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synopsis: gift fic where adora kisses sick catra on the forehead wooh shoutout to treasure 🗣🗣🗣
//disclaimer: for the sake of this fic cats are NOT highly allergic/have a toxic reaction to chamomile//
ENJOYYYY!!!!
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"If you don't drink it now, it's gonna get cold."
Of all the things Adora had known her girlfriend to have, acquiescence wasn’t one of them.
She frowned at her girlfriend's stubborn response, watching as Catra turned the opposite direction, her arms crossed.
"I don't want to. I don't need your help." she muttered, refusing to make eye contact.
Adora sighed and scooted closer to her side of the bed, swiftly grabbing the baby blue blanket beside her and tossing it over Catra's shoulders.
"Stop being stubborn, you know you're not fine. It's not going to hurt."
Catra frowned, finally facing Adora with a low glare. "You don't know that!"
"I promise it won't. It's only tea. Way better than ration bar soup, trust me." she responded calmly, gently offering a hand to her.
Seeing the persistence scrawled on Catra's face, Adora relented, lowering her palm to approach her further. Softly, she kissed her lover from above, their slight height difference allowing for the gentle fuzz of the shorter one's forehead to softly greet her lips.
A low purr filled the empty silence, Catra saying nothing as she leaned further into Adora's touch. The tea grew cold on the bedside table as the warmth of the moment consumed them, both no longer focused on anything besides each other's presence.
Peacefully, Catra began to trace patterns on Adora's arm, now buried against the soft part of her tricep.
"You're going to get yourself sick, kissing me like that." she said suddenly, lazily looking onto the bedsheets.
"I know." Adora responded simply, hyperfocused on her movements before suddenly catching the whiff of grass, reminding her of her intended task.
"..What's the big deal about it anyways? It's just tea." she asked gently, stirring a groan from her girlfriend.
"...it stings."
"Hm?" she perked up, barely catching her lowered tone.
"..the chamomile. It stings." Catra voiced louder as she faced downwards, clearly unhappy with the direction of this conversation.
"It stings? But I thought chamomile was sweet." Adora answered, perplexed yet amused.
Catra groaned again, holding back a violent cough before proceeding. "...it is. That's why it stings. It tastes like honey. And flowers. Like you."
"Pft, what?" Adora questioned, mildly flustered by her response as she ran a hand through Catra's hair.
"You taste like flowers...sometimes. It stings, because it's not you. It's not the same as kissing you again." Catra muttered, increasingly reddening with her confession.
Adora's face lit up before grinning wide, leaning in closer.
"Aww you like kissing me that much? That must be so embarrassing for you-"
"Shut up!" Catra blurted, the squeaky rasp of her voice getting the best of her as she grabbed a pillow from behind her, tossing it forward.
"Oh come on, Catra, you're sick! This is no time for childish fights." Adora mused, raising her head matter-of-factly as Catra turned to her with a cheeky grin, looking less pale than before.
"Wanna bet?" Catra countered, already preparing a second attack.
Adora sighed, playfully rolling her eyes before retrieving the fallen pillow beside her. "Oh, it's so on. Loser has to drink the tea."
Catra considered this for a second, glancing ahead inquisitively before scoffing. "Fine, but only 'cuz I know I'll win. And the loser also has to give the other one a kiss on the forehead."
"Miss my lips that much already, huh?" Adora teased again, barely able to raise her pillow before Catra threw hers.
"Be quiet and fight, coward."
Adora struck back, the two tossing and tumbling over each other like they were cadets for what seemed like ages.
She smiled by the end of it all, raising the cool stone of the mug to her mouth.
Her tongue stung of chamomile.