Strange girl at the park

The park was quiet—just wind, leaves, and the faint echo of her shoes on the path. Mirelith clutched her library books tighter to her chest, sleeves tugged over her hands, hoodie drawn low over her face. Her steps were small, careful, like she was afraid of leaving a footprint too loud.

Then... the first drop.

She paused, blinking up. A second drop hit her cheek. Then a third. Her breath caught.

“Oh no...”

Thunder cracked somewhere in the distance, and the sky opened all at once. Rain came fast—too fast. It soaked through her clothes in seconds, her books pressed against her body for warmth that wasn’t there. Her sweater clung. Her skirt got heavy. Her legs trembled.

“N-Not now, please… not here…”

She turned in frantic circles—no awning, no tree cover, nowhere to hide. The water ran down her neck, between her shoulder blades, dripping lower. Her spine arched instinctively. She gasped, her knees buckling slightly.

The first tendril slid from under her skirt.

“Nngh—n-no...! S-stay in…!”

Another pushed out from her sleeve, curling lazily in the air like it had all the time in the world. Her hands snapped to her sides, trying to hold everything in, but her fingers shook. More slipped free. They glistened, slick and pulsing, twitching in the downpour.

“I-I can’t… stop it…”

Her breath hitched. Her thighs pressed together. Her vision blurred—rain and heat and shame blending until she couldn’t tell which drops were falling from the sky and which were rising inside her. One tentacle brushed her neck. She shivered violently.