She knows it, but it's still a relief to hear the words from Adora's own lips. Especially after everything she's done today. Especially after fighting.

Catra lets her chin lift, trusting in Adora, and a quiet and soft rumble begins unbidden at the base of her throat as she nuzzles into the hand, eyes sliding shut before Adora even kisses her. And then she does, and it's soft and chaste and reassuring, a silent promise between them, and Catra's too tired to be embarrassed about or put an end to the comforted and loved purr.

"Don't laugh," she mutters, raising a hand to Adora's on her chin, urging her hand flat against her cheek so she can lean into it and soak up the moment, the affection, the love.