The first thing Adora does once she's made it to their sleeping quarters, is bury her face in her pillow and scream.
Well. Not scream-scream. She can't scream-scream, because everyone around her is asleep and she'd be disturbing all the other cadets, but she at the very least lets out a long, miserable groan that manages to carry some of her frustration and drown it in the pillow. But it's far from enough. In fact, once the floodgates have opened, Adora only finds her feelings all the harder to rein in, and she ends up rolling on her mattress, senselessly punching her pillow and kicking her legs at the air for a good couple of minutes before she can settle.
And then she's left lying on her back in the dark, breathing harshly through her teeth, stare fixed on the bottom of Catra's bunk overhead. With the tidal wave of her anger flushed away, all that remains is the uneasy twisting in her gut. The shame and guilt that's been festering there since being caught by Octavia, now amplified tenfold by the knowledge she's hurt her best friend.
You're the worst. Why did she say that? Adora shouldn't have said that. It's just some minor cuts on her leg, they're not even that deep. Why isn't Catra back yet? She's taking forever. She's doing okay in there, isn't she...?
Adora rolls onto her side to face the doorway, pillow squeezed to her chest. She definitely can't fall asleep like this, not until she's talked to Catra. She'll be back any moment now, won't she? It shouldn't take that long to towel up.
She watches the entrance intently, through heavy, tired eyes, for what feels likes eternity. At long last, Catra's silhouette appears in the doorway, and Adora instantly perks up, leaning onto one elbow.
"Catra," she calls to her in an urgent whisper as she draws closer, her bare feet padding softly against the concrete floor.
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Well. Not scream-scream. She can't scream-scream, because everyone around her is asleep and she'd be disturbing all the other cadets, but she at the very least lets out a long, miserable groan that manages to carry some of her frustration and drown it in the pillow. But it's far from enough. In fact, once the floodgates have opened, Adora only finds her feelings all the harder to rein in, and she ends up rolling on her mattress, senselessly punching her pillow and kicking her legs at the air for a good couple of minutes before she can settle.
And then she's left lying on her back in the dark, breathing harshly through her teeth, stare fixed on the bottom of Catra's bunk overhead. With the tidal wave of her anger flushed away, all that remains is the uneasy twisting in her gut. The shame and guilt that's been festering there since being caught by Octavia, now amplified tenfold by the knowledge she's hurt her best friend.
You're the worst. Why did she say that? Adora shouldn't have said that. It's just some minor cuts on her leg, they're not even that deep. Why isn't Catra back yet? She's taking forever. She's doing okay in there, isn't she...?
Adora rolls onto her side to face the doorway, pillow squeezed to her chest. She definitely can't fall asleep like this, not until she's talked to Catra. She'll be back any moment now, won't she? It shouldn't take that long to towel up.
She watches the entrance intently, through heavy, tired eyes, for what feels likes eternity. At long last, Catra's silhouette appears in the doorway, and Adora instantly perks up, leaning onto one elbow.
"Catra," she calls to her in an urgent whisper as she draws closer, her bare feet padding softly against the concrete floor.