Klaus was angling for Obi-Wan to chase him, and of course he does no such thing. His mouth and brows turn down into a pout, and when the robe lands on his head, he lets out a huff and stomps his foot.

“You are infuriating,” he says, mostly playful as he slips into the robe and pulls it closed, tying it only because Obi-Wan has lost the privilege of looking at his spectacular tits.

He lifts his chin and strides by Obi-Wan, striding over to the small table by the kitchen and primly taking a seat, tossing his long hair over one shoulder.

“I’d like to be waited on,” he says, managing to keep a straight face. “Treated like a real lady.”