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NIGHTMARES WERE PRACTICALLY ROUTINE for Haven Cleary. Most nights, Haven would abruptly wake up, crying or screaming (sometimes both).
Usually her screams would wake one of her family members, whether it was her mother, who would stroke her hair until she fell asleep again, her dad who would hug her as she sobbed into his shoulder, her brother who would sit in the kitchen and drink hot chocolate with her, or her sister who would sleep next to her so Haven would feel a little less alone.
Haven considered herself lucky, her family cared so deeply for her, and wished so hard to make her pain go away. They all did their best to comfort her, but they couldn't truly understand what she was going through; that was the difference between empathy, and the sympathy they gave her.
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Haven woke up gasping for air, tears streaming down her face, having awoken from a particularly scarring nightmare. No one heard her wake up, and she didn't have the heart to awaken any of them, since this had happened every night this week.
Instead, Haven mindlessly walked downstairs and out her front door. The cold winter air instantly hit her as she stepped outside, goosebumps forming on the surface of her skin, as she was only wearing her thin silk pajamas.
The blonde hadn't really registered her actions until she knocked on the door of the house next to hers, and a very groggy Finnick answered the door, rubbing his eyes.
"It's 3:00am Haven what are you doi-" His words trailed off when he saw the tears still streaming down the blonde's face, grabbing her arm and pulling her inside. "God you're freezing." Finnick commented, her skin like ice against his.
Finnick led her into the living room, and Haven realized she'd never been inside his house before. She sat on the couch, still not having said anything, and Finnick draped a blanket over her. He walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later with two steaming cups of tea in his hands.
He handed one of the cups to Haven, the blonde wrapping her freezing, numb fingers around the warm cup. "Let me guess, nightmare?" Finnick asked, sitting next to Haven on the couch.
"Yeah. I didn't want to wake my family again and I didn't know what else to do, so I came here." The blonde said sheepishly. "I- I'm sorry I woke you, I can just go." Haven said, starting to stand up, but Finnick quickly put his arm out, gesturing her to sit back down.
"Haven it's okay, I swear. Don't apologize." He said, resting his hand on her knee. "I've had my fair share of them too. Do you want to talk about it?" The blonde nodded slowly.
"I was back on the tour, I kept looking into the eyes of families whose children are dead because of me, families whose children I killed." Her voice wavered, tears forming in her eyes again. "I just constantly have all this crippling guilt weighing on me. I don't even stop feeling it when I'm asleep, it's inescapable." Haven said, leaning her head back on the couch.
