It doesn't matter to Adora that it's just a stray few drops and a shimmer at the edge of Catra's eyes. The fact that she caused it overloads her chest with guilt, and so she continues to fuss and fret until she's sure, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Catra's eyes are dry. Only then can she breathe fully from her lungs, and begin to relax.

-- Begin to, until Catra's roaming hand has her tensing up for a whole nother reason, and Adora has to swallow.

"You don't have to do that, silly," she says, wrapping careful fingers over Catra's wrist. Her smile slants lipsided, straining at the edges. "I told you, it's barely a sting."