kiss in the rain - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
There is something so heavenly about a kiss in the rain, a tender moment that just won't wait. It is that burst of love that is expressed, not caring if the water soaks through to chill the skin. It is a connection that shows the strength of the feeling, the mutual need. It is a rebellion against the elements. Nature can bring the rain but our inner sunshine comes through just the same.
In the rain Ryan's hair becomes one with his face, wetly draped over the bone structure that drives me crazy. His expression is serious. I wonder if he knows how crazy that drives me, how it makes me want to feel every inch of his skin. At this moment, here at the busy intersection, cars rushing past with wipers in full swing, we can't. I pull his hand to stop him and move in front, toe to toe. He rolls his eyes in that way he does when he's really happy but feeling too macho to show it and we kiss. The passersby melt away, the traffic too, and the moment is ours. For the kiss it's as if we've been transported somewhere heavenly and perhaps if it weren't for the cold New York rain I might believe we had.
You kissed the droplets from my lips, and I felt your lips smile against mine. You swept my hair aside and kissed me just over the collarbone. You nibbled at my ear, and then sank your self into my arms. I hung my fingers on your waistband, dragging you closer. You buried your face in my shoulder curve, your hands flexing around my back. You gave a reduced groan. “I love you,” into my hair. “The happiest moment that I actually remember being.” Just then I hear a horn and find myself standing on a road waiting for a bus in the cool drizzling rain falling on my face. The insane rain had the most lovable gesture embracing me in the chilled gust of wind reminding me of you.
The puddles that lie dark on the tarmac are as good as those in The Magician's Nephew, but instead of transporting me to a new fantastical land, they take me back to that summer storm when Ben first told me how he felt. Those drops weren't just magical, they were divine. Each one washed away an unseen pain, a doubt, an angst. For the time our lips were locked together the world itself ceased to exist, blurred and indistinct as a wet painting left out in the torrent that fell from the dark cloud above. When we pulled back his eyes were like every fantasy I'd ever had of him, every moment I had wished could exist between the two of us. The kiss, the look, a stolen moment that could have just washed away but instead was set, colour-fast, indelible.
The rain runs down our faces to where our lips meet, each of us tasting the cold drops. Instead of detracting from the intensity of the moment it brings us to new heights. Ben pushes his lips in more firmly and the wave that runs through me is intoxicating, making my head swim as I pull back to take in his beautiful face.
Under the umbrella it sounds like that day we sheltered in the bird watching hut, peeking out of the narrow window to watch the surface of the lake become a riot of mini-water plumes and concentric ripples. Amy tilts her head toward mine and without thinking my hand tucks her strawberry hair behind her ear. Then we kiss like there was no choice, kiss like each other is the finest thing we'll ever taste. She is my champagne and I am her hazelnut latte and the wetness that soaks through our jeans just doesn't matter.
The rain hammers down as if it means to beat the entire city into the sidewalk. People pass in frenetic chaos, everyone single minded for their destination - all except two people who have let their umbrella's fall to the wet street and be blown by the wind. They are bound in a kiss that is so tender the world should stop on its axis and take note of their love. Then they walk and in hand, the droplets beading their hair.
The street is deserted save a couple locked in a kiss, their faces dripping with the wintry gift from the clouds. He holds his hands gently to her hair and she rests her hands on his black windbreaker, sodden though it must be. Tucker smiles, and glances to the sky that promises more, the hammering in the window sounding more like a round of applause for their love.