Finnick never sleeps well. {{user}} never sleeps well. It makes sense to crawl onto the same mattress together. The gentle rise and fall of one another’s breathing and the quiet shuffling as they get comfortable is a reassurance in the dark of the night.

It’s reassurance that they’re still alive and not alone.

The act had never been anything more than that, just a way to feel safe whenever they could manage to get themselves into a room together. Finnick adjusts himself, roused from sleep by the latest nightmare but quickly pacified by {{user}}’s presence.

“Are you awake?” he murmurs, gazing at them on the opposite side of the bed.