Pluviophile Quotes

Pluviophile - I remember how we began – you smiling, me falling, like the rain.

pluviophile

A pluviophile is someone who finds joy and peace in the sound and smell of rain, and may enjoy activities such as reading, drinking tea, or listening to music on a rainy day.

The only difference is that you care about me more than you care about yourself.

I´m okay is a way of saying I´m not.

I catch me grinning as I stare at the screen. “Ash blonde.” That´s how I saved her. I should re-save her. Should I? Sleepin´ Beauty, I type and delete it giving me an inner slap. Scar I use instead. I switch between apps and end up on her profile picture. Fuck. I put my phone in my pocket, annoyed with myself. I catch me grinning as I stare at the screen. “Ash blonde.” That´s how I saved her. I should re-save her. Should I? Sleepin´ Beauty, I type and delete it giving me an inner slap. Scar I use instead. I switch between apps and end up on her profile picture. Fuck. I put my phone in my pocket, annoyed with myself.

I wanted her to hear. Because she wanted to listen. Because for a while no one listened.

She knows that side of me most girls hate, and she wants to get to know me despite it.

From the lost boy that lost part of me today.

Kai Dark wants me to do a mindfulness exercise? I mean the concert was an extreme situation. He basically had no other choice as to calm me. And at that bar he grounded me too. But here I could easily leave. But he wants to help me.

I wouldn´t buy you a flower.” He states. “Of course, you wouldn´t.” I scoff. Silence. “I would have sent you.. white ones.” He says his voice clear. What? “I would have bought you a bouquet of white roses.” He repeats. My heart stops and my face falls. “And I would have given you them in person.” He adds his voice soft. Silence.

And here on this staircase, I feel like we must go through the natural disasters that we create ourselves to get to Nirvana. We hurt each other to heal. Which is a beautiful and painful truth.

Because the thing that woke Wendy was Peter sobbing. I can see his body shaking. And his attempts to suppress it. I wish he didn´t have the need to do that in front of me.

But then she was there when I felt nothing. When I listened to the hellbent. Like an angel she was there. But no angel exists in hell. Only fallen ones.

She let me cry not knowing it´s about her. It´s all about her.

I opened up for fucks´s sake. And she kicked me in the balls. I´ll never do that again. I hope he breaks her heart. Cause she fucking spit on mine. And if he won´t break her I fucking will.

Why do you care to save me but not to like me?

I can drive” he says. “You can´t” I say sourly and take it out of his hand. “I can´t.” He repeats in agreement. He rubs his forehead. “Fuck” He curses. “You..” he starts but says nothing more. He just opens his mouth just to shut it again. “Then you should have thought before drinking idiot.” I snap. He steps towards me, getting in my face. “Then you should have thought before kissing him in front of me.” He spits and snatches the bottle out of my grip.

Maybe I refer him as pain too. Maybe. Maybe, I like pain as much as he does.

My favorite girl to play with. My favorite lost boy to get played by.

I kept kicking stones to keep my eyes off her. After I stared at her the whole night. Like it would make the fact go away. She was fucking beautiful. And not just that night. I even waited for her to enter her room. Like, who the fuck am I? And who the fuck is she? And why did I keep that stupid rock?

I texted her. And we kept texting. All night long. Not that I could have slept anyway. It was just some texts. Nothing more. I still hate her. Still don´t want her in. It´s just part of the game. Getting in her head. Under her skin. Until I stick my knife inside her and twist it until she begs me to kill her. Foreplay I call it.

Our fighting became teasing. And today I threw her into the pool. Because she said my name. She never did that before. I liked how it sounded coming from her lips. Then I thought about her lips on mine and around my dick.. I wanted to taste hers.

She smells like a summer night, the seaside and hot rain. I´m so fucked.

Her Hook is losing control. But she doesn´t know, there are many Hooks you´ve got. But she would discover soon enough. Neverland does that to you. Show you your fears. And I knew I would let her lose it. The control she wants so bad. I could tell she always needs a plan. A control freak. But out of fear and not perfectionism. But you must face your Hook to get rid of it. I bet she needs a little stab to reach that and I´m pleased to help. Because she has to understand she has nothing in control. You must rip your wings to fly. And I´m gonna rip her until she´s a flying devil. There´s no liberty without a great pain. The pain makes you fly. Makes you survive. I´m gonna teach her.

But deep down he knew there was a Tinker. One that could make him fly. With stardust. But he didn´t want to find her. He knew he couldn´t anyway. He knew well enough that what makes you fly can make you fall. And all he wanted was the now and his lost boys. No Wendy´s. No Tinker. No love. No family. No growing up. He wanted the lost ones. The ones like him.

