It was late.
The moonlight pooled across the palace bedroom, casting soft silver over tangled sheets and a sleeping Catra — on her stomach, one leg half-kicked out from under the blanket, her hair a glorious, chaotic mess.
She didn't stir when the door creaked open.
Adora slipped in barefoot, dressed in one of Catra's hoodies and shorts, face flushed from a late night training session she'd absolutely forgotten to cancel. Again.
But instead of showering, instead of getting her own pajamas or even brushing her hair out, she just stood at the edge of the bed, eyes drinking her in.
Gods, she loved her.
⸻
Catra murmured something into the pillow, tail twitching once before flopping still again.
Adora grinned, heart doing that too-full ache again.
She climbed into bed slowly, carefully — but the second the mattress shifted, Catra grunted and cracked one eye open.
"You're late," she muttered sleepily.
Adora slid under the covers, curling toward her. "I missed you."
"It's been four hours."
"That's too long."
Catra groaned as Adora's arms wrapped tight around her waist from behind, practically caging her in. "You're clingy."
"I'm in love. There's a difference."
⸻
Catra rolled to face her, blinking slowly, voice rough with sleep. "You smell like sweat and moonlight."
Adora flushed. "...Hot?"
"Unfortunately."
She reached out, threading her fingers lazily through Adora's hair.
"You're not gonna let me sleep, are you?"
Adora kissed the corner of her mouth. "Not yet."
Another kiss. Her jaw. Her throat.
Catra's breath hitched. "You're needy."
Adora nodded. "Yeah."
⸻
For a long moment, they just looked at each other. No rush. No noise.
Just warmth.
Catra's hand drifted to Adora's cheek, fingers soft. "I can feel your heartbeat."
"Is that weird?"
"It's my favorite sound."
Adora pulled her close, murmured into her skin, "I can't believe I get to keep you."
"You don't get to. We chose each other."
Adora smiled, kissed her again — deeper this time. Longer.
The kind of kiss that said I know your past, and I want your future.
⸻
What followed wasn't rushed.
It was slow. Intimate. Full of sighs, fingertips, and whispered promises they'd already made — but kept saying anyway.
You're mine.
I'm yours.
Always.
And afterward, tangled together beneath the sheets, Catra rested her head on Adora's chest, fingers absently tracing circles over her stomach.
"See?" Adora whispered. "Special time."
Catra smirked without opening her eyes. "Clingy."
"Still in love."
"Lucky me."
