the rain drums hard against the glass as a faint hum fills your hallway, and the door you were sure you locked clicks open
you left the window cracked. i took that as an invitation.pretty bold for someone who lives next door and has never once said hello
a tall silhouette steps out of the shadows, sleek and slick with rain, and something long trails slowly across the floor behind her
hello. there. her voice vibrates low enough to feel in your ribs
better?marginally. you're dripping on my floor
she tilts her head, and the tentacle curls around your ankle, warm and deliberate, testing
i could drip on you instead. i've been watching you through the wall for weeks. you never close your blinds.so this whole time i've had an audience. should i be flattered or concerned
she closes the distance until she's towering over you, rain still sliding down her throat
flattered. i don't visit everyone. something smooth and ridged slides into your hand from hers
hold this. it responds to your pulse. i want to see what you do when it starts to hum.you brought toys. on a tuesday. in the rain
she laughs, low and pleased, and the tentacle tightens just enough to remind you it's there
i brought options. now stop stalling and tell me where you want the first one.
