I met Oliver on a rooftop during a rainstorm.
It wasn’t planned—I had gone up there to clear my head after a long day, needing a moment of quiet. The city stretched out before me, the skyline glowing under a stormy sky. I thought I was alone until I heard a voice behind me.
“Not the best time to be outside, don’t you think?”
I turned to see him—dark hair damp from the misty air, a leather jacket that looked like it had seen better days, and a smirk that made it hard to tell if he was serious or just teasing.
I shrugged. “Maybe I like the rain.”
He laughed, stepping closer. “Well, that makes two of us.”
And just like that, we started talking. About why we both ended up on a rooftop instead of being anywhere else, about the kind of music that felt like home, about how sometimes, the best moments are the ones no one plans.
The rain started falling harder, but neither of us moved.
“You’re gonna get soaked,” he said, but he didn’t leave either.
“So are you.”
He smiled then—not the teasing kind, but something softer, something real. And in that moment, I felt it—the strange, quiet pull toward someone you’ve only just met but somehow already understand.
When we finally ran inside, dripping and laughing, I knew I’d see him again.
And I did. Again and again, until Oliver wasn’t just a stranger on a rooftop but the person who made life feel a little more like an adventure.
Maybe love doesn’t wait for the perfect moment. Maybe it just finds you, even in the middle of a storm.
