The rain fell down and burst in hot drafts against my skin, as behind the M25 the Sun cast beams of light through the rapidly dispersing clouds. My red-flowered summer dress clung to my skin as I walked through the easing veil of water. Even in this rain, the Earth beneath me felt dry, as if it hadn’t seen a single drop for years.
As the last drop splashed against my forehead, a warm breeze rolled in from the motorway and the boy of my dreams walked, dry, towards my soaking form. He chuckled as he saw my jaw drop. I didn’t think about drenching his thin white shirt as I ran and embraced him like a cliché romantic flick.
“Oh, God,” I whispered. "I thought I’d never see you again.
We stood in a single patch of sunlight. His arms felt softer than ever, his skin brighter, hair shining in the sunlight behind him, casting a halo round his head.
“I’m here,” he said, kissing me softly. “And I’m never leaving.”
I woke up to the February cold and longed more than ever for the Summer when I could see my love again.