Rooftop Summer | EN- Jake

14

Jake stood on the rooftop, the city sprawling endlessly before him. The familiar chill of the night air wrapped around him, but tonight seemed colder, more biting than usual. He shifted from foot to foot, his hands buried deep in his pocket as he scanned the horizon for any sign of Hanna. She had never missed a night, not since they'd started mating here, each evening finding them together, sharing in the silence or divulging dreams and soft-spoken words.

Tonight was supposed to be different. Tonight, Jake had resolved to open up about his feelings, to confess how much these meetings had come to mean to him, how they had slowly started filling the void that had been gnawing at him for so long. He rehearsed the words in his mind, each sentence carefully crafted to convey just how deeply he had been affected by her presence in his life.

But as the hours ticked by, there was no sign of her. The usual flicker of excitement he felt as the sun set and the city lights began to twinkle had turned into a knot of worry. Where was she? Had something happened? Or had she simply changed her mind about coming?

The first hint of doubt crept into Jake's mind as the night grew older. Maybe she had other plans, he thought. Maybe something—or someone—else needed her attention tonight. He tried to push away the disappointment, telling himself that it was okay, that one missed night didn't mean anything. But the empty space beside him felt too significant, too accusatory.

He waited until the first pale light of dawn started to bleed into the sky, the stars fading and the city awakening. But she never came. The realisation was like a physical blow, leaving him feeling hollowed out. With a heavy heart, he finally left the rooftop, the unsaid words burning like a weight in his chest.

The next day passed slowly, each hour stretching out interminably. Jake tried to distract himself with mundane tasks, tried to lose himself in the daily grind, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Hanna. Had he misread the situation so completely? He thought about texting her, checking in to see if everything was alright, but hesitated. They had never exchanged number; their meetings had always been confined to the spontaneous sanctuary of the rooftop. He regretted that now, regretted not having a way to reach out and ensure she was safe.

As evening approached again, Jake found himself back on the rooftop, driven by a mix of hope and desperation. Maybe she'd show up tonight, he thought. Maybe last night had been an anomaly, a simple change of plans, and she'd be back, smiling and ready to share in their usual quiet companionship.

But she didn't come.

The city lights flickered on, one by one, the night slowly reclaiming the sky from fading daylight. Jake waited, watched, and hoped. But as the hours passed and the usual time for their meeting came and went, a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. She wasn't coming. Maybe she was never coming back.

The realisation hit him harder than he expected. He felt adrift, unmoored. The nights on the rooftop with Hanna had become something he relied on, a beacon in the otherwise murky waters of his life. Without her, the darkness seemed deeper, more oppressive.

Despair crept in as he stood alone, the cold seeping through his clothes and his bones. He had so much he'd wanted to share, so much he'd hoped to share. The thought that he might never got the chance, that he might never see her again, was too much to bear.

He tried to muster up hope, tried to convince himself that there was a good reason for her absence. Maybe she was just busy, maybe she was dealing with something important. But as the second dawn without her approached, his hope faded, replaced by a growing sense of loss.

Jake left the rooftop as the first light of dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and orange. The walk home felt longer than usual, each step heavier, each thought tinged with worry and regret. Had he done something wrong? Had he missed some crucial cue that night before, some sign that she was pulling away?

He resolved to return again the next night, and the night after that if necessary. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that clung to him, as persistent as the morning mist. Hanna had become more important to him than he had realised, and the possibility of losing her, of never seeing her again, left him feeling more alone than ever.

Jake's mind raced with worst-case scenarios, each more distressing than the last. He needed answers, needed to know she was alright. But without any way to contact her, he felt helpless, stuck in a limbo of his own making. All he could do was wait, hope, and return to the rooftop each night, clinging to the faint hope that she would appear, that every thing would return to normal.

But as the sky lightened and the city stirred to life, Jake couldn't shake the feeling that nothing would ever be the same again. Without Hanna, the rooftop was just a rooftop, and the night was just a blanket of darkness, empty and unforgiving.