Chapter 1: just a ghost at most
Chapter Text
“Two thoughts, equally as terrifying:
What if I see you again?
What if I don't?”
— Margaret Schnabel
AUGUST, TWENTY-NINETEEN,
LONDON
For someone dressed as she was, Adora sure felt a lot like the rain that drizzled down the tinted window.
She’d found herself watching the raindrops for the entire car journey, following the patterns the streams made across the glass as the street lights behind flickered in and out of them. The soft sound of the drops tapping against the exterior of the car was all she could focus on, letting her mind drift away with the simplicity of it. Truly, her evening would be far more enjoyable if she could be tucked away at home, reading a book as the summer storms picked up outside, and she could warm herself with a cup of tea in hand.
But of course, tonight was going to be very different from the ideal.
“We’re almost there, ma’am,” spoke up Juliet, sitting on the opposite side of the car. Adora turned herself to face her, eyebrows raised up. It took Adora a few moments to register the words, and specifically why Juliet was bringing them up. She’d been on enough car journeys with Adora by now that she knew she needed the prompting to be brought back to reality.
Adora appreciated it.
“Right,” Adora spoke, sitting herself up straighter despite the lack of any new eyes. It didn’t matter, they’d be onto her soon. “Umbrella?”
“Got it here, ma’am.”
“Good.” She nodded with a smile, but both she and Juliet knew it was lacking any depth. “The last thing we would want is this beautiful dress getting soaked.”
“Absolutely not, ma’am.”
“Juliet?”
She raised her own eyebrows in return, and Adora’s smile managed to soften into something familiar between them. “You don’t need to ma’am me in private.”
“Of course, m—” The shape of the word had almost made it out of her mouth, but Adora was amused by the way she bit it back. It was too bad Juliet was such a professional — Adora almost believed they could be friends.
But alas — the peace of the moment came to a close too soon as the car pulled up to the Grand Etheria.
Adora could already hear the screams, but they were made louder as Juliet exited the car. She counted the seconds in her head, her breaths coming out controlled — four, three, two—
The door to her side was opened, Juliet standing on the other side with the said umbrella in her hand, presenting a space for Adora to step onto the red carpet as the overwhelming burden of being known engulfed her.
Adora was sure she’d never get used to the flashes of the camera — or rather, the dozens of flashes that went off in quick succession, plaguing the inside of her eyelids with blinding white. It was routine by now to plaster on a public smile, to hold her hands on her hips in a specific pose, to wave at the crowd that screamed and cried her name.
Her name.
She-Ra. She-Ra. She-Ra.
All of it was drilled into her psyche, into her very bones as she performed her piece. Giving the media ample time to snap their shots, to admire her deep blue dress accompanied by the tiara on her crown and the gold and white cape across her shoulders, to praise her with their false affections. It was a relief when she felt Juliet’s hand on the small of her back, encouraging her to move on.
And so she did, marching up the stone stairs into the Grand Etheria — her home for the evening, and what would surely be some kind of sanctuary.
She knew, however, that inside was just another brand of her personal hell.
It was instant as she was greeted at the door by staff that knew her name — she would never know theirs. Once she walked further inside, familiar faces she’d seen on television and in magazines would smile and try to shake her hand. Adora played the pleasantries, but her cheeks were already becoming pained with the smile they would not drop. She tried to not let it exhaust her, not so early on in the night, but an endless wave of strangers was enough to spike her anxiety.
Which is why, the moment she caught sight of Glimmer, Adora suddenly felt her world fall back into place.
“Adora!” Glimmer exclaimed once she’d spotted her best friend making her way into the ballroom. Adora felt a natural wave of comfort ease over her, and she made her way towards the Princess. The two immediately embraced, Adora squeezing her arms around her friend.
“Ugh, about time you showed up,” she continued as they separated. “I feel like I haven’t had a moment’s break. People everywhere, all they want to do is talk. Is this what you had to deal with at your Princess Prom?”
Adora actually found herself laughing at the question, but she felt the sympathy Glimmer was clearly looking for.
Adora could remember her Princess Prom well. Ten years ago, to the day. It had been a momentous occasion — mostly because it was the day she was revealed as She-Ra, the long lost Warrior Princess of the Eternian Court. Of course she’d been swamped that day, but Adora had always thought it had been due to her appearance at the Prom. Glimmer’s experience was surely different. Then again, she also had ten more years worth of connections to be entertaining tonight.
Secretly, Adora was glad it wasn’t her.
“I vaguely remember having to deal with it,” Adora told her, settling her friend’s worries. “In fact, I particularly remember this pink and purple haired girl who would not leave me alone all night. Actually, she hasn’t left me alone since.”
“Oh, please,” Glimmer said, lightly slapping her arm. “I saved you that night. You’d never survived if I hadn’t shown you the ropes.”
It was true, and Adora was forever grateful.
“Well, happy friendship anniversary!” Adora looped her arm with Glimmer’s, and she made them walk further into the ballroom. The Grand Etheria was a beautiful building, with a high roof decorated with purple and blue lights to match Bright Moon’s aesthetic. The two long walls were lined with pillars, hiding lower sections of the room where Adora was sure people were using for more private conversations. It was wonderful to see the rest of the floor was actually being used as a dance floor, even if Adora didn’t plan on finding herself on it that night. “What am I saving you from, exactly?”
“Anything. Everything.” Glimmer seemed flustered, and Adora was curious. Glimmer had been going on about Princess Prom for months. In fact, everyone had. Adora herself had had the date blocked out in her schedule for years, and the past week had been busy with fittings and prep meetings. It was the biggest date in the social calendar — everyone who was anyone was invited, but it was an exclusive list.
Even that afternoon, while Adora had spent her few free hours with Glimmer at Bright Moon Castle, she had not stopped going on about the Prom. Typical, Glimmer had commented as she and Adora had stared outside at the dark grey clouds hanging too low in the sky. Ten years I’ve been waiting for this, and we get the worst weather imaginable.
And here they finally were. Adora felt bad that Glimmer was so flustered.
“I lost Bow ages ago,” Glimmer continued. “Something about looking for— I don’t even remember who, some celebrity of some kind. Politicians from other Courts keep talking to me about things I do not care for, and I swear some of the people invited do not understand how to speak with royalty.”
It was a feeling she could understand, especially considering those who had insisted on a hand shake. It was weird to her how even celebrities managed to find themselves losing their cool around the Princesses — as if they were truly anything special — but it often made her feel like she wasn’t a real person.
Adora had not felt like a real person in a very long time.
“I thought tonight was just going to be about a bit of fun. You know, dress up all fancy, have some drinks, spend time with our friends. It’s just feeling like an extra long day at work.”
“I think it is technically work,” Adora pointed out. “Do you know how many meetings I’ve had this week about who I should be speaking to?”
“Really?” Glimmer raised her eyebrows. “Speak to who? And about what?”
