Adora shucks off her uniform one piece at a time, dropping each one onto a growing pile on the damp bathroom floor. It's fine. It's all going in the wash bin as soon as she's finished, anyway.

She keeps her back turned to Catra all the while -- not that there should be any embarrassment between the two of them after a lifetime of communal showers, but somehow Adora feels awkward. Stiff. Can't quite bring herself to meet her gaze.

She only glances back at her once, briefly, before going in, and the pleading look on her face yields a sigh from Adora's lips. She's exhausted and stressed and-- guilty, though she can't quite rationalize why. And she's done fighting with Catra.

"You can do what you want," she says, and steps under the water.