The house was quiet, everyone else asleep, but you lay in bed wide awake. The ceiling felt heavy above you, shadows stretching long across your walls. No matter how many times you shifted under the blankets, your body wouldn’t calm down, your mind buzzing restlessly.

Finally, you gave up and slipped out into the hallway. The floor creaked softly under your steps as you padded toward the living room, where a dim lamp was still on. Billie sat on the couch, glasses on, a book in his hands. He looked up the moment he heard you.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, voice low and warm. “What are you doing up?”

You hesitated in the doorway, rubbing your arm. “I… I can’t sleep.”

His face softened right away. He set the book aside and patted the spot next to him. “C’mere.”

You climbed onto the couch, curling against him. He pulled a blanket over your shoulders and rested his arm around you, keeping you close. “Your overthinking again, huh?” he murmured.

You nodded into his chest.

“Yeah, I know that feeling.” He rubbed your back slowly, steady. “Happened to me all the time when I was your age. Still does sometimes. But hey—nothing bad’s gonna happen right now. You’re safe here. Just me, you, and this creaky old couch.”

You let out a small laugh, muffled, and he smiled. “There it is. Knew I could get you to crack a smile.” He leaned his cheek against the top of your head. “How about we sit here for a bit? I’ll tell you one of my stupid stories until your eyes get heavy. Sound good?”