It was one of those evenings that hung heavy with the promise of romance, even for someone as single as me. Valentine's Day was fast approaching, and the air seemed to buzz with a peculiar kind of magic. As I strolled through the bustling streets, lost in a reverie of daydreams and bookish fantasies, my eyes were drawn to a quaint flower stall. An old lady, her face etched with wisdom and kindness, stood behind an array of fresh roses.

"These are gorgeous and smell divine," I said, inhaling their intoxicating fragrance.

She smiled warmly. "Yes, they are. These are a special kind of rose that blooms only on Valentine's Day."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" I marvelled at the vibrant blooms, their petals so perfect they seemed almost otherworldly. In my awe, I didn't notice the thorn that pricked my skin until a sharp sting made me flinch. I glanced down to see a tiny scratch on my hand, blood welling up to form the initial 'R'.

The old lady chuckled softly. "The angels above have blessed you. You will find love soon," she said, her voice tinged with an almost mystical certainty.

Bewildered, I paid for a bunch of the enchanting roses and turned to leave. As I clutched the bouquet, pondering the strange encounter, dark clouds gathered overhead. The first fat drops of rain splattered onto the pavement, quickly escalating into a torrential downpour. I darted for cover, my thoughts a jumble of confusion and wonder.

Just then, a strong hand grabbed me, pulling me into the shelter of a nearby awning. Startled, I looked up to see a stranger standing close, his eyes intense and penetrating. In the chaos of our sudden proximity, a thorn from the roses scratched his hand, mirroring the mark on mine. He glanced at his hand, his eyes widening momentarily, and then he bolted, disappearing into the rain-soaked night.

"I am sorry'', I whispered to myself, the words hanging in the air unfinished, just like the encounter.

Stunned, I watched him go, unable to comprehend what had just transpired. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear, excitement, and an inexplicable sense of destiny. Clutching the now slightly battered roses, I stepped back into the rain, the stranger's fleeting presence lingering like a whispered promise.