Adora shrugged her shoulders. “Politicians. Government, not Courts. They prepped me with what I should say, what I’m not allowed to say. Everything just to make a good impression as I introduce myself.” Adora had hated the feeling she’d gotten from the meetings — like all the advisors who sat her down were just using her as a doll. It was all surface level, nothing deeper, and that only increased her anxiety as to what it was all for. “Seems to me like the Eternian Court is trying to make connections.”
“And they’re using…” Glimmer did not need to finish the sentence. They both knew what their roles were within the Courts. The Princesses did not rule anything, not anymore. Not with the governments and unions between the countries now. They were simply decoration, used as flashy symbols to distract the populaces across borders, to unite them. Adora could see the positives, but it did not stop her blood from running cold in her own veins.
“Well, if we’re going to be working all night long, I think we can take a quick detour.” Glimmer nodded her head in one direction. Adora followed her gaze, and spotted a group that was entirely friendly. Princess Mermista, in her signature blue, Princess Perfuma, in a beautiful long gown, and the youngest, Princess Frosta, attending her first Princess Prom as an adult. The three of them were speaking to a figure with their back to them — the back of the head so familiar Adora didn’t even need to guess who it was.
“Oh, and look. Bow’s managed to reappear. It’s almost like magic.”
Adora leaned into Glimmer’s ear. “You sure he wasn’t just searching for Perfuma earlier?”
Her friend’s cheeks bloomed into a hot pink. “Adora, I’m not sure what game you’re trying to play, but I’m not biting. Come on, let’s spend what little time we can with our friends.”
It was in fact little — much shorter than Adora would have liked. She’d managed to pull Bow into a hug, both of them squeezing in comfort, before she turned to greet the others. She’d only managed surface level conversation with the group before she felt a hand on her elbow, demanding her attention from the rest of the Princesses.
Galen, an older advisor from the Eternian Court, whispered into her ear — reminding her that she had to move on. Of course, this was not time for herself, and she shouldn’t have ever expected it to be.
She hoped, maybe, that she and the Princesses would have another time to catch up in the near future. If all of them could make it, even.
The night was dull as she moved through the ballroom with Galen introducing her to all the right people. It was just as practised as the rest of the night, repeating her greetings and remembering the phrases she’d been primed to speak. She was asking all the right questions, giving all the right answers — a mouthpiece of the Eternian Court rather than her own person. She met with the monarchies, with the politicians, with the world leaders. She met those with powers rooted in money, in signed contracts and influence. She met with representatives of Mystacor, of charitable organisations, of those who begged for the Eternian Court’s help. She met flashy smiles of the golden children of the media, of those who sought out fame and now wore it like a badge of honour.
It was easy to tune a lot of it out, to shut herself off as she played her role. She’d been doing it for the past ten years of her life after all.
Always Princess She-Ra — never Adora.
It was poetic that it was Galen who spared her, much like he had damned her in the first place. After their conversation with an American Ambassador, he had pulled her to a halt before she could carry on in search of the next conversation piece. Another whisper to the ear, letting her know he had some business to attend to, that she would be alone. How the peace felt like relief once she was left alone, and Adora knew this was her chance. Her chance for air, for space, to gather her thoughts again. Even if it only meant disappearing upstairs, to the designated bedrooms for the party that evening. Anything just to be alone for a few minutes. To break away from the crowd.
As soon as she was alone, she searched the crowd for Juliet — she would not be far, still having a job to do even in a place like this. Their eyes met, and that was all Juliet needed to understand the message.
I need to get out of here.
Immediately Adora was on the move, trying to find the easiest route out of the ballroom and towards the grand entrance doors. It was a miracle that she kept her eye contact to herself, not allowing herself to make the mistake of catching someone’s attention and be forced to fall into conversation with them. None of them interested her, not anymore — they were all faces lost in her mind as pieces of this leeching society.
She broke free of the main crowd, and Adora spotted Glimmer and Bow talking to each other near the doors. It felt like a prize, like the universe was finally giving back to her after all of the energy she’d spent throughout the night. How easy it would be to pull them upstairs with her, to have a quiet moment with her two best friends, if just to sit in silence with each other.
But before Adora could even play that fantasy out in her head, her dreams were shattered.
“Princess She-Ra.”
The voice sent a jolt to her heart in its formality and familiarity. Adora pulled herself to a stop, damning herself for not thinking to look out for those that would try to change her plans. In this case, it was the worst scenario.
She turned herself around, Juliet stepping to the side, and Adora’s eyes settled on Light Hope.
“Not leaving so soon, are you?” her Head Advisor asked her.
Adora found herself pasting on yet another fake smile. “Of course not. I just needed some air, I think I’ve been around this ballroom five times by now.”
“Only five?”
Adora was not amused at Light Hope’s attempt at a joke, if it even was one. Her smile faltered, cracking under the anxiety that was filling her stomach with a sickness.
“I’m surprised to see you,” Adora quickly changed the subject, not wishing to linger on Light Hope’s snide remark. “I didn’t realise you were planning on coming tonight.”
“Oh, I was not meant to, but I thought it best to show my face. You’ve been busy, I take it?”
Adora nodded. She quickly realised she wasn’t going to escape this meeting with her flimsy excuse. This was a conversation she was going to have to run through to the end, lest she deal with Light Hope’s wrath tomorrow morning.
“I spoke with that sorcerer you asked of me,” Adora offered, knowing that was something that would at least please Light Hope. There had been a whole meeting in the previous week that had surrounded him completely. “He was very interested in working with you.”
“Norwyn? Oh, wonderful.” Light Hope spoke. She did not seem any more interested in this information than she was about anything else, but Adora could see that gleam in her eye — the one that sparkled when something was coming together.
“I was confused, though,” Adora continued, against her best wishes. Light Hope seemed to think the same thing as she watched Adora carefully. “He kept mentioning the Runestones. I couldn’t quite work out why he would be interested in them.”
Light Hope’s eyes lingered on Adora’s face for a second too long, and it did nothing to ease the uncertainty that had been steadily growing in Adora all evening. She pursed her lips, turning herself away from Adora. “Walk with me.”
Just like that, Adora’s plans to sneak upstairs with Glimmer and Bow were ruined. She held in her complaints, going through the familiar pattern of burying her thoughts deep inside of her. This was not about her, after all. It was about She-Ra, and she still had a job to do.
Adora moved to walk side by side with Light Hope. They began to drift around the edges of the ballroom, behind the pillars that separated them from the dancing guests and larger crowds. Juliet trailed behind, keeping her distance so as not to overhear the conversation.
“Do you understand what the Runestones are to this world, She-Ra?” Light Hope asked. It was not the question Adora was expecting, and even as she looked to Light Hope to search her face for some kind of comforting answer, she was instead given the cold and stoney expression she had grown used to from her Head Advisor. Adora was positive she’d never seen anything else on her face in the decade she’d known her for.
