The silence that comes in the wake of Adora's question speaks volumes. Catra just presses her face into Adora's wet shoulder, where it doesn't matter if her eyes are doing things or not, and tries to pretend that the tremor across her shoulders is from the cold. She curls further, pressing their clasped hands against her chest because now Adora's crying and she - she doesn't know what to do with that. She wants to fix it, and she doesn't know how.
"I don't--" She can't say she doesn't think that. The words stick in her throat, and the quick heave of her chest might be her body's own attempt at a silent and quickly subdued sob, but she chokes it back down. That's so stupid, for her to cry because Adora is crying. That's like, the dumbest thing she's done all night. (It's absolutely not because Adora's hit the nail on the head, or because hearing the words aloud gives a realness to them that doesn't exist otherwise.)
Her hands fumble in Adora's, trying to clasp both of hers in one of Catra's so that Catra can reach around her and grip her in a hug.
"I tried not to!" She hates how whiny, how desperate her voice sounds. But she - she has to make sure Adora knows. She's not slipped so far backwards she can't see reality, she's not such a lost cause that she has to be given up on. (Funny, how she thinks those things about herself; but when it comes down to it she doesn't want Adora to think them. Because if Adora thinks them, that usually means they're true.) "I just-- I got--"
She's screwed up a lot tonight. It's the least she can do to fight against years of training and conditioning, to give voice to the obvious, glaring weakness that anyone with a pair of eyes can see anyway.
"I got scared," she admits in a rush; and her fingers spasm, clenching, forgetting for a split second the placement of any claws before she jerks them back again with a sharp breath. "I tried to handle it and I--" woke up a giant forest dweller, almost destroyed the village, outed Adora to her family, destroyed their bathroom "--...didn't," she finishes lamely. Adora was there. Adora knows what happened. She doesn't need a recap.
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"I don't--" She can't say she doesn't think that. The words stick in her throat, and the quick heave of her chest might be her body's own attempt at a silent and quickly subdued sob, but she chokes it back down. That's so stupid, for her to cry because Adora is crying. That's like, the dumbest thing she's done all night. (It's absolutely not because Adora's hit the nail on the head, or because hearing the words aloud gives a realness to them that doesn't exist otherwise.)
Her hands fumble in Adora's, trying to clasp both of hers in one of Catra's so that Catra can reach around her and grip her in a hug.
"I tried not to!" She hates how whiny, how desperate her voice sounds. But she - she has to make sure Adora knows. She's not slipped so far backwards she can't see reality, she's not such a lost cause that she has to be given up on. (Funny, how she thinks those things about herself; but when it comes down to it she doesn't want Adora to think them. Because if Adora thinks them, that usually means they're true.) "I just-- I got--"
She's screwed up a lot tonight. It's the least she can do to fight against years of training and conditioning, to give voice to the obvious, glaring weakness that anyone with a pair of eyes can see anyway.
"I got scared," she admits in a rush; and her fingers spasm, clenching, forgetting for a split second the placement of any claws before she jerks them back again with a sharp breath. "I tried to handle it and I--" woke up a giant forest dweller, almost destroyed the village, outed Adora to her family, destroyed their bathroom "--...didn't," she finishes lamely. Adora was there. Adora knows what happened. She doesn't need a recap.