Catra's brusque, commanding tone sends Adora's heart into a gallop, and her hips cant towards her hand as if pulled by invisible strings. Catra can get bossy, that much is nothing new-- but this is different. Her words are a warning, burrowing under Adora's skin, carrying heat and thrill. It feels undefiable.

... That doesn't mean she likes the order, though.

"What? I don't wanna put my pillow in my mouth!" she whispers harshly in response -- because she's being good, see, still regulating her volume. "I'll just use my hand, it's fine!"