Rooftop Summer | EN- Jake

10

The days blurred into one another as summer stretched on, but for Hanna, the nights became the highlight of her existence. Each evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the city began to quiet, she would find herself drawn back to the abandoned building. It was as if the rooftop had became a sanctuary, a place where the weight of her reality could be momentarily forgotten.

The boy was always there, sitting at the edge of the rooftop, his silhouette outlined against the twinkling lights of the city below. Hanna would join him, silently taking her place beside him, their unspoken understanding deepening with each passing night. They still hadn't exchanged any words, but there was comfort in the silence, in the simple act of being together.

One evening, as they sat side by side, the sky above them began to shift from deep blue to velvety black, the first stars appearing like pinpricks of light in the darkness. Hanna leaned back, her hands resting on the cool concrete, her eyes tracing the familiar constellations. She had always loved stargazing, finding solace in the vastness of the universe, but tonight the stars seemed especially bright, their light cutting through the haze of the city below.

The boy shifted beside her, his posture relaxed yet still tinged with that quiet tension she had come to recognise. After a long stretch of silence, he finally spoke, his voice soft and low, as if the words were slipping out without his permission.

"Do you think the sky feels lonely?" He asked, his eyes fixed on the stars above them.

The question caught Hanna off guard, not just because it was the first time he had spoken, but because of the depth it carried. She turned her head slightly to look at him, searching his profile in the dim light for any hint of what he might be feeling. His expression was thoughtful, distant, as if he were trying. To find answers in the vast expanse above them.

" I don't know," Hanna replied after a moment, her voice just as soft.
"Maybe. But the stars keep it company, don't they?"

The boy didn't respond immediately, his gaze never leaving the sky.
"Maybe," he echoed, as if turning the idea over his mind.
"But the stars are so far way. Even with them, it must feel... empty sometimes."

Hanna felt a pang in her chest, recognising the loneliness in his words. She had felt that emptiness herself, had been drowning in it before she found this rooftop, before she found him. For a moment, she considered sharing that with him, but the words stuck in her throat. She wasn't ready to reveal her struggles, not yet.

Instead, she shifted closer to him, their shoulders almost brushing,
"I think the sky find comfort in the stars, even if they're far away," she said quietly.
"Just like we find comfort in the little things, even when everything else feels overwhelming."

He finally turned to look at her, his eyes meeting hers for the first time that night. There was something in his gaze—curiosity, perhaps, or maybe just a recognition of shared pain. Whatever it was, it made her feel less alone.

They sat in silence for a while longer, both lost in their thoughts. The city hummed beneath them, a distant murmur that faded into the background as the night deepened. Hanna found herself wanting to know more about him, about the thoughts that had driven him to this rooftop night after night. But she didn't want to push him, didn't want to shatter the fragile connection the had formed.

Finally, she took a deep breath and decided to offer a small piece of herself, something that might bridge the gap between them.
"I'm Hanna." She said softly, breaking the silence.
"I figured... since we'll be seeing each other more often, it might be nice to know each other's names."

The boy hesitated, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he nodded slightly.
"Jake," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Jake," Hanna repeated, the name rolling off her tongue with a sense of familiarity. It felt right somehow, as if it belonged to him, to the boy who had become her silent companion in the night.

For the first time, she saw a hint of smile tug at the corners of his lips, a small, barely noticeable curve that made her heart lift.
"It's nice to meet you, Jake," she said, a genuine smile spreading across her own face.

Jake didn't respond with words, but the slight relaxation in his posture told her that he felt the same. They returned to their comfortable silence, but this time, it was tinged with something new—an unspoken agreement that they would continue to meet here, on this rooftop, night after night.

Over the next few evenings, their conversations remained light, their words few but meaningful. They talked about the stars, about the weather, about the little things that caught their attention as they sat together. Neither of them delved into their personal lives, into the struggles that had brought them to this place. But that was okay. They didn't need to. The connection they shared was built on something deeper than words, something that didn't require explanations.

Hanna found herself looking forward to their meetings, to the quiet companionship they offered each other. The nights become a source of comfort, a refuge from the thoughts that plagued her during the day. The anticipation of seeing Jake, of sitting beside him in silence or exchanging a few words about nothing in particular, gave her a reason to get out of bed each day.

The despair that had once consumed her began to fade, replaced by a quiet determination to make the most of the time she had left. She didn't know how much time that would be, but she knew she didn't want to waste it. And while she wasn't ready to face the world just yet, these nights on the rooftop with Jake were enough to keep her going.

Jake, too, seemed to find solace in their meetings. Though he remained quiet and reserved, there were moments when his guard slipped, when she caught a glimpse of the person he was beneath the layers of silence. He would occasionally ask her questions, sometimes deep, sometimes simple, and she would answer as honestly as she could, enjoying the ways their conversations flowed naturally, without pressure or expectations.

One night, as they sat together in their usual spots, Jake asked,
"Do you think it's possible to find peace, even when everything is falling apart?"

Hanna thought about it for a moment, her gaze fixed on the stars.
"I think it's possible," she replied slowly.
"But I don't think it's something you find all at once. It's more like... little pieces that come together over time."

Jake nodded, seeming to take her words to heart.
"Maybe you're right," he said softly.

They lapsed into silence again, but this time, it was filled with a sense of shared understanding. Hanna felt her heart swell with a quiet, fragile hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, they could both find a way to piece together their broken lives, even if it was only in th esp all moments they shared on this rooftop.

As the days turned into weeks, their bond deepened. They still didn't talk about the things that weighed them down, but that was okay. There was comfort in the unspoken, in the knowledge that they didn't have to face their struggles alone. And as the summer wore on, Hanna found herself looking forward to each night, knowing that Jake would be there, waiting for her.

For the first time in a long while, she felt like she had a reason to keep going, a reason to wake up each morning and face whatever the day might bring. And that reason was sitting beside her on the rooftop, a quiet companion in the darkness, who had unknowingly become her anchor in a world that had once felt like it was slipping away.