warm like you

“Are you gonna help me with this or not?” Adora asks, rising onto her tiptoes so she can actually reach the top of the sodding tree that Catra had warned was gonna be too tall to decorate without a step ladder. “Not.” Catra replies from where she’s sprawled inelegantly over the couch. Her tail swaying languidly over the cushions. Adora huffs lightly. Before, and it’s with an uncharacteristic level of caution, slipping the white and gold bauble in place on a branch above her head. “That’s not very helpful.”“I never claimed to be,” Catra disputes, folding her arms. “Besides, you’re the one who wanted the tree, I didn’t sign up for any of this grunt work.” Adora, ironically, grunts like she’s finally accepting the refusal. Which is a shame really, because Catra doesn’t think it would have taken much more for her to have rolled her eyes and joined her.