The red on her face isn't enough. She leans heavier over her, closing Catra in, and Catra's hard-pressed to remember it's her spy. That they're a valuable asset, an integral part of her plans.
She doesn't care any more.
Her hand rises, the one stained with Adora's blood, and Catra presses it against her shoulder. Palm-first, as if they were still friends. As if Adora still cared.
Her claws dig in, and Catra's foot swipes between Adora's legs; hooking around her knee to pull her off-balance and shove her shoulder in one move, pushing off from the crate to give her smaller body the momentum she needs to knock Adora's to the ground. She hopes it hurts. She hopes she lands on the shattered glass of the tracker pad and feels every shard cutting into her.
"You want to know something about Adora?" She hisses, transferring her knees to Adora's hips, pinning her in the way she used to, shoving her down with her claws still buried in her shoulder and bringing her other hand to roughly grip her chin, forcing her to meet her furious eyes. "She uses people. She can't feel good about herself unless there's someone weaker around, so she makes them. She takes people who would have been stronger on their own and convinces them that they need her, that she'll look out for them. That as long as she's around, nothing really bad can happen."
She sneers the words, mocking them. Mocking herself. She's the idiot who'd believed her. Her fingers tighten on Adora's jaw, pressing the tips of claws until she feels the skin give; until red wells up around them. It both calms and infuriates her, settles the anger in her veins but stokes the hatred in her heart. She's able to return to a colder voice, and she's sure it'll be steady despite the tremble in her arms as she leans closer; close enough to taste the blood on Adora's lips if she wanted, close enough to bear witness to every flash of emotion that crosses those grey eyes. She wants to see them hurt, and she flexes her claws in her shoulder because Catra knows her words aren't going to make that pain happen. Adora doesn't hurt from what she did. Adora doesn't care. Catra has to make her.
"And then she leaves," she finishes coldly; tearing her hand down, gouging deep across her shoulder and onto her chest. To hear her scream like Catra had done when she'd realized she'd truly abandoned her, to see her cry in pain and shudder and curl, like Catra used to. "Leaves them alone, and weak, and pathetic, to go play hero to somebody new."
So, in summary? Yes. She pretty much hates her forever, and DT can have that tidbit for free.
"Anything else I have to clear up for you, or are you done."
no subject
She doesn't care any more.
Her hand rises, the one stained with Adora's blood, and Catra presses it against her shoulder. Palm-first, as if they were still friends. As if Adora still cared.
Her claws dig in, and Catra's foot swipes between Adora's legs; hooking around her knee to pull her off-balance and shove her shoulder in one move, pushing off from the crate to give her smaller body the momentum she needs to knock Adora's to the ground. She hopes it hurts. She hopes she lands on the shattered glass of the tracker pad and feels every shard cutting into her.
"You want to know something about Adora?" She hisses, transferring her knees to Adora's hips, pinning her in the way she used to, shoving her down with her claws still buried in her shoulder and bringing her other hand to roughly grip her chin, forcing her to meet her furious eyes. "She uses people. She can't feel good about herself unless there's someone weaker around, so she makes them. She takes people who would have been stronger on their own and convinces them that they need her, that she'll look out for them. That as long as she's around, nothing really bad can happen."
She sneers the words, mocking them. Mocking herself. She's the idiot who'd believed her. Her fingers tighten on Adora's jaw, pressing the tips of claws until she feels the skin give; until red wells up around them. It both calms and infuriates her, settles the anger in her veins but stokes the hatred in her heart. She's able to return to a colder voice, and she's sure it'll be steady despite the tremble in her arms as she leans closer; close enough to taste the blood on Adora's lips if she wanted, close enough to bear witness to every flash of emotion that crosses those grey eyes. She wants to see them hurt, and she flexes her claws in her shoulder because Catra knows her words aren't going to make that pain happen. Adora doesn't hurt from what she did. Adora doesn't care. Catra has to make her.
"And then she leaves," she finishes coldly; tearing her hand down, gouging deep across her shoulder and onto her chest. To hear her scream like Catra had done when she'd realized she'd truly abandoned her, to see her cry in pain and shudder and curl, like Catra used to. "Leaves them alone, and weak, and pathetic, to go play hero to somebody new."
So, in summary? Yes. She pretty much hates her forever, and DT can have that tidbit for free.
"Anything else I have to clear up for you, or are you done."