Weathered. (summer fiction draft)

It's not really a secret on any night but tonight. I come here just to be. My belly presses against the cool concrete ledge that exfoliates my elbows. I can't decide if I'm comfortable, but my coffee is a warm blanket and the passing storm a cool breeze.

I keep looking over my shoulder, as if you'd be there. I want you to be there. I want to call you, to go to the house and bring you here, but it's more romantic knowing you don't know where I am.

The clean electricity skims my nose, and I listen to the sounds of the undisturbed city. The rain has stopped, but flashes still light the sky from end to end.

Even though I'm here by myself, I realize that I'm never alone now. My thoughts are tethered to you and they roam and swing, but they always wrap themselves back around you.

I've passed a long time here, and it's much colder. The storm clouds are indistinguishable now that the sun has set. I watch for headlights, afraid of being found. But I root myself further into the concrete as the silence confirms my solitude...

While it has taken me awhile to realize, I know I've been planted with you, too. We grow as separate trees but our roots have become entangled. Storms come and sometimes they claim a branch or two, but none will ever uproot my thoughts, me, from you...