A story in which the main character is referred to as you told from the?

The rain hammered against the grimy windowpane, a relentless percussion against the cracked glass. You sat hunched over the worn table, a mug of lukewarm tea in your hand, the steam curling up like a silent, ghostly plea. The flickering gaslight cast long shadows across the room, dancing across the peeling wallpaper, creating a grotesque ballet of shadows that mirrored the storm brewing inside you.

It had been three years since you'd last seen him. Three years since his laughter had filled this room, his hand had rested on yours, his eyes, those deep green eyes, had met yours with a promise whispered on the wind. He was gone, vanished like a wisp of smoke, leaving behind only a faint scent of memory and a gaping hole in your heart.

The door creaked open, a gust of wind carrying the scent of wet earth and something else, something familiar. You turned, your heart skipping a beat, your breath catching in your throat.

There he stood, silhouetted against the storm, his face a mask of shadows. It was him. It had to be.

"You," he whispered, his voice a low rumble, thick with an emotion you couldn't decipher.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis, the rain outside growing louder, the shadows in the room dancing in a frenzy. He took a step forward, and you felt the pull of his gravity, the magnetic pull of a force you thought you'd left behind.

"It's been so long," you said, your voice a mere whisper, lost in the deafening roar of your own heartbeat.

"I know," he said, stepping closer, his eyes finally emerging from the shadows, the same green, deep and unfathomable as ever.

He was here. He was back. And you, despite the shattered pieces of your heart, the ghosts of the past, the storm raging inside you, found yourself reaching out to him, your fingers trembling as they grazed his.

The rain continued to fall, a relentless symphony of nature's sorrow. But you, in that moment, were not alone. The storm inside you had found its eye, a calm center in the whirlwind of emotions. He was back. And maybe, just maybe, the sun would rise again.