Rooftop Summer | EN- Jake

18

Jake approached the hospital's reception desk, a bouquet of yellow daisies in hand. His visits had become routine now—buy the flowers, tuck in the sour candies, and drop them off anonymously. Yet, each time, the familiar act brought a bittersweet ache to his chest. Today was no different, but as he handed the bouquet to the receptionist, something made him pause.

"Another delivery for Hanna?" the receptionist asked with a gentle smile.

"Yeah," Jake replied, his voice subdued. He nodded as she took the flowers, but instead of leaving immediately, he lingered, his gaze drifting toward the hallway that led deeper into the hospital. His feet felt glued to the floor, the urge to walk away battling the pull to stay.

"You okay, sweetheart?" the receptionist asked, noticing his hesitation.

Jake forced a small smile.
"Yeah. I'm good," he said, though his heart told a different story.

Instead of stepping out into the crisp air, he moved to the waiting area near the entrance. Sitting on the edge of a chair, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his mind spinning. He didn't want to leave—not yet. Something deep inside him yearned for more than just this anonymous exchange. He wanted to see her, even if only from a distance.

Upstairs, Hanna sat on her bed, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she waited for the flowers. It had become the highlight of her day, a beacon of light in the monotony of hospital life. She could feel it in her bones—the bouquet was coming. Her heart raced in anticipation, not for the flowers themselves, but for the hidden message tucked within them. The candy.

The sound of the door opening snapped her from her thoughts. The nurse entered, carrying the yellow daisies. Hanna's face lit up, and she immediately reached out to take them, her fingers trembling with urgency. She barely heard the nurse's gentle comment about the flowers as she searched through the petals. Her breath caught when she found it—the small yellow wrapper nestled carefully between the blooms.

She held it up, her fingers tightening around the candy as a wave of determination surged through her. She knew it was him. He had sent these flowers, day after day, keeping her spirits alive even when she felt like giving up. But she couldn't wait any longer. She had to see him, to thank him, to ask why he hadn't come in person.

Before the nurse could react, Hanna swung her legs over the bed and stood, gripping the bouquet in one hand and the candy in the other.

"Hanna!" the nurse called out in alarm.
"What are you doing? You can't—"

"I have to," Hanna interrupted, her voice firm despite her trembling limbs.

Ignoring the nurse's protests, she stumbled toward the door. The nurse's shouts echoed behind her, but she didn't care. Her feet carried her forward, down the hallway and toward the stairwell, her heart pounding with adrenaline.

"Hanna, stop! You'll hurt yourself!" the nurse cried, panic rising in her voice.

But Hanna didn't stop. Her bare feet hit the cold stairwell steps as she descended hurriedly, clutching the bouquet tightly to her chest. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her legs burning with effort, but she pushed through the pain. She had to find him. She couldn't let him slip away again.

Jake stood by the entrance, his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. The hospital lobby buzzed faintly around him, but he barely noticed. His mind was a storm of conflicting emotions—relief that Hanna had been receiving the flowers, guilt that he hadn't been brave enough to face her, and a yearning he couldn't quite put into words.

Just as he turned toward the exit, ready to leave, a voice called out behind him.

"Wait!"

He froze, his entire body tensing at the sound. It was her. He would recognize her voice anywhere.

Slowly, Jake turned around, his heart thundering in his chest. His eyes widened as they landed on Hanna, standing just a few feet away. Her hospital gown peeked out from under her jacket, her hair slightly disheveled from her frantic run. She clutched the bouquet tightly in one hand, the candy glinting in the other.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. They simply stared at each other, the world around them falling silent. Nurses hurried toward Hanna from behind, their voices distant and muffled, but she didn't turn to acknowledge them. Her gaze was fixed solely on Jake, a mixture of relief, anger, gratitude, and vulnerability shining in her eyes.

Jake's lips parted as if to say something, but no words came. His emotions churned within him, too raw and overwhelming to articulate. He took a small step forward, his eyes searching hers for answers he didn't know how to ask.

Hanna's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her fingers tightening around the bouquet. She wanted to speak, to ask him why he had stayed away, why he hadn't come to see her sooner. But as she looked at him, standing there with the same quiet intensity she remembered from the rooftop, her voice faltered.

The space between them felt both vast and impossibly small, charged with unspoken words and emotions neither of them could fully express. They were separated by only a few feet, but the weight of their shared history, their struggles, and their unspoken feelings made the distance feel infinite.

The nurses finally caught up to Hanna, their hands gently gripping her shoulders.
"Hanna, you need to come back," one of them said, her tone firm but kind.
"You're not supposed to be out of bed."

But Hanna didn't move. Her feet stayed rooted to the ground, her eyes locked on Jake's.
"Just a moment," she said softly, her voice trembling with resolve.

Jake swallowed hard, his hands still buried in his pockets. His heart ached at the sight of her, so fragile yet so determined. He wanted to close the distance between them, to hold her, to tell her everything that had been weighing on his heart. But he couldn't move. He could only stare, his emotions written plainly on his face.

And so they stood there, caught in a moment suspended between hope and fear, between longing and uncertainty. The world around them blurred into insignificance, leaving only the two of them—two souls separated by a few steps and a lifetime of unspoken feelings.