The more Adora babbles, the more Catra feels - something. Something easy, and warm, that unfurls peacefully in her chest and pulls a smile onto her lips as she bows her head down to press her face into Adora's shoulder. She feels this way, sometimes. Doesn't know what it is, doesn't know what to call it. But it's always something Adora's done that triggers it.

(Even if sometimes, all she's doing is existing.)

"Yeah," she murmurs into her; even though it's a lie. Catra feels the exact opposite of empty right now, with that warmth tickling at something inside her and fluttering in her stomach. She'll agree with anything Adora says, especially the things that will lead to repeats of what they've just done. She really doesn't get how Adora can be saying so much, when for Catra it feels like all strength for any movement at all has been leeched from her, but she likes the sound of Adora's voice. Even whispered. She likes it when Adora talks to her, just her, and so she scrounges up as many words as she can to keep her going. "Think you'll let us do it again sometime?"