"Okay," Adora simply answers, aware that Catra's teasing but content to ignore it. It might be silly, but the promise of a routine, something unchanging between the two of them, means the world to her right now. "That sounds pretty nice, actually."
She slowly makes her way up the back of Catra's neck, where the short fur of her neck thickens into the sodden bird's-nest of dark hair. She's careful as she knows how to be around this spot, the ghost-image of the chip once planted there enough to make her jaw clench-- and she seeks to offset it somewhat, by pressing her lips to Catra's cheek.
Adora's hands don't linger there long, but her lips hover in place a few moments, as she works to squeeze the wetness from Catra's unkempt hair.
"Should I pat down your ears, too?" She knows approaching that part of Catra without prior warning can earn her a new set of scratches, even on a good day.
no subject
She slowly makes her way up the back of Catra's neck, where the short fur of her neck thickens into the sodden bird's-nest of dark hair. She's careful as she knows how to be around this spot, the ghost-image of the chip once planted there enough to make her jaw clench-- and she seeks to offset it somewhat, by pressing her lips to Catra's cheek.
Adora's hands don't linger there long, but her lips hover in place a few moments, as she works to squeeze the wetness from Catra's unkempt hair.
"Should I pat down your ears, too?" She knows approaching that part of Catra without prior warning can earn her a new set of scratches, even on a good day.