He´s the tallest of em all. The tallest lost boy. But I´m not sure if he´s lost at all.

Pain Rain An old legend says that there is a place where it rains only. Where everything is peaceful. And where the rain is so loud that the pain inside falls silent. It is being said that there lives a creature that carries so much pain, which can only be relieved by the rain. That is why the creature has never known any other place. It was too hurtful to move away from the familiar safe space..

But I still remember the darkness I saw in his eyes. Remember the saltiness of his kisses, filled with hot tears. Feel the rain on my skin like his hands on me. See him every time I close my eyes and feel him in the rain, as if he´s crying on me. Feel the pain when he kissed me. I still feel him everywhere. I remember everything like it happened yesterday. And he happened to me like it was yesterday.

Pluviophile (n.) a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace during rainy days.

Petrichor (n.) the smell of earth after rain.

Does she even know Neverland is all about breaking rules? That it´s about everything she´s afraid of?

We sat in the rain but didn´t talk. I liked her company. I caught her looking at me. And unfortunately, I had to look at her too. Even though I forced myself not to.

Most people can´t separate sex and love..” He breathes. “So, I don´t. Mostly.” He says. I raise my eyebrow. “You don´t fuck?” I ask. “I do.” He says. “But I choose wisely who I fuck.” He adds. I frown. “Sex connects.” He begins. “You exchange energies. Like plugging your phone. You transfer your traumas, fears, and emotions. That´s a bond. You connect emotionally, spiritually, and energetically.” He says.

So, I stayed with her and watched her sleep. I had to make myself stare at her. Because if I wouldn´t I would have touched her hair or face. Or worse lay beside her. I didn´t want any of that. So, I just looked at her.

I watched her. She looked like Sleeping Beauty. Clothed in oversized shirts. In mine. There was never beauty in sleep. But when I looked at her, I saw.

With me, she wasn´t so shy. Kinda liked that. The way she looked at me like she wants to kill me. Exactly what keeps my dick going. A pain in the arse that ash girl. She´s the most exciting I played with. I think it´s not hard to crack her, but to break her will be. Because I have a feeling, she can bear great pain. But I found the right buttons to push. She knew points in me too. I must give her that. Which was refreshing. I know there´s more in her. I just need to keep stabbing for her to stab back. And then, I´m closer to get what I want. Pain, scars, and blood. Because that´s what makes Pan fly without a fairy. I never had one. I learned other ways to keep me going. Who needs Tinker when I can kill Wendy´s?

They say Wendy´s can become lost girls. But for me, they never did.

They liked their silence. Sometimes they needed it more than their words. The bonds they made through their silence.

When I switch the lights on I glance out the window and see him walking down the street, kicking the stone. He waited for me to enter my room. For a guy I´ve heard the worst about, he´s kinda okay. Even more than that. She didn´t realize yet, but she was falling for him. Despite his rudeness. Because what she also didn´t realize was that he stopped being rude to her.

We haven´t talked once, but our eyes crossed a thousand times. I watched him talk to a girl. His gaze was no less hard than for me. For whatever reason I liked that fact. Maybe because he´s just as unfriendly to everyone else. Except Aidan and the others. Or maybe it would have sucked to see him smile at the girl. That´s when I realized I want to make him smile.

And I don´t know why we do it and why it´s a secret. And why we´re barely talking to each other when we clearly have a lot to talk about. But it seems like our thing. The thing no one knows. They think we don´t like each other. And in ways we don´t, but in ways we do. I think at least.

I´m glad I annoy you even in your dreams” I smile. His jaw flexes. And I try hard not to let my pleasure show too much. He´s dreaming about me?

He takes a black marker from the table and opens it with his teeth. With the cap in his mouth, he guides the pen to my Vans. I squirm, but he tugs on my foot to keep me still. I finally give in because I don´t want him to let go. He writes on the white margin. And I watch him, riveted. As if he were Salvador Dali, creating a masterpiece, my eyes follow his hand. Two words. “Sex Drive.

I must admit she surprised me. She sat in the rain. While the others were inside partying, she sat there and looked peaceful. I sat with her until I realized what the hell I was doing, so I left and got back to hating her because it was always just the six of us.

Even if she sat in the rain and didn´t care. Even if she looked beautiful with the rain on her skin. Even if I liked her in my hoodie. Even if I got curious. She´s no exception.

She tries to offend me, but I find it amusing. It´s sweet really. It´s too easy for me to make her mad. She´s shy and fights like a pup. Like a little fairy she tries to stick up. Pathetic.

