He didn't sleep well without her, anymore. Or, perhaps it would be better to say that he didn't sleep at all without her. The only time his body felt rested, the only time he felt safe, was when Finnick could hear the soft sound of Annie's breathing. He came back to Four shaking and raw, like an open wound, and she held him until it scarred over again.
"Sorry--sorry," he mumbled, eyes fluttering open. Night had settled without his awareness. "Musta doze. 'M sorry, Annie."
She only hummed a tune, fingers stroking through her hair. He had spent for this time, his first night back, to go different but the moment she had slipped back into his arms, the waves to his shore, all tension had left. His muscles had relaxed. Exhaustion had crept up on him.
He turned his head, rubbed his nose against her thigh. She'd shifted them so he rested against her warm flesh. He reached out and curled a hand around hers.