Obi-Wan Kenobi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
larger_world) wrote2021-03-04 02:44 pm
larger_world) wrote2021-03-04 02:44 pm
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Even after all this time in Darrow, coming up on one full cycle soon, Obi-Wan hasn't adjusted to the more common sleep schedule of this city. It's a benefit that Klaus, too, stays up quite late into the night given how much time they spend together, but he prefers to sleep in, while Obi-Wan is usually awake before the sun rises. They've adjusted to this schedule, however, with Obi-Wan meditating or otherwise busying himself, allowing Klaus to sleep as long as he likes.
He deserves it, Obi-Wan thinks, after how little truly restful sleep he seems to get. And so he lets Klaus sleep in the mornings, laying alongside him, sometimes meditating, sometimes reading. He rises when he needs to, without waking Klaus, and when Klaus wakes, he joins Obi-Wan in whatever he may be doing.
There are mornings they wake each other on purpose, but that's an entirely different scenario.
Today, as Obi-Wan rises from sleep, he can sense something is wrong. Perhaps wrong isn't the right word. Something is different. There's an unfamiliarity in the Force, as if he's accessing it in a different way than he used to, and his own body feels ungainly, unrecognizable.
When he opens his eyes, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Klaus is still sleeping behind him, hair spread out across the pillow, his brow smoothed. Obi-Wan smiles fondly, reaching over to push a curl from Klaus's forehead and it's the sight of his hand that gives him pause. Where he should have a wide palm, blunt fingers, the hand he sees now is small, delicate, the fingers long and slender. He's still in control of it, but Obi-Wan stares down at the fingers, then moves slowly into a seated position.
As he does, the blankets fall away. Hair brushes the tops of his shoulders and he reaches up to touch it, then touches his suddenly smooth face. Brushing his hands over his face, he finds his nose different, thinner than it usually is. He touches his mouth and finds softer lips, then his teeth, somehow relieved that one crooked tooth remains.
His hands move over the rest of his body, his palms running over breasts he knows he hadn't had when falling asleep the night before. Obi-Wan's heart is still calm enough, he's more perplexed than anything, and he pushes the blanket back further, looking at the rest of his body appraisingly.
It seems somehow, overnight, he's found himself in a woman's body.
He deserves it, Obi-Wan thinks, after how little truly restful sleep he seems to get. And so he lets Klaus sleep in the mornings, laying alongside him, sometimes meditating, sometimes reading. He rises when he needs to, without waking Klaus, and when Klaus wakes, he joins Obi-Wan in whatever he may be doing.
There are mornings they wake each other on purpose, but that's an entirely different scenario.
Today, as Obi-Wan rises from sleep, he can sense something is wrong. Perhaps wrong isn't the right word. Something is different. There's an unfamiliarity in the Force, as if he's accessing it in a different way than he used to, and his own body feels ungainly, unrecognizable.
When he opens his eyes, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Klaus is still sleeping behind him, hair spread out across the pillow, his brow smoothed. Obi-Wan smiles fondly, reaching over to push a curl from Klaus's forehead and it's the sight of his hand that gives him pause. Where he should have a wide palm, blunt fingers, the hand he sees now is small, delicate, the fingers long and slender. He's still in control of it, but Obi-Wan stares down at the fingers, then moves slowly into a seated position.
As he does, the blankets fall away. Hair brushes the tops of his shoulders and he reaches up to touch it, then touches his suddenly smooth face. Brushing his hands over his face, he finds his nose different, thinner than it usually is. He touches his mouth and finds softer lips, then his teeth, somehow relieved that one crooked tooth remains.
His hands move over the rest of his body, his palms running over breasts he knows he hadn't had when falling asleep the night before. Obi-Wan's heart is still calm enough, he's more perplexed than anything, and he pushes the blanket back further, looking at the rest of his body appraisingly.
It seems somehow, overnight, he's found himself in a woman's body.