"Stay still."

Adora didn't bother refuting the instructions. Catra had been like this all week, and Adora understood, the Fashion Show was coming up, and it seemed like a big fucking deal. Everyone knew Catra was the Head Organizer now too, Angella practically broadcasting it on television. That just meant more pressure, and no one liked pressure.

"Thank you. I need you tomorrow night for a final fitting, " Catra muttered, dismissing Adora to return back to her desk.

"Final fitting?"

Catra glanced up again, surprised to see Adora still beside her.

"Oh, yeah. The piece is finished, we just need to make sure it fits well."

Adora nodded slowly, quickly tucking both of Catra's loose bangs behind her ears. The movement must've disturbed her, for the focussed eyes flicked up slightly in annoyance.

The urge to retreat crept up on Adora, but she firmly stayed put, ready to take anything Catra would say to her. She was moody, but Adora wasn't going anywhere because of it. The eyes softened slightly, Catra taking a moment to drop her tablet pencil and tuck Adora's loose hair behind her ears. Wordlessly, she nodded, and returned back to her work.

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"It's...strong," Adora said finally. On the mannequin it looked brilliant, the fabric shapeshifting in the dim light of the room, small hidden diamonds flashing at her from various angles. It was stunning, but she knew she'd look awful in it. It was better suited to even Catra herself, dark hair and bright eyes.

"Strong? Really? That's the best word to describe it?"

Adora leaned over to run her hands over the surface, only for Catra to slap them away.

"No touching. You are literally going to just put it on, and then take it off."

Adora huffed like a petulant child, watching Catra carefully take it off the mannequin.

"It still doesn't look like it would be designed for me."

Catra's sharp gaze cut through hers, throwing a look that sent a very clear message.

Well I'm the designer, and I say ITS FOR YOU.

Designer intuition is often wrong.

Is not.

You'll see when I put it on.

"Adora," Catra broke out of their silent conversation, her tone biting.

"I'm just warning you. It's all dark and sexy, and I am definitely not dark or sexy," she ignored Catra's expression as she spoke.

"You see this?" She pointed to silk blue accents wrapped around the sleeves. It reflected elegantly when she shifted the outfit, light shining on them.

"Yeah?"

"I spent days contacting manufacturers for fabric that looked like this, and it took weeks for it just to arrive. Why do you think I searched endlessly for this hue of blue?"

"I feel like you're my teacher right now."

"Do you know?"

Adora stayed silent, eyes snagging back on the silver blue material.

"Because this fucking color, this blue, is yours, Adora. It's your eyes. This belt has an 'A' in it, if you look closely."

Adora peered down, the intricate silver belt unable to decipher. Catra pointed out the letter to her, and Adora felt something sting her eyes.

"The design is based off your namesake, and the cut is entirely based off your figure and what flatters you. So don't even think about giving me this shit. This is your piece. You gave me the inspiration for it."

Catra was red in the face, flushed with both anger and from speaking so passionately. It brightened her features, the light in her voice, the way she pointed out and explained small details no one else would think twice about. Adora just gaped, unable to comprehend or even think of some response.

"Well?"

Catra waited, her eyes expectant as her cheeks cooled. Adora quickly shook herself out of it, launching herself at Catra with the speed of an athlete, which she technically was.

The girl squealed in horror and surprise, flinging the clothing piece onto a nearby workbench before it got squeezed between both their bodies.

"Watch the creations, Blondie!"

Adora just smiled, holding Catra closer to herself in satisfaction.

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