Adora's stomach flips and her heart bobs, a fresh coat of pink dyeing her cheeks with anticipation. "Yeah! Okay. It's a deal."

She ducks in to press another kiss to Catra's lips -- a surprisingly easy habit to fall into -- and then pulls back with a smile. Her hands relinquish their hold on Catra's, but rather than reach down for the hem of her shirt, they brazenly snake around to Catra's nape. "Let me help you," she offers, a little too eager for her practical reasoning to really sell: "So you don't get your hair stuck in the zip."