It´s just I don´t like love. I think it´s useless. Love is nothing other than your ego. I don´t need to feed that.” He says and I smile. “What?” He nudges my leg. I shake my head grinning. “No, it´s just I can see it.” I say. “See what?” He rakes, frowning. “Your ego..” I squint my eyes at him. “It´s huuge. You really shouldn´t love anyone, it might burst..” I say and he kicks my leg. “Shut it.” He spits but grins. And I crack up.

But I knew I got under her skin. The pain will be greater then. Wendy´s get attached so easily. Tinkers and lost girls are the smart ones. But the latter are rare and the former a myth.

dying butterflies were a sign of love.

I just happened to sit next to her at the bar. I didn´t wait for the others to sit, so I could sit next to her.

But sometimes pain is the only thing greater than anxiety.

With one hand I play with the paper straw of my cocktail, and with the other I twist my ring and let it wander over my fingers. As I see, Kai stares at them so I stop. He frowns at me. I place it on the table. Instead, I start to pool off the paper of a beer and begin to wiggle with my leg as an outlet. Which I haven´t noticed until his hand on my knee stops me and I freeze. He doesn´t look at me when I look at him. There´s just his hand on my knee under the table. Grounding me. Calming me. As he joins the chat with the others, he squeezes slightly. I feel my pulse in every fiber of my body. I´m hyper aware. Anxiety all gone. Replaced by butterflies.

As fat raindrops patter against the windshield, I stop. And at the same moment I feel fingers on my Vans. Kai leans his head against the windowpane and has his arm between the door and the seat, tapping my sole.

He always grounds me. Drags me back to the now. And he doesn´t even try. He just lifts me to watch the sunset. I hope I can bring him the now sometime too.

What if I´ll knock you over?” I consider. He smiles. “You already have.” He says but goes on. “Now jump, Scar, or I´ll drag you down.” He jokes. You already have. I let go and jump. But with my heart first. And eyes wide open.

we were only ever almost.

The ticking never stops. But you can decide to not listen.” He says, tapping on his watch.

He´s a psycho but a gorgeous one. That´s why you fall for him.

What´s your biggest fear?

I never look at the time.” He adds. “Cause something as time doesn´t exist?” I guess. He smiles, narrowing his eyes. As if he didn´t expect me to get that. Dick. “Exactly.” He says nodding. “Time is a prison I don´t want to live in.” He adds. I smile. “Time is an illusion.” I quote Albert Einstein. His mouth twitches. “In Medias Res. Life is always in medias res.” He nods.

No one wants to deal with their shit. But we do it with fun.” He smirks. “And we know exactly what we´re running from.” He adds. “If it´s work. Our relation-ships. Parents. Ourselves. We know. We´re aware. Which most of the people aren´t. That´s why they never reach Neverland.” He speaks as if he tells me the meaning of life. And in a way he does.

We call em the lost boys.

It seems like the sunsets last longer in the summer.

So, what are you escaping from?” He asks, looking over. “What do you mean?” I ask frowning. He shrugs, looking ahead. “Isn´t there something you want to escape when you call a lost boy for your rescue?” He smirks.

Dancing.” He says. “You don´t dance.” I state. “You never asked.” He shrugs and takes my hand. “Neither did you.” I reply, thinking back to all those times I danced with Aidan. Especially those times I caught him watching us.

I didn´t know you read porn” he laughs. Then he quotes some parts. And I can´t deny how hot it makes me to hear the lines coming from his mouth. I can´t help but imagine doing those things with him. “Neither did I know that porn in books is actually a thing.” He adds. “It´s not porn.” I defend myself, knowing it is. Well, not just.

You can be lonely with friends, too.

That´s the problem with people with anxiety.” He says, and I look at him at the mention of my anxiety. I´ve never told him, and he just knows. “They are too afraid to live.” He says. “Kind of.” I agree. “Who lives with anxiety isn´t living, rather dead.” He points out. “But I rather live fast and die young than waiting for pension.” I say. “Know that feeling.” He agrees.

I´m not scared of death.” He says. “Everyone is scared of death.” I state. “It´s the source of every fear.” I add.

I´m scared of the way death comes. The exact moment. What you´ll feel. Think. See. I don´t care what comes after that, but I care about the way we go.” He explains. “So, basically, you are scared of death.” I say. “No, you don´t get it.” He says, shaking his head once. “Then tell me.” I demand. “Energy never dies, Lia. I don´t worry about the afterlife or hell. Everything is connected. But you still have to feel death.” He says.

When it rains, we both always find ourselves outside. At first, it was coincidences that we ran into each other, but by now, it has become a habit. A routine. Our thing. And he really does smell like rain. Not just because he was drained by it that day. He smells like it. All days. Or maybe I imagine him to. But either way. He smells like rain. And I like rain. A lot.

