Catra's look softens, just a little, at the confession. Adora is such an idiot.

And she does feel really warm under Catra's hand, which is a problem. Fevers are the hardest thing to hide, especially Adora's if she makes it to the point of spouting unintelligible garbage.

"Here, budge over." She slips off of Adora to her side, pushing at her shoulder and hip to roll her so Catra can wriggle down behind her and curl around her. They don't usually cuddle each-other to sleep, but there's no greater comfort when one of them is ill. "What're you feeling? If you're about to puke, warn me now and don't even think about moving your head."