KIWI | H.S.

twenty two.

July 25, 2016

Three days. It's been three days. Harry's tried calling me a few times—once a day to be exact—but I can tell he's trying to tread carefully. The silent tension between us grows with each passing day, hanging in the air and looming over me. Part of the reason I don't answer is the voicemail he left on that first night, apologizing. He called to apologize when he has nothing to apologize for. I'm the guilty party here. I should be the one apologizing. His good hearted nature makes me feel even more guilty. I can't bring myself to admit that to him yet, I've barely admitted it to myself. It's created an emotional barrier I don't know how to bridge.

The complexity of the situation has been gnawing at me for days, caught between the guilt and my undeniable pull of emotions toward Harry because the truth is, I'm falling too. I have been for a long time now—how could I not with his charm? But I just know deep down that we would never end well. He's Harry Styles and I'm just Sienna. Maybe if we weren't on an impending journey to parenthood, I'd be more open to exploring something with him, we wouldn't be tied to one another afterward. Eighteen years is a long time to be obligated to another person, I can't bear the thought of a number of those years being soured due to our paths not aligning in the long run. Friendship is a much easier dynamic to navigate for that amount of time. I want our daughter to have a stable and harmonious upbringing, unburdened by the complexities of our relationship dynamics.

Despite my better judgment, I decide to call Mitch. I get the impression he's frustrated with me since I've been avoiding him too. But knowing him, he'd probably be taking Harry's side in all of this. They've gotten rather close over the course of their time in the tropics.

"She lives!" Mitch hollers as he picks up my FaceTime call. He's laying on his bed in a yellow floral button up that's completely open. The lamp is casting a yellowish glow over the wall and rattan headboard behind him.

I laugh, "Indeed she does. Sorry, I've been taking some time to myself." I apologize.

"No worries, sis. We all need to sometimes. Just as long as you're taking care of yourself and Kiki." He brushes off my apology easily.

"Kiki, huh? Harry and I haven't discussed that one, but I'm pretty sure it's off the table." I joke.

He shrugs, "Just me and the rest if the crew's nickname for her. If you don't keep it, we will." He winks.

I can't help but smile. They talk about her? She already has a nickname? Sometimes I don't realize how many people already know and love her until they're the ones that bring her up. It makes me excited.

"Where'd it come from?" I can't help but ask.

"Kiwi. That's one of the songs we're working on lately." He says passively, but the air leaves my lungs.

Harry's mentioned writing songs about me, Mitch has as well, but hearing that title just solidified that for me. I'm suddenly itching to know more about it.

"Kiwi?" I ask. I didn't realize more people than just Harry and I knew about the little nickname for our daughter.

"Yep," He says, popping the 'p'. "Harry's got this thing for symbolism, you know? Titling the song kiwi when it has nothing to do with the actual fruit." Mitch grins. "It's going to be insane live."

As he talks, I can't help but wonder what all he reveals in the song. The next months of waiting are going to be torture.

Mitch chuckles at my curiosity, "Don't think too hard, Sise. You know Harry, always mysterious about his lyrics. Nobody's gonna know unless he wants them to."

I nod, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation lingering in my thoughts. "Well, I'm sure it's amazing. I should catch up with him soon." I say, trailing off, trying to get a gauge on how much Mitch knows about my current predicament.