Adora's lips tickle, and she won't stay in one place so that Catra can kiss her back any of the times she lands on her lips, and her eyes are too filled with tears and too covered by the rubbing of her hand to be able to track her, and somehow all of this just makes Catra laugh more. And she can't understand why her eyes are still doing this, why she feels so free and like her chest is filled with something light and fuzzy, until she realizes: she's happy. She's so happy, she's crying from it.

"Yes," she says emphatically; through the laughter and hitches of breath. There's no hope for the tears, not now she's realized what they're coming from, so she gives up on rubbing them away. Instead she catches Adora's cheek in her hand, and slips her hand up into her hair to keep her in place, and tries not to let too many tears spill. "I'll go to your stupid balls, and I'll hang out with your stupid friends." Their friends. If she's getting carried away by this sudden feeling of optimism, then she'll admit it. Catra wants to be friends with them, too. "--But I'm not letting Sparkles brush my stupid hair. She'll get--" her shoulders shake with laughter again, for no good reason because this really is a peeve of hers that nobody else takes seriously; "--glitter all over it. And you'll have to deal with that."

Because Adora will be there. Because Adora will be with her. Because Adora wants to be with her. Because Adora has wanted to be with her from apparently the moment she started imagining a future for herself. (Which, granted - a very recent thing. It still counts.)