“A source of magic,” Adora replied, stating the obvious. “They’re what grant the Princesses their powers.”
“And beyond that?” Light Hope prompted.
“And their Courts.” Adora held her breath as she watched Light Hope for longer. “Their people’s magic.”
“Precisely.” Light Hope pulled them to a stop, watching over the crowded ballroom. Adora did the same, but her eyes glazed over — barely taking the scene in as she focused on Light Hope’s words. “Magic is a powerful tool, Adora. In the wrong hands, it can be dangerous.”
It did little to ease her concerns. Adora’s mind rolled those words over in her head, contemplating the true meaning behind them. “I’m still not sure I understand what this has to do with the Sorcerers of Mystacor.”
“They understand magic better than anyone in this world. Who would be better to make sure it never becomes an issue?”
“An issue—”
Adora stopped herself before the question fully formed in her mouth. In the wrong hands, it can be dangerous. Was Light Hope trying to imply the people of the Magical Courts were dangerous with their abilities? It had never been the case before, Adora had no idea why it would change now.
“I’m sorry, are you trying to control who uses the magic?”
“If that’s how you want to put it,” Light Hope seemed unbothered by Adora’s confusion on the issue, or the sudden shock that spread across her face. “It’s all very early still, but no matter. Change will be coming soon.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” Adora quickly demanded, but Light Hope simply raised a hand, indicating that she was done talking about this for now.
“You should enjoy the rest of your evening, She-Ra,” she said as she turned to walk away.
“Light Hope—!” It was over too quickly, with Light Hope disappearing into the crowds of people, going back to her stalking of the ballroom. Adora could hear the blood pumping through her ears, thumping away as her mind swirled with the new information she’d just been given. Information she was sure wasn’t the full picture. She wanted to snake her way after Light Hope once again, to demand a further explanation, to be told exactly what she was playing a part in, but that would draw far too much attention in a place like this.
She barely registered the words of another coming up behind her, instead thinking to herself I have to find Glimmer. Adora turned to meet his gaze — Galen, once again showing his face — as he took it upon himself to introduce her to yet another guest.
Adora didn’t care, she didn’t want to care, she wanted to figure out what the hell her Court was up to.
But all of it stopped — disappeared in the split of a second — as her eyes landed on the woman now standing in front of her.
Suddenly nothing else mattered as Adora found herself face to face with her past.
“Princess She-Ra, may I introduce you to Catra.”
* * *
TWELVE YEARS PREVIOUSLY
Adora trudged her way up the stairs of the orphanage, dragging a laundry basket behind her. It bounced off each step as she went, and while a small part of her brain reminded her Ms Weaver would pull her up for it, the rest just didn’t care. She’d gone up and down the stairs four times now, working her calves hard and her arms harder as she’d escorted the laundry down to the basement room.
Finally, it was over, and Adora was ready to drop the basket completely.
She’d made it to the girls floor, shoving the laundry basket into the hallway cupboard before moving towards the shared bedroom. She didn't expect to find anyone inside. At this time, everyone was downstairs working on homework, and she was planning to do the same. For that, she needed the book she was reading for English that she'd left on her beside table. It was only supposed to be a quick stop as she stepped into the bedroom, but she froze in her tracks when she realised her previous thought was wrong.
“Catra,” she groaned. “Do you really have to lie there?”
The beds had all been made up earlier in the day, done to perfection before Ms Weaver inspected them. Adora had made sure Catra’s bed was as well done as her own to save her from any more punishments.
And yet here she was, lying on top of the covers — with her shoes on — looking so smug.
“What? I’m not doing anything,” she replied, her tone amused beyond belief at Adora’s annoyance. “We’re going to sleep in them tonight anyway, what’s the point of keeping them tidy?”
“The point is that we’re not meant to be in bed right now anyway,” Adora noted as she closed the door behind her. “Aren’t you meant to be practising for music class?”
“I got bored of doing the same chords over and over.” Catra rolled her eyes. “I know the music by heart now, I don’t need to practise.”
“I’m sure there’s something else you could be doing with your time rather than lie in bed and be lazy.” Adora crossed her arms, looking stern as she eyed Catra. Her friend simply shrugged in return.
An invitation, is what it was. Adora didn’t wait, suddenly moving into action to jump across the space between her and the bed, coming to land on top of Catra as her hands darted to her sides.
“Adora, what—!” Catra didn’t get anything out before Adora started tickling her. The laugh that followed filled the room as Catra’s body squirmed beneath her, trying to shove Adora away to gain some freedom.
But Adora simply doubled down, trying to use her weight to pin Catra where she was.
“What’s wrong, Catra?” she teased as one hand moved to tickle under her chin. “Don’t want to be in bed anymore, huh? Too bad.”
“St— stop!” Catra managed to snicker out, her voice barely audible as her laugh consumed her. It went silent as it deepened in her stomach, her face scrunching up in a hilarious pain. A hand grabbed at Adora’s wrist, forcing her to stop the attack on her chin. “I— can’t breathe!”
“Good. Choke.”
Thankfully for Catra, Adora was pleased with her revenge and she pulled herself back to sit at the bottom of the bed. It gave Catra the time to recover, curling into herself on the bed as her hands rested over her stomach. Her tail flicked closer to Adora.
She rested her chin on her knee, watching Catra with care, a soft smile on her lips.
Once Catra had managed to recover, she peeked back to Adora once again, cheeks still bright from the laughter. “I hope you know that when we have our own place, I am never leaving my bed. Ever.”
“Uh huh,” Adora drawled out as one eyebrow raised up. “Then who’s going to answer the door for the pizza?”
“Can’t I pay someone to do that?”
“I don’t think you’re going to make any money by lying in bed all day.”
Catra rolled her eyes. “I will when we’re already rich and famous. What do you think stupidly rich means, Adora? It’s to do stupid things with your money.”
“I’ll already be doing stupid things with my money seeing as I’m agreeing to live with you.”
Despite Adora’s words, Catra was holding back a grin. She sat herself up on the bed, moving to sit in front of Adora where she could mimic her — chin on knee, mismatched eyes gazing into her blue ones. Adora felt her tail flick against her once again, tempted to get closer.
“I don’t want to wait,” she whispered, like she was sharing a secret. “Not another year, it’s too long.”
“It’s just a year, Catra,” Adora reassured her. “And then we’ll have the rest of our lives.”
Her fingertips found Catra’s hand, where they brushed across the top of her skin. Gentle, whispering a promise through touch. Catra’s lips twitched, the corners betraying her with her softer side, but she smothered it down with her best attempts.
It was not enough, as her tail wrapped itself around Adora’s wrist, accepting her promise.
Their spell broke as the handle of the bedroom door twisted. The sound had Catra pulling herself back, flopping back down onto the bed with such force and speed that it almost looked painful. Adora sat herself up to attention, spinning around in time to see Ms Weaver present herself. Her sullen eyes darted between the two of them, questioning, but Adora knew she wouldn’t say the words they feared most.
