It's annoying - really, really annoying how easy it is for people to just pick her up and move her about as soon as she loses momentum. And yet, she does not protest when Adora repositions her into her lap; but neither does she make any move to do anything further. Her tail just curls up close, the entire length of it some degree of sodden and damp and continuing to become more so through the water spilled all over the floor.
She scoffs at least, at Adora's offer to She-ra the bathroom back into working order. We'll just add that to your list of skills, she thinks to herself sarcastically. She's proven she can't trust herself with words tonight. She-ra, Princess of Indoor Plumbing Repair.
She doesn't get the lack of anger at the mess and destruction, either. Or the distinct lack of forthcoming punishments. But - whatever, they were Adora's family. Their idea of a bad night was probably something stupid like--
--Like finding out their daughter was alive, trying to spend time with her, and then spending the evening cleaning up after her guest's dumb emotional baggage.
Melog phases through Adora's parents, re-forming in a large size before them in the bathroom. They warble something, and Catra's lips draw tight, and then their head presses gently against Adora's parents, ushering them out. Melog will help make the tea. Catra never does things like that, and Melog's curious to learn.
Add that to the list of bad things on their evening, Catra supposes. Being bossed around and stalked by an alien surely belonged up there.
She wants to let her face push against Adora's palms, now that everyone is gone; wants to lean forward and rest her head on her shoulder; wants to accept the comfort being offered and let herself relax into it.
Instead she pulls away, her hands rising to grab Adora's wrists. Adora's looking at her with that -- that face, the one that could fool anyone into thinking she cared about them (--she does care, Catra argues to herself. Smart choice or not, despite everything, Adora loves her.), and Catra can't look her in the eyes.
"Don't," she croaks, pushing Adora's hands away. She wants them back so badly it aches. "Just. Just don't. Okay? Just leave it. Please."
She just needs a minute to put herself back together, and to rebuild her defenses. Because right now; sitting soaked and tired in Adora's lap, the anger washed away in the energy of their struggle, she feels vulnerable and small. And she can't have that.
no subject
She scoffs at least, at Adora's offer to She-ra the bathroom back into working order. We'll just add that to your list of skills, she thinks to herself sarcastically. She's proven she can't trust herself with words tonight. She-ra, Princess of Indoor Plumbing Repair.
She doesn't get the lack of anger at the mess and destruction, either. Or the distinct lack of forthcoming punishments. But - whatever, they were Adora's family. Their idea of a bad night was probably something stupid like--
--Like finding out their daughter was alive, trying to spend time with her, and then spending the evening cleaning up after her guest's dumb emotional baggage.
Melog phases through Adora's parents, re-forming in a large size before them in the bathroom. They warble something, and Catra's lips draw tight, and then their head presses gently against Adora's parents, ushering them out. Melog will help make the tea. Catra never does things like that, and Melog's curious to learn.
Add that to the list of bad things on their evening, Catra supposes. Being bossed around and stalked by an alien surely belonged up there.
She wants to let her face push against Adora's palms, now that everyone is gone; wants to lean forward and rest her head on her shoulder; wants to accept the comfort being offered and let herself relax into it.
Instead she pulls away, her hands rising to grab Adora's wrists. Adora's looking at her with that -- that face, the one that could fool anyone into thinking she cared about them (--she does care, Catra argues to herself. Smart choice or not, despite everything, Adora loves her.), and Catra can't look her in the eyes.
"Don't," she croaks, pushing Adora's hands away. She wants them back so badly it aches. "Just. Just don't. Okay? Just leave it. Please."
She just needs a minute to put herself back together, and to rebuild her defenses. Because right now; sitting soaked and tired in Adora's lap, the anger washed away in the energy of their struggle, she feels vulnerable and small. And she can't have that.