justin hillâ:
It had been hard for him to grasp the situation. He still didnât know how he had to handle everything. The idea of being a father was still foreign to him and he felt like the time he had to process it hadnât been enough. He still had so many questions and he hadnât been able to provide himself with them. So when he found Sienna on his doorstep he felt all kind of mixed emotions. There was a part of him that was conflicted, nervous, angry even. But also relieved and glad. There was still a sense of awkwardness between them after he had offered her to come inside, offering her a drink in the kitchen that had always felt too empty now that his grandmother wasnât constantly creating new dishes in them for her restaurant. Standing against the kitchen island, Justin wasnât sure what to say. Or whether continuing about where their conversation had been abruptly ended during the vigil was a good idea or not.Â
âSo uh..â He hummed. tracing his fingers against his glass filled with water. âIs she still in England? With your mom?âÂ
â ever since the bonfire, sienna had been quietly dreading the next encounter with her former fiance. though she knew such things were necessary especially when she was trying to forge a relationship for their daughterâs sake. her nerves were shattered as soon as she pressed the doorbell but it was far too late to consider running away for a second time. which led her to taking a chair in his spacious kitchen, which was worthy of its own page in architectural digest, and quenching her thirst with a modest glass of water. her mouth dried suddenly in quick response to his question. how could she tell him she had brought her here? under the guise of knowing who her father was? in the quiet hopes of forming some kind of long-lost relationship with him? her mind trickled with thoughts of lena, the sweet innocent little girl that had been the catalyst for such a spontaneous event, knowing all too well honesty was now her best policy. wetting her lips a little, sienna shook her head slowly, tired fingers raking through tired, lacklustre hair. â no, actually sheâs here, on the island â she admitted warmly, any hint of cool disconnection from the situation no longer evident. â i thought it would be easier somehow â the petite brunette gave a soft shrug, a little nervous and self-conscious in his presence.