She would not speak it into existence, even if she knew.
“Adora.” Even though it was just her name, it felt like a command. Adora pushed herself off of the bed, standing to attention. “I need you downstairs. You have visitors.”
“Visitors?” Adore repeated, frowning with the word. She twisted back around to Catra, sharing a look with her for a moment — why on earth would I have visitors?
“It would appear so.” Something told Adora that Ms Weaver was no happier about the fact, for whatever reason. The woman hated children, and she’d made their lives misery — like they needed any more of it as children without families — but the fact she even owned an orphanage was a mystery. Her displeasure in the situation only encouraged the nerves that flushed in Adora’s stomach. “Downstairs, now. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”
Adora nodded. She slipped past Ms Weaver into the hallway, but stopped as her voice came again.
“C’yra? I do believe you should be working on your music homework, no?”
“Yes, Ms Weaver.”
“That’s what I thought. Downstairs, quickly.”
Adora waited, not looking back, but she refused to move until Catra was at her side. They made their way downstairs, sharing one last look with each other at the bottom before Catra turned into one of the study rooms and Adora entered Ms Weaver’s office.
Adora swore she had never seen Catra look so shaken in her life.
* * *
“Princess She-Ra,” Catra greeted, a smile on her lips. “What an honour it is to meet you.”
Meet you. As if she were a stranger, nothing more than new flesh. Words had never pierced Adora’s heart so easily. They sliced her open, choking her on the blood, leaving her speechless.
She’d changed. Adora knew she had, she’d been no stranger to seeing pictures of her online and in papers, or on a television screen when she least expected it. Catra had grown, her body filling out the shape that had seemed so skinny and awkward in their teenage years. She knew how to show it off, wearing tight leather trousers and a silken shirt that was unbuttoned at the top — maybe one button too many. She wore her hair cut back short around her ears, a drastic change from the mane that had silhouetted her face nicely.
Adora knew all of this, and yet it still seemed so strange to see it in person in front of her. Even her face had changed, angles accentuated by minimal makeup that Catra had never worn in her younger years.
Her eyes however — the blue and yellow that faintly glowed — they had not changed.
They simply lacked any emotion at all.
“A pleasure,” Adora finally spoke, finding the words leaving her without any real guidance. She raised a hand between them, partially out of habit, but was shocked when Catra took it and shook. Her grip was firm, and Adora was surprised she did not feel claws in the back of her hand.
“My granddaughter is a big fan of Catra’s music,” Galen spoke up, completely missing the tension that gripped around Adora’s lungs like a vice, or the fact that neither of the women he stood with had blinked since meeting each other. Adora was sure her pain must have been readable on her expression, but Catra remained pleasant with that perfectly engineered smile.
It stung to witness, and Adora did not need to be told that what she was seeing in front of her was whoever Catra had created for the public — practised until her bones hurt, until her skin cracked with fake.
Catra was not showing herself to Adora.
So why was she here?
“Your granddaughter has good taste,” Adora said, her voice still lacking emotion as she struggled to even understand her own.
“I’m glad you think so,” Catra replied. While the person that stood in front of Adora lacked any familiarity, she could not deny the confidence that came from her. The performance that came from her, designed to hurt her in her most vulnerable places. Was this what she was expecting? Was this what she was wanting? “As soon as I realised who I was speaking to I just knew I had to meet the one and only She-Ra. A once in a lifetime opportunity, wouldn’t you say?”
“Well, I wouldn’t quite put it that way.” Adora’s heart drummed harder, her words only feeling more difficult to get out. She thought it would get easier, but instead the tension continued to build. It was like a balloon inside of her, inflating in her chest until it felt tight. Until she felt sick. The dread was ready to consume her the longer the interaction went on for.
“Please, Princess,” the nickname came from Catra’s lips naturally, like she’d been saying it all her life. All it did was make Adora feel cold. “I know you wouldn’t waste your precious time on little old me any other way. You’re an important person, after all.”
“And what are you, if not that?”
“Me?” Catra chuckled. “I’m just a distraction.”
Adora could not answer. She searched Catra’s face for any remnant of her long ago friend, but Catra remained stubborn — blank in her true feelings, empty of memories. The urge to grab her shoulders and shake her back into her being was strong.
She could not stand the ghost that faced her.
Galen laughed, still unaware of what was playing out before him. “I’m sure we can come up with something to make sure this is not a one time thing. Catra, may I interest you in another drink?”
“Oh, no,” Catra — finally — broke her eye contact with Adora to set her attention on Galen. “I must be leaving, actually. It has been a wonderful evening though. A night I’ll never forget.”
That last sentence was directed back to Adora, sharp on her tongue that once again aimed to maim. Adora felt every single word slice at her, permanently marking her with vicious intent.
Adora was sure she’d never forget it either — how Catra treated her like a stranger, or just how sick it made her feel to be one.
Her company left her, Catra turning on her heel and Galen quickly following to walk her from the room. Adora felt the sky collapse on her as she was suddenly left alone in peace. She sucked in a shaky breath, light-headed after the encounter. She did not notice how weak she really felt until the sturdy and reliable hand of Juliet appeared out of nowhere, pressed against her back to keep her up right.
“Ma’am?” she spoke into her ear. “Are you alright?”
Adora could not answer that question, unsure of how she was really feeling. It all mixed together in her head, lost behind the thoughts that felt clearer as they forced themselves to the forefront of her mind.
So she ignored the question, and instead turned to Juliet with a request.
“Do whatever it takes to find out what room Catra is staying in.”
* * *
“What do you mean England?”
Adora kept her back to Catra, pretending to focus on the packing of her bag. In truth, she could not find it in herself to turn around. The pain in Catra’s voice was enough to paint a picture in her mind — she did not want to have to see the real thing.
Her heart was numb — Adora wanted to keep it that way.
She hid a shaky hand by folding another t-shirt to slip into the bag. It barely functioned as a suitcase, but she had nothing else to her name. Just the few tattered outfits she’d gained living at Ms Weaver’s orphanage, and what little mementos she could claim as her own belongings.
When her voice finally came again, it was monotone.
“That’s what they said,” she told Catra as she picked her pairs of socks from her drawer. “I’m going to England.”
“But that’s a whole fucking ocean away, Adora.” The words tumbled out of Catra, her tongue almost twisting on them, but the desperation for her to be heard had Catra somehow keeping them together. Adora heard every drip of devastation, of betrayal, that laced her words. They echoed inside her head, printing themselves onto her mind. Adora was not about to let herself forget this.
Over the years, Adora had seen the worst of Catra, seen the worst done to Catra. She’d witnessed the mistakes she’d made, how she’d excused them with weak pride. She’d watched as she’d thrown herself into messes with little care, like she was out for self destruction. She’d stood by her side during fights in school, fights Catra had surely started. Fights she’d hissed and bit and scratched and made people feel her pain. Her pain of being abandoned, of growing up in this wretched house, of the marks left on her skin by the woman who was supposed to be protecting them. Adora had sat with her in the dark of the night, holding her close as she’d cried and pleaded for it to end, for her hurt to be taken away.
