Weirdly Normal but Not?

You settle onto the couch, your new petite frame making you sink deeper into the cushions than you're used to. David sits across from you in the armchair, still looking shell-shocked as he runs his fingers through his dark hair.

"What exactly did you see happen?" you ask, your new lilting voice still foreign to your ears. "When I... changed."

David lets out a long breath and leans forward, elbows on his knees. His eyes scan your transformed body once more before meeting your gaze.

"Everything," he says quietly. "One second you were you—Matt—standing there in your boxers and t-shirt looking hungover as hell. Then you just..." He gestures vaguely with his hands. "Started shrinking. Like, I literally watched you lose almost a foot of height in seconds."

He rubs his jaw, stubble rasping against his palm. "Your hair started growing out, changing color right before my eyes—from brown to this copper-red. Your face just... shifted. Cheekbones, jaw, everything softened and rearranged itself."

You touch your face unconsciously, feeling the unfamiliar delicate bone structure beneath your fingertips.

"And your body," David continues, his voice dropping slightly. "Your shoulders narrowed, your waist pinched in, hips widened. And, uh—" he gestures awkwardly toward your chest, "—those appeared."

You glance down at the modest swell beneath your oversized t-shirt and feel heat rushing to your cheeks.

"The whole thing took maybe thirty seconds," David says, shaking his head in disbelief. "You were moaning the entire time, like it was—" He stops abruptly, a flush creeping up his neck. "Like it was intense."

The memory floods back to you—that overwhelming sensation of your body reshaping itself, the bizarre feeling of your most intimate anatomy inverting and reforming. You shift uncomfortably on the couch, suddenly very aware of the alien emptiness between your legs.

"Did you see anything else?" you press. "Like, was there a light or something that caused it?"

David frowns. "No light. Just you changing. I thought I was hallucinating at first, but..." He gestures at your transformed body. "Obviously not."

He studies you with an intensity that makes you self-conscious. "So what do we do now? How long do you think this lasts?"

The way he asks makes your stomach twist. There's something in his tone—not quite hope, but a kind of fascination that suggests he's not entirely upset by your new appearance.

"I don't know," you admit, tugging at the neckline of your now-massive t-shirt as it slips off your shoulder again. "I need to figure out how to change back."

David nods slowly, but there's hesitation in his eyes. "Right. Change back. Of course." He clears his throat. "But in the meantime, you can't exactly go around in Matt's clothes. They're falling off you."

He stands suddenly, as if seized by inspiration. "Clara left some clothes here last time she crashed on the couch after that party. She's taller than you are now, but her stuff might fit better than yours. Want me to grab them?"

You realize with a start that he's right—you're swimming in Matt's clothes, and if you're going to figure this out, you need to at least be able to move around without tripping over your own pant legs.