Dont know if ur still taking prompts, but maybe Catra gets like a burn mark or something after a particularly bad encounter with shadow weaver, and tries to hide the scar from Adora? Love ur writing btw!!
TW: mentions of self harm
Fur hid most bruises and scrapes and cuts.
Unless, of course, there was someone who enjoyed petting the fur and, as a result, finding every single injury.
Adora can account for most of them. A bump on the head where Lonnie “accidentally” hit Catra (and got three shallow scratches across her cheek for her troubles), a bruise where she hit the ground too hard, a scrape where she just barely dodged a bot...
And a burn. A fresh burn. Catra winces, a rare show of weakness. “What’s that?” Adora asked, pulling Catra’s arm closer to examine the far too fresh wound. It couldn’t be more than a couple hours old. But their last training session had been four hours ago.
“It’s nothing,” Catra muttered, curling her arm away from Adora. Adora’s brow furrowed.
“Does it hurt? Maybe you should go to the infirmary and get it bandaged-”
“Adora, can you not?” Catra snapped irritably, standing abruptly and climbing up to her own bunk. “Just go to sleep.”
Adora frowned at the bottom of Catra’s bed, crossing her arms. She didn’t like this. Why was Catra hiding injuries? She knew her friend would sometimes scratch herself (accidentally, she always insisted, but Adora doesn’t believe it). Was she burning herself now? Why would she do that?
“Catra?” She kept her voice soft, aware that the others were sleeping.
“You... You know you can talk to me, right? If you’re... feeling bad.”
A long silence followed. “Go to sleep,” Catra finally said. Adora sighed.
Sometimes she wondered if she was a bad friend.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Petting Catra was still Adora’s favorite thing.
And now they could openly cuddle at the same time, Adora spooning Catra, Catra purring lazily. She drew her fingers down Catra’s arm, frowning slightly as she came across new scars. She wondered how many of those were self inflicted. Then wondered if she wanted to know.
Then her fingers found an older, familiar scar. She felt Catra go stiff.
“Shadow Weaver,” she finally muttered.
“It was Shadow Weaver. I pissed her off, and she grabbed me, and...”
Her voice drifted off into a shudder. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Adora asked after a minute. Catra laughed. It was a bitter sound.
“Because you still had your head up your ass and said things like ‘if you just respected her’.” Adora winced. Yeah. She had said that. More than once. “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s dust. We’re here. There’s no point in getting up in our heads about it, right?”
“I know, I just...” Her fingers found another scar - they both knew where that one had come from. “I let her hurt you. I let you hurt yourself.”
“Adora.” Catra rolled over, taking Adora’s face between her hands. “First off, you didn’t let anyone do anything. Neither of us could control Shadow Weaver, and I...” Her voice drifted off, and she closed her eyes. “I was fucked up. I’m still fucked up. You can’t control that no matter how hard you try.”
Adora pouted, pressing closer, resting her forehead against Catra’s. “But I can help. Will you let me help?”
“You and your hero complex,” Catra teased with a gentle smile.
“I think this is just taking care of someone I love.”
Love. The word still shocked them both. Catra blushed, her smile turning shy. “Sap.”
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