She’d heard her beg in her ear for them to find safety in each other, and Adora had granted it to her time and time again.
And yet, Catra’s voice had never sounded as broken as it did now, held together by nothing but her refusal to understand.
If Adora wanted to keep herself safe from it, Catra wouldn’t let her. Suddenly a hand was on her shoulder, forcing her to turn around and face what she had done. Adora was right. Catra's voice had hurt to hear but it did not compare to the abandonment she held in her eyes or the broken expression that changed her face.
She couldn’t believe she was at fault for it.
“So, that’s just it,” Catra continued, and her words shook more as whatever power she’d held before disintegrated. “Some old men come here out of nowhere, tell you you’re some long lost Princess, and you just fuck off to the other side of the world?”
“I don’t have a choice,” Adora’s voice came small.
“You always have a choice!” Catra finally broke with tears dripping down her face. “Aren’t I worth that?!”
“Catra…” Adora trembled. Her fingertips reached out, grazing over the back of Catra’s hand, but she yanked it away quickly. No more promises. The motion of it stung, but Adora couldn’t blame her — not as she broke every single promise she’d ever made.
Catra’s face twisted as she took a step back, putting distance between them. Hands wiped at her tears, making her skin blotchy. It was like a silent horror movie — Catra falling further and further away from her as her future fell apart, Adora’s heart breaking with every fear that became a reality.
Catra couldn’t stand it — couldn’t keep herself in place in that room anymore. She turned away, wordlessly, and marched out of the bedroom. The door slammed behind her, and Adora listened to retreating footsteps until her only company was the lonely silence.
In the end, there wasn’t enough to pack. Not enough to keep her there. Not enough to stretch out the time to allow Catra to find her again. Adora had solemnly descended down the stairs, dropping her bag by the office as the old men in question stood waiting for her.
The car was already waiting.
“Don’t I get to say goodbye to anyone?” Adora had turned to Ms Weaver, eyes begging for the opportunity.
“They are busy, Adora,” she droned, placing a wicked hand on her shoulder to push her along. “You have better things waiting for you.”
As the car pulled away, Adora stared out at the home, wishing she might see a pair of glowing eyes in the top window.
When she saw nothing, the numb finally broke, and Adora felt everything.
* * *
The evening had ended some time ago. Adora had retreated to her own room, never quite making her original escape, and never finding the moment to reconvene with Glimmer and the rest of the Princesses.
She’d been lost, her mind falling back to twelve years previously. Back to an unwelcoming home in the middle of Pennsylvania. It had been a day she’d forced herself into forgetting, to never relive in her head as to keep her heart from breaking once again. Now it was difficult to not think of everything that had gone wrong — everything she had done wrong — knowing that Catra was somewhere in the same building as her.
It felt like an opportunity — but twelve years was surely too late.
You always have a choice.
Even as she relieved herself from the dress she wore, pulling on a cashmere sweater and comfortable trousers to relax in before bed, Adora could not stop rolling the choices around in her head.
She could stay in her room for the rest of the night. Go to bed, where she'd lay awake all night with a restless head. She'd wait it out until the morning, when she would fall back into the routine of her life and pretend none of it had happened.
Or, she could leave and check if Juliet managed the one request she had asked of her.
Adora was sure the staff of her Court would tell her it was a bad idea. She was sure Bow would tell her to rethink, Glimmer would tell her not to be stupid. She was sure Catra would tell her not to be ridiculous, that she did not want to see her in return, that she was not welcome.
And yet, she could not ignore the fact that Catra had sought her out earlier in the evening.
It was stupid, it was reckless.
And Adora could not stop herself.
“Juliet,” Adora asked as she stepped out of her bedroom, walking into the main sitting room of the suite where her bodyguard sat to attention. Juliet stood as Adora stopped. “The room I asked you about, did you—?”
“I did.”
Adora pressed her lips together, her heart fluttering at the prospect of what she was doing. “Thank you.” She stood in place, fingers tapping against her own legs as that restless energy came to her. How was she supposed to go about this?
To her surprise, Juliet did not have to be asked. “I can escort you there, if you would like.”
She was almost embarrassed by how easy she was to read, but ultimately she was relieved, and nodded in reply.
They went down a floor. It seemed unlikely to her that any of the suites were different, that the floors meant nothing in somewhere so grand. Juliet took her down the corridor that opposed her own. They passed only a couple of others in the hallways at this time, but Adora kept her head down anyway, not wanting to be recognised.
When they came to a stop, Juliet knocked on a door.
A stranger appeared on the other side of the wood, looking just as professional as Juliet did.
“Good evening, sir,” Juliet took the lead but she kept her voice down, keeping their conversation between the two of them. “Princess She-Ra would like to meet with Catra, if that is alright.”
It came as a surprise to him. His eyes settled on Adora, and she saw the recognition flash through them. She could see the puzzlement on his face, followed by a quick word. “A moment, please.” The door closed on the two of them, leaving them alone.
Adora found herself holding her breath as she waited, the tension building in her body. If there were whispered voices behind the door, she could not hear them. Juliet seemed unbothered beside her, taking quick glances down the corridor as they waited. Adora was the opposite as the seconds ticked by. Suddenly she realised she hadn’t planned for the scenario where Catra turned her away, where Catra said no, where she did not give her the opportunity to speak. The door in front of her suddenly felt terrifying — a mouth ready to swallow her once the conclusion came.
When it opened once again, it felt like her end. The man on the other side nodded and stepped aside to allow Adora and Juliet to enter. She swallowed down a lump before taking that leap of faith as she advanced over the threshold.
Her previous thoughts were correct — the suite was just like her own, with a large sitting area being the first she sees. More personnel stood between the chairs — a rather large woman with intimidating muscles. Her face was softer though as she directed a hand towards what Adora knew to be the bedroom.
So Catra was still hiding.
Adora nodded to the woman, shared a last look with Juliet behind her, and then moved for the bedroom on her own. She knocked gently, announcing her arrival before she let herself in, closing and leaning on the door inside.
Catra stood with her back towards her. She was on the other side of the room beside an armchair that sat in front of the full length windows. The curtains were barely open, but Adora could see a strip of black from the outside, and she could still hear the light pattering of raindrops on the glass. Catra was still in her party clothes, though notably lacking her shoes now. The silk shirt still draped from her shoulders. Her arms seemed to be held up at her waist. Adora looked down, and she could see Catra pouring herself a glass of red wine.
“So,” she spoke up, still not looking to Adora. “I’m not even allowed the luxury of privacy in my own room now.”