I noticed that she won´t really talk unless she´s spoken to, but once she does, she can talk for hours. She´s shy when she´s not comfortable with you. When she is, she bubbles and is goofy. She´s often quiet. But a good quiet. Enjoying silence. I don´t know how I know those things because she never told me.

We might have played dumb, but we knew exactly what was going on. We are a secret we both hold.

. I don´t know why we don´t hang out in front of our friends. Maybe I want to have her by myself. To protect her. From whatever. Maybe, myself. But if they knew, it would be real. And I wasn´t ready for real. If it keeps you happy. Keep it quiet.

It´s how I imagine dying peacefully. Where it is warm. And raining constantly. You hear the voice you love, and you fall asleep.

Just because Tink makes him fly doesn´t mean he chooses to be with her. On the contrary even, that´s why, he rejects her. He never knew how to fly. Now he was scared of finding out.

Is that what we are? A broken firecracker? Something that you know would be beautiful, but out of fear it would be ephemeral, you leave it untried?

I realize he does once again something from my list. Even though he won´t admit it, he´s doing it on purpose. He did the past months and still does. I have to smile that he has made a mental note of all the things I want to do. And maybe I´ll fulfill some of his wishes too. Maybe.

I wanted to jump and let the wind take me away. Away from Peter and his empty promises. Away from nothing.

And just like Sullivan in Monsters INC. freaked out when the door didn´t lead back to Boo. I freaked out, realizing the door won´t lead back to him anymore. It was just a door leading nowhere. A door without function. A dead end. Our end.

He realized how much she craved love. He saw it in her eyes. All he never wanted. Love. Love he couldn´t give. Love she looked for in another.

Maybe, in a heartbreak, you´re not murmuring the other but yourself. Maybe, what you love about love is the love you give. Maybe, you love yourself, but don´t notice. You just tell yourself it´s the others love. It´s never you. You lift them high above. You forget to let yourself fly. You can fly by your-self, not because of them. You just think they let you fly. But your own love does.

You think what you had with him was love, but he was your drug, and you were addicted. And I´m not your new drug to get high on.” He says and stands up. What? I blink at him in shock. He´s hurt. That´s why he says something like that. But he´s not my drug. “How am I supposed to get high on something I´ve never had?” I retort. But he stiffs a laugh and walks past me kicking the door open.

I didn´t fall for you, you fucking tripped me Scar.” He spits.

Addicts Scar. Addicts. That´s all we are.

The problem Lia.. is whatever I give or say to you is not enough for you. That´s your problem.

. “Love is just pain and nothing more. It´s in your head. It´s a trick. And as you said, it is like an addiction. Like a drug. Love acts similarly to a drug in your brain. Your reward center is stimulated. I mean, don´t people get what that means?” He´s furious. “It´s a fucking drug. Addictions are never good. So why acting like it´s not as bad as alcohol, pills, or cigarettes? Because it is.” He nods. “They act like it´s the best thing in the world.. because it numbs you. Just as every other drug. It´s not healthy. Never.” He rages. “Addiction is the memory of pleasure. And drugs work like that. You chase the feeling of the high. The rush and not the person. That´s not love.” He shrugs. “That´s not how it should be. It´s wrong. Something so pure shouldn´t destroy you. It shouldn´t be the reason to be alive for people.” He goes on. “Love is weakness.” He says. “Love is losing control by thinking you remain in control. But you don´t. There´s no control in drug use.” He shrugs. “Never.” He nods. “And people are stupid to think otherwise.” He barks. “And I already have enough addictions and drugs.” He tells me and shakes his head.

And love is defining. And I don´t want any limits.

Because I am an addict. An addict of love. Addicts that´s all we are.

I don´t want to hurt you, but those of your green eyes look so damn pretty when you cry.

I think my problem is that I´m afraid that if it´ll start, it´ll end.” I tell him no voice left. An almost soundless laugh escapes him. He gives me a tight smile. “As different as we may be, Scar, we´re pretty much the same.” He says his voice all husky. And that sums it up perfectly.

I won´t get close to you when I know I´ll break you. Because I don´t know how not to.

What I feel then, kills. And I don´t want to write about you in my books any-more.” He tells me upset. “I always had the girls and my feelings under control, but with you, it all went down. You dragged me down. And I don´t want this. I don´t want it.” He shakes his head. “But I want you.” He whispers.

But what if I like the pain of the break? What if I need it? To hold on. What then?

She´s the villain in my story. And I´ll be in hers.

Happy birthday fucker. You fucking lost. But not a bet. You lost her.

Because what she made me feel was her soul. And she tasted just like mine.

As I look at her now seemingly ice blue eyes, I can only think of one thing. A butterfly.

A deep blue butterfly trapped inside of her eyes. She might have said her eyes were green but for me they always been blue. The Butterfly Effect.