Or, she wasn't until Adora started rambling. That's when Catra's lip trembles, and when she clenches her jaw.
"I'm not crying," she grits out, blinking determinedly to will the moisture in her eyes away. They always do this, they always start tearing up. She hates them. Sometimes she feels like she could scratch them out in her frustration. But she holds Adora's gaze in a dedicated glare, determined to prove that they're drying.
Slowly, she unfurls from the tight ball she'd compressed herself into. Holding the position hurts anyway, and the bruises of the day ache anew as she tries to force her tense muscles to relax. But that's not what she cares about. One of her arms reaches down, blindly; pressing against Adora's leg and searching for where there must be a bandage, somewhere, holding tight against the skin Catra had torn through. Her hand roams indiscriminately until she finds it, and then halts, her fingers glancing at the edge.
"I'll cover you in the simulation tomorrow." Her words are abrupt, but have the ring of a promise. She doesn't usually show up for them on time, doesn't usually work as part of the team like she's supposed to. But she will. To make up for what she's done.
no subject
Or, she wasn't until Adora started rambling. That's when Catra's lip trembles, and when she clenches her jaw.
"I'm not crying," she grits out, blinking determinedly to will the moisture in her eyes away. They always do this, they always start tearing up. She hates them. Sometimes she feels like she could scratch them out in her frustration. But she holds Adora's gaze in a dedicated glare, determined to prove that they're drying.
Slowly, she unfurls from the tight ball she'd compressed herself into. Holding the position hurts anyway, and the bruises of the day ache anew as she tries to force her tense muscles to relax. But that's not what she cares about. One of her arms reaches down, blindly; pressing against Adora's leg and searching for where there must be a bandage, somewhere, holding tight against the skin Catra had torn through. Her hand roams indiscriminately until she finds it, and then halts, her fingers glancing at the edge.
"I'll cover you in the simulation tomorrow." Her words are abrupt, but have the ring of a promise. She doesn't usually show up for them on time, doesn't usually work as part of the team like she's supposed to. But she will. To make up for what she's done.