She wasn’t confrontational, but Adora could hear the displeasure in Catra’s tone. Her heart jumped, suddenly wondering if this was a good idea at all. Had she read the previous interaction all wrong?
But Adora had made it this far — she could not allow herself to be shaken.
“What are you doing here?” Adora asked, stepping away from the door. She wanted to be further inside the room, but she knew to keep her distance from Catra still — they were not that friendly just yet.
Catra’s shoulders shook with a laugh, placing the wine bottle onto a table, and turned to face Adora. “I was invited, is that not obvious?”
“By who?”
Catra raised her eyebrows. “I’m the biggest selling music artist in the world, who else do you think they’re going to invite to these things?” She paused, waiting for Adora to say something, but when it did not happen she rolled her eyes. “And… Princess Scorpia may have invited me personally.”
“You know Princess Scorpia?”
“I know lots of people, Princess,” Catra pointedly replied, taking a drink from her wine glass while not breaking eye contact with Adora.
Each word that came from her sounded more jaded. The unfriendly nickname especially. Adora watched her face for the smallest of shifts, feeling the need to be careful. She didn’t want her curiosities to turn into an argument, but Adora knew Catra. She knew her nature, she knew what she was like with escalating interactions, and she could already feel it brewing between them.
Catra, apparently, was not as cautious. She dropped herself into the armchair, draping one arm over the side while the other held her wine glass still. “Why the hell are you here, Adora?”
Adora swallowed but set her shoulders straight, trying to find her own confidence. “You were the one that found me in the ballroom, Catra. You didn’t have to do it, don’t act like you don’t have something to say either.”
“Oh, do I now?” Catra cocked her head to the side, her tone turning more cruel. “And what might that be?”
Adora’s mouth struggled, opening with voiceless words as her brain scrambled to catch up with her. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.” When they came, they came harsher than she intended. She was mimicking Catra, following her lead in how this conversation was going. Her want to be cautious was quickly dissolving faster than Adora could even realise it. “What, was it morbid curiosity?”
Catra smirked. Adora hated it. “You know what, I like the sound of that. Morbid curiosity… Sure, we’ll go with that.”
“Catra,” Adora pleaded, voice breaking ever so slightly. “Talk to me, please.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.” Her voice came sharp, loud, quick, and Adora realised with the power of it that Catra was throwing herself off the ledge, no longer holding back as her emotions got the better of her. “I resent you.”
The word chilled her. It felt like a punch to the gut. For a moment Adora was speechless, her heart hurting with it. She bit at the inside of her cheek, trying to keep herself steady, but she could already feel pressure behind her eyes with the threat of tears.
“Then why?” she asked, eventually. Adora was going to keep digging until Catra gave her a real answer. “Why seek me out?”
Catra scoffed, taking another drink from her wine glass before placing it back down on the table. The connection came too fast, the sound louder than seemed reasonable for the glass, but luckily it did not shatter.
“Because I was stupid.”
It was a surprise to hear from her and Adora felt taken aback by it. Catra instead seemed annoyed, as if speaking those words and finally coming out with a truth was her breaking her own barriers. She shook her head again, the muscles on her face twitching before she pushed herself up onto her feet.
She took a step closer. Another. Adora could see her hands flexing.
“I was so fucking stupid,” she started again, words filled with rage. “It was a fucking test, Adora. I wanted to know if it’d still hurt. I wanted to know if any of it mattered anymore, I wanted to know if I still cared. I thought it’d be easy, that I'd be able to just look at your idiot face and not feel anything, but I was so fucking stupid.”
Three times she said it. Three times Adora wanted to tell her to stop, to not be so hard on herself. She didn’t want to hear Catra talk about herself like that.
But Catra was tense. She couldn’t keep herself still even in the one spot she stood on, moving between her feet with her hands flexing at her side. Her face was twisting into something pained.
She’d been so confident in herself, so easy — and now all of it was breaking through. Adora felt like she was standing with her old friend, years younger. Smaller. Familiar. She felt like she was seeing the girl who had stood in that bedroom, fighting back tears, running when she failed. She was seeing Catra — her Catra. The one she left behind all those years ago.
The familiarity crossed her face as she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” Catra snapped quickly. “Don’t you dare start talking to me like that now.”
“Then how am I supposed to talk to you?” Adora asked, her voice rising once again. They might as well get it out now while they could — while they had each other in this room. Twelve years of unspoken words. There was so much she’d wanted to say, never believing she’d get the chance.
She couldn’t let it get away from her now.
“I don’t want you to talk to me!” Catra snapped angrily. “Why is that so difficult for you to understand?!”
“Because maybe this isn’t just about what you want!” The words tumbled out of her mouth, messy as her nerves got the better of her. Adora could feel Catra’s fire burning through her now. The frustration of wanting to be heard when she wasn’t being given the chance. It was the same frustration she’d felt for all those years, finally exploding on the one person who deserved it the least.
She couldn’t be angry at Catra, but god did she rile her up.
“Then what is it you want, Adora?” Catra’s face deepened in colour, her eyes flashing with a warning. Or maybe not a warning — a dare. Do it. Push me. You’ll regret it.
Adora gripped her own fists tight at her side.
“Spit it out,” Catra continued to taunt, taking casual steps forward again, closer and closer. Inviting herself into Adora’s space, invading it, as she continued to push, push, push. “You’re getting your chance, don’t fucking waste it.”
Don’t waste it. And yet, when they were standing this close together, the opportunity right before her, Adora had no idea where to start. With her apology again? With a wish of how she could have done things differently? Was she supposed to ask Catra about her life, about how she was? All of it filtered into her head, all of it desperate to say.
Catra wasn’t going to allow her all that. She knew that, at least.
“Do you think I wanted any of this?” was what finally came out of her mouth, voice cracking. It barely scratched the surface of what was boiling inside of her, but it seemed the easiest for now.
Even if it wasn’t a real answer to Catra’s question.
“Seems like a dream come true, don’t you think?” Catra growled, her tone more snide and unforgiving as she went. “Escaping a shitty upbringing to become a princess? It’s like a fucking Disney movie.”
“I didn’t want to leave you.” Adora was begging in everything but words. Begging for Catra to give her the chance she so desperately wanted. Her heart raced faster, knowing this was all she had — the only chance Catra would ever give her. She couldn’t, she couldn’t turn her back on her again, not until everything was said.
“But you did! And you didn’t even say goodbye!” Hurt broke through the anger of Catra, sharp to strike her deep. Right into her heart, tearing it at the seams. “It doesn’t matter what you say now, Adora, because nothing — nothing is going to change the fact that I’ve hated you every day of my life since you left.”
Then don’t say it. The words filtered into Adora’s mind. She was unsure of their origin but she believed in them. If Catra wouldn’t let her say it, if she wouldn’t listen, then Adora would happily show her a different way.
Her heart was falling to pieces. Heat engulfed her as her blood pumped through her veins, loud in her ears, and she was so very desperate.
Adora’s hands reached out, grabbing the opened collar of Catra’s silk shirt, and pulled her in. Their lips crashed together, uneven and awkward until they found their fit like missing puzzle pieces. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she applied a feverish pressure, unable to shake her agony. She wanted to drink every bit of it in, tasting Catra’s lips, her mouth, the faint red wine that lingered from her drink.
Hands grabbed onto her wrists. Her heart jumped at the contact, but nothing came of it immediately. Just another pressure, another warmth, until all of it was ripped away. Catra yanked herself backwards, breaking the connection of their lips — but that was it. Her hands stayed where they were, fingers wrapped around her wrists, and her body stayed dangerously close.
As Adora opened her eyes again, they stayed firmly on Catra’s. She was pissed — furious that Adora would blindside her like that, that she would use anything other than her words.
Please, Adora wanted to beg. She let her eyes cry it out. Please, please, please.
Catra’s still said the same. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
And yet, after gripping Adora’s wrists tighter, Catra pulled her back in to return that kiss.
It was less harsh this time, less rushed, and Adora found herself enjoying it so much more. The way they fitted together almost perfectly. Catra didn’t bother waiting, her tongue pressing forward to part lips. Adora welcomed her gladly, following the lead she so greedily took.
And then one wrist was free, Catra’s hand reached behind her head to run her fingers through her hair. She pulled her in somehow closer, increasing that pressure once again. Adora’s one free hand immediately took advantage of that, releasing her collar to follow the silk down to her breast. The shape of it felt perfect through the fabric, and a thumb brushed enticingly over her nipple.
That gained a growl in return. It rumbled against her lips, coming deep from Catra’s throat. A nip to her bottom lip quickly followed, and Adora only just managed a whine against her lips before suddenly they were apart again.
Catra was wordless, but her eyes were hungry. Adora fell deep into them, almost getting lost if it wasn’t for Catra’s hands. They slipped down to her waist, quickly finding the hem of her sweater and starting to lift up. It tickled where her thumbs touched the small space of bare skin between her trousers and her undershirt — a promise of what was to come.
But not yet. Catra wouldn’t let up. Her body moved against Adora’s, walking them both backwards, guiding her as her hands still pulled the sweater up. Eventually Adora took over, pulling it over her head and dropping it to the side. A hand on her back kept her from tripping in the moment she was blind, keeping her close to Catra as her mouth returned to her — but not to her lips. Catra’s, instead, found the skin on her neck, kissing her greedily until the back of Adora’s legs met something.
The two of them sank down to the bed, Catra quickly finding her place on top as she straddled Adora. And still her mouth worked against her, tongue pressing against skin before she felt the sharp nip of her fangs. Adora gasped, finding it in her to pull one leg up to press between Catra’s legs.
It was intoxicating.
Catra’s lips were replaced by her fingers as she wrapped a hand around her neck. It was gentle, no pressure beneath her fingertips, as Catra moved back to kissing Adora’s lips again. She was hungry in her action but savouring it. It was deep, slow, taking her time to enjoy every taste of her.
Catra groaned against her lips, and it was the most delicious sound Adora had ever heard.
The grip on her neck tightened — not too hard to hurt, but enough to be surprising. Their lips ripped apart as Catra pulled herself up, hovering above Adora. They stared at each other, breathless, and for a moment Adora was terrified that was it.
“This is not because I like you,” Catra told her.
And despite the fact every action proved otherwise, Adora knew how to answer. “‘Course.”
That was all she needed. Catra shuddered, and for a split second Adora believed she saw something other than anger flash across her face. It was gone just as quickly before she could tell what it was, and Catra closed the distance once again to find her lips. It was rough once again, with teeth dragging at her lip and claws digging into her side.
And that was fine. Adora could live with that, could live with Catra’s hatred finding its way onto her skin. She’d allow herself to feel it physical while her heart burned and ached. She’d allow for twelve years worth of anger to spill out between them.
She would allow all of it, if this was the only way she could have it.
As long as she could have it, this was bliss.
* * *
FOURTEEN YEARS PREVIOUSLY
There was a space at the top of the house that no one knew about.
Well, maybe they do, but they don’t know how to get there. Not like Adora did. The only entrance was through the trapdoor in the roof — the one located in the upstairs bedroom. Ms Weaver’s bedroom. There was no chance anyone would even try to enter just for the chance of sneaking into the loft space, and Adora was no different.
She did not, however, care about sneaking in through the window.
It was a difficult manoeuvre, especially when she held a bowl in her hand. She had to be careful with her footsteps going up the stairs, careful not to be heard climbing higher to the top floor. She had to be careful when sliding open the window, ducking through, and making sure her footing was perfect on the slanted roof so she wouldn’t fall. She had to be careful to clamber up further, up to the dirty window in the roof that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. It was only when she got close that she could see the telltale signs of use.
But those could have been from last week, when they’d come up here together.
Adora wiggled her fingers under the small space they always left for themselves. It was awkward to push the window up with one hand at this angle, and in the growing darkness of the evening, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of worry. Despite how natural it came to her, she couldn’t help but think there was a higher chance of her falling now.
So once the stiff window had been pushed to a half-open state, Adora took her chances, and crawled her way inside.
“Catra?” she whispered, careful to not make noise as she stepped down from the windowsill, and careful to keep the bowl upright. “Catra, are you here?”
Her eyes scanned the darkness. It might have been a clue that she wasn’t, that she was hiding somewhere else, but Adora knew that didn’t work for the likes of Catra.
Especially when, after she heard some shuffling, Adora saw a pair of glowing eyes peering at her through the darkness.
A soft, warm smile came to her own lips as she tiptoed her way across the floor.
“I brought you pudding,” she said quietly, voice low, but it was filled with kindness. She settled down next to Catra, knowing that below her was their homemade den of old blankets and pillows.
“Is it mine?” Catra asked, doubt in her voice. It was difficult to see expressions in the dark, but Adora could make out the small shift of her eyebrows changing the shape of her eyes. Hopefully, her own would adjust to the darkness in a moment.
“Well, no,” Adora confessed sheepishly. “It’s mine but I wanted to share it with you.”
“You don’t have to share anything with me.” Catra was defensive, Adora could at least hear that.
“But I want to,” Adora replied, unfazed by Catra’s unwillingness to accept any kind of help. “I don’t want you going to bed hungry.”
Her fingers found the spoon in the bowl of chocolate pudding, metal clinking against ceramic as she took a spoonful for herself. Delicious. The sweet treat was just the perfect way to end the day, to warm her tummy with a goodness that would send her to bed happy.
But there’s a rumble from a nearby stomach, and Adora knows it would do better to go to Catra.
If even to just stop those rumbles so she wouldn’t have to hear them all night long.
“See, I had my share, now it’s your turn.” She reached out, finding Catra’s hands in the dark so she could safely shove the bowl into them.
Catra glanced down at the bowl in her hands. Already Adora could better see the shape of her face through the dark, better see her lips. How they part a little with the surprise. “You don’t have to.” The words are unsure, soft spoken, like Catra might be afraid of them.
Adora has no idea why that would be.
Her hand finds Catra’s knee, a reassuring touch. “I want to.” She’d already said those words, but Adora did not mind reaffirming them. She didn’t know what Catra had done to piss off Weaver tonight, but it wasn’t fair to refuse her dinner. It wasn’t fair to send her to bed hungry. If this was the only way Adora could help, then she was more than happy to.
When Catra’s eyes meet hers again, they were wide. Bright with something. Thankfulness, possibly, but Adora thought it was something more tender than that. More intimate.
Adora wished to question it, but she struggled to find her voice as she watched those eyes. Watched as they flicked down on her own face, lingering. Watched as Catra leaned forward until their lips met, and Catra’s eyes were open no more.
They stayed like that, still, for only mere seconds. Adora’s mind was too scrambled to count, but she didn’t think it mattered. All that mattered was how her heart jolted in her chest, how she recognised the softness of Catra’s lips, how a tingling warmth spread through her stomach.
How cold she felt when Catra pulled herself back.
When their eyes met again, Adora watched as Catra's pupils shrunk in fear.
“Sorry,” she uttered, slow for a moment before everything caught up with her at once, and suddenly Catra was functioning at double the speed. “Sorry— sorry, I didn’t mean that, I— I didn’t mean to—”
“Catra.” Adora is firm in her tone, reaching out to grab at Catra’s shoulder, to calm her down, to centre her back in her being. It worked, as the words cut off and her wide eyes were back on Adora — terrified.
“Don’t.” A one word response, and it took Adora a moment to realise that it — of course — was not enough. She felt her cheeks warm and she wondered if Catra would be able to see the colour that flooded them even in the dark. “Don’t apologise.”
She would hate for Catra to think she’d done anything wrong.
And to prove it, Adora leaned back in. A little slower, but surer, as she pressed their lips together again.
In that moment, Adora thought — she does not need the pudding after all. What warmth spreads through her from Catra alone would be enough to send her to bed happy after all.
* * *
Her hands shook behind her back as she clasped her bra back on.
Silence. A horrible silence had fallen over the room some time ago, though she wasn’t sure when it started. When their breathing had returned to normal, she thought. Once the heat had died down and they’d been still between the sheets.
When her mind had got back to her soon after.
She had been swift to remove herself from the bed. Wordless as she gathered her discarded clothing from the floor. Underwear and trousers on first before she sat back down on the edge, slipping feet into shoes.
And now she was here, pulling her undershirt on over her head. Adora was aware of how her body ached. Red scratches left on her skin, covering her back, her sides, her thighs. Bite marks and bruises where those kisses had become aggressive, where Catra had let her hatred paint Adora like a canvas.
Reminders — still seeping into her tissue, and Adora could not stop thinking about them.
At least as she pulled her sweater over her head, she was covering the last of them — almost. There wasn’t much she could do about those left on her neck other than let her hair drape across her shoulders and hope that shadows would disguise them enough.
Adora stilled for a moment, hands placed on the bed at either side of her as she steadied her breathing.
She was aware of how her body ached — how it ached down to her core.
She turned herself around, looking to where Catra still laid. She was under the duvet still, though one bare knee had been pulled up, the sheet falling from it completely. Catra rested with her head against the headboard, her eyes on her fingers that fiddled and picked at the opposing hand.
Adora wished she would look at her, but Catra made no attempt to.
There were a million things she wanted to say at that moment. She wanted to apologise again, for whatever it was worth. She wanted to confess her feelings through something other than the actions they’d just expressed. She wanted to tell her how her heart ached for her, how they could make everything okay after this, how none of this was wrong.
But reality, sadly, was catching up with her, and Adora could not find it in herself to say any of those.
“You can’t tell anyone about this,” was what she eventually said with a quavering voice.
Catra did not look at her.
“You got it.”
Her voice came easy. Practised. Adora instantly recognised it as something she’d heard earlier in the evening. She was closing herself off again, doing so with a stoney expression on her face that gave Adora no clue as to what was going through her mind.
That somehow hurt more than anything else Catra could have said. There was a burn behind her eyes again, down her throat, threatening to have her emotions unleash right there. Adora could not allow that. Her teeth clenched together, hands gripping tighter to the mattress as she tried to control her own emotions, but Adora knew she was failing herself.
The way her heart hurt was proof enough of that.
This was a mistake.
All of it. Coming here, trying to speak to her, kissing her — how stupid could she be?
There was nothing left to do. She nodded solemnly and turned herself back around, facing the wall of the bedroom. Adora allowed herself one, two, three seconds before she lifted her chin with something of dignity and moved off of the bed. A part of her still hoped that as she walked across the room to the door, Catra would say something.
Adora.
Wait.
Come back.
Anything.
As she closed the door behind her, she got nothing.
It was easy, refusing eye contact with the personnel that still sat on this side of the door. Somewhere she wished she could be embarrassed, but whatever shame she might have felt was drowned by something much worse. She wasn’t even sure if she asked for Juliet, or if she had simply left the suite without a word.
All that she could fathom was the crushing weight in her chest as she felt the break of her heart all over again.
Chapter 2: haunt all of my what-ifs
Summary:
Paris, a birthday, and what might as well be love letters.
Notes:
chapter title is from cardigan by taylor swift.
there's a little bit of French in this chapter that's translated in the end notes, but there is context within the chapter. anyway, onto the story!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I never call your name, but you are in me like the song in the
nightingale's throat even when it's not singing.”
— Dulce María Loynaz
OCTOBER, TWENTY-NINETEEN,
PARIS
It was a relief once the meeting had come to a close. Adora was quick to grab her belongings — sheets shoved into a folder and pens collected and phone pocketed — before she was up and moving. As she made her way towards the meeting door, she nodded some quick goodbyes to others. Not once did she slow as she dash her way towards the door and out into the corridor—
And almost straight into a cup of coffee.
Adora’s eyes turned to find who was holding out the to-go cup like a trap — Juliet, who did so with a pleasant expression.
“Really?” she asked, and though she felt exhausted, there was some appreciation in her tone. They shuffled over to the side, giving way for any others leaving the meeting as quickly as Adora did. “You’re not my assistant, you don’t need to go grabbing coffee for me.”
“I thought after today, it was the least you deserved,” Juliet replied, still pleasant but nothing too forward.
Adora found herself smiling at the care, and though it was small, it was the first she’d smiled all day. “Thank you, Juliet,” she said as she took the cup before beginning to move for the exit. “One day I’m going to marry you.”
“Highly inappropriate.” Yet Adora still heard the amusement in her voice at the proposition.
They made their way through the building. The day had been long, filled with meetings from the Eternian Court with the French Government. Adora had only understood half of the conversations in French, but at least some had been in