at the table and stretching out her legs beneath it.

Finneas served up the pancakes, placing a large stack in the center of the table before taking his seat. “We were just waiting for you to wake up, actually,” he teased, glancing at Y/N with a playful grin.

Y/N smiled back, the warmth of the morning settling in around them like a blanket. The panic from earlier had faded, replaced by the familiar comfort of being with Billie and Finneas. As they all dug into breakfast, the conversation flowed easily, laughter filling the kitchen as they teased each other and recounted silly memories.

There was a lightness in the air that felt comforting and safe, and Y/N found themselves relaxing into the moment, their earlier worries forgotten. They weren’t great with words, and they probably never would be, but here, in this little bubble of warmth and laughter, they didn’t need to say much. Finneas and Billie understood them, in ways most people never had.

As they finished breakfast, Billie leaned over to nudge Y/N gently, a teasing smile on her lips. “Feeling better this morning?”

Y/N nodded, giving her a small, genuine smile. Billie’s hand found theirs beneath the table, and she gave it a soft squeeze, her thumb brushing over their knuckles in a gesture that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

“Good,” Billie said quietly, her voice full of affection. “I’m glad.”

Finneas watched the two of them with a knowing smile, sipping his coffee as he leaned back in his chair. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. But the look in his eyes said it all: he saw the way Billie and Y/N cared for each other, the quiet way they communicated through touches and glances. It was something subtle, something easy to miss, but Finneas had always been good at noticing the little things.

As the morning stretched on, the three of them lingered in the kitchen, finishing off their pancakes and enjoying the quiet warmth of each other’s company. Y/N still struggled with their emotions, still found it hard to speak when their mind felt too full, but here, with Billie and Finneas, they didn’t have to. They were surrounded by people who understood them, who knew how to help without asking too much. And in that, they found a sense of peace that made everything feel a little more manageable.