Rooftop Summer | EN- Jake

13

The nights passed in a quiet, comforting routine. Every evening, as the city settled into its rhythm of twilight, Hanna would make her way to the rooftop, where Jake was always waiting. Their connection deepened with each meeting, a bond forged in the silence of the night and the unspoken understanding that they were both carrying heavy burdens.

Hanna's confession during the fireworks had been lost in the noise, and though she had briefly considered telling Jake about her illness again, she found herself hesitating each time. There was something about their time together that felt sacred, untouched by the harsh realities of the world. She didn't want to shatter that fragile peace by burdening him with the knowledge of her limited time.

Jake, for his part, never pushed her to share more than she was willing to. He seemed to understand that there were some things better left unsaid, at least for now. Instead, they continued to find comfort in each other's presence, slowly opening up about their lives in ways that felt safe, revealing pieces of themselves without exposing the deepest wounds.

One evening, as they sat together on the edge of the rooftop, the city lights twinkling below, Jake turned to Hanna with a thoughtful expression.
"Do you ever think about the future?" He asked, his voice quiet and contemplative.

Hanna glanced at him, surprised by the question. She had spent so much time avoiding thoughts of the future, trying to focus on the present and the small moments of happiness she could still find. But the question lingered in the air between them, and she realised that, despite everything, she did think about the future—about the life she might have had, about the dreams that had once seemed so unattainable.

"Sometimes," she admitted, her gaze drifting up to the sky. The stars were faint tonight, obscured by the city's glow, but they were still there, distant and unreachable.
"I used to think about it all the time. I had plans, you know? Big dreams. But now..."

She trailed off, the weight of her unspoken truth pressing down on her. She wanted to tell him, to share the reality of her situation, but the words stuck in her throat, too heavy to release.

Jake nodded, his expression somber.
"Yeah, I get that. I used to have plans too. Things I wanted to do, places I wanted to see." He paused, his gaze distant.
"But it's hard to think about the future when the present feels so... uncertain."

Hanna looked at him, sensing the same reluctance in his voice that she felt in her own. She wanted to ask him what he meant, wanted to know what had brought him to this rooftop night after night, but she knew better than to push. They had built their relationship on a foundation of trust, of mutual understanding, and she didn't want to break that by prying into things he wasn't ready to share.

Instead, she decided to share something lighter, something that didn't carry the same weight as her illness.
"I used to dream about travelling," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"I wanted to see the world, visit all those places you only see in movies or read about in books. Paris, Tokyo, the Grand Canyon... I had this whole list of places I wanted to go."

Jake's expression softened, a faint smile appearing on his face.
"Paris, huh? That's at the top of my list too."

Hanna's smile widened.
"Really? What about Paris? The Eiffel Tower?"

He shook his head slightly.
"Not just the tourist spots. I've always wanted to wander through the streets, get lost in the alleys, find this little cafes where you can sit and watch the world go by. There's something about the idea of just... being there, you know? Like you're part of something bigger, even if only for a moment."

Hanna nodded, understanding exactly what he meant.
"Yeah, I get that. There's something magical about being in a place where you don't know anyone, where you're just another face in the crowd. It's like you can be whoever you want to be, even if it's just for a little while."

They fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Hanna imagined what it would be like to stroll through the streets of Paris with Jake, the two of them exploring the city together, sharing stories and laughter over cups of coffee in a quiet cafe. It was a dream that felt distant, almost impossible, but it was a dream nonetheless.

"What bout you?" Jake asked after a while, breaking the silence.
"Any other places you want to go?"

Hanna considered the question, her mind wandering to all the destinations she had once dreamed of visiting. But there was one place that stood out, a place that had always held a special place in her heart.

"I've always wanted to see the Northern Lights," she said, her voice soft with longing.
"There's something about the idea of standing under that sky, watching the colours dance above you... It's like you're witnessing something otherworldly, something beyond our understanding."

Jake's eyes lit up with interest.
"That sounds amazing. I've seen pictures, but I bet it's even more incredible in person."

Hanna nodded, the image of the Northern Lights vivid in her mind.
"Yeah, I think so too. It's one of those things that you have to experience for yourself, something that can't be captured in a photo or a video. It's like... a reminder that there's still magic in the world, even when everything else feels so dark."

Jake was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
"Maybe one day, we'll both get to see it," he said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of hope.

Hanna smile, the thought warming her heart.
"Maybe," she agreed, though she knew that the likelihood of her seeing the Northern Lights was slim. Still, it was a nice dream, a dream that she could hold onto, even if only for a little while.

They continued to share their dreams, each one a small piece of the future they had once imagined for themselves. Jake talked about his desire to visit Japan, to experience the cherry blossoms in Kyoto and explore the bustling streets of Tokyo. Hanna shared her dreams of visiting the beaches of Bali, of feeling the sand between her toes and the sun on her skin.

As they spoke, the distance between them seemed to shrink, the bond they had formed growing stronger with each shared dream. They still didn't talk about the things that weighed them down, the things that had brought them to this rooftop in the first place, but there was an unspoken understanding between them—a recognition that they were both holding something back, something too painful to share just yet.

And that was okay. They didn't need to lay everything bare. There was comfort in the things they did share, in the dreams they allowed themselves to hold onto, even if only in the quiet moments they spent together.

As the night wore on, the sky darkened, and the city below began to quiet, the lights flickering like distant stars. Hanna felt a sense of peace settle over her, a peace that had been elusive for so long. She knew that her time was limited, that the future she dreamed of might never come to pass, but for now, she was content to simply be here, to share these moments with Jake.

She glanced over at him, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the city lights, and felt a surge of gratitude for the connection they had found. He had become more than just a companion in the night; he had become a friend, someone who understood her in ways she hadn't thought possible.

"Thank you," she said softly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Jake turned to her, his expression curious.
"For what?"

Hanna smiled, a small, genuine smile that reached her eyes.
"For being here. For... everything."

Jake didn't respond with words, but the look in his eyes said enough. There was an understanding between them, a quiet acknowledgement of the significance of their time together. They didn't need to say anything more; the connection they had forged was enough to speak for them.

As they sat together, side by side, sharing their dreams under the vast expanse of the night sky, Hanna felt a flicker of hope that had been absent for so long. She didn't know what the future held, didn't know how much time she had left, but she knew one thing for certain—she wasn't alone. And that, for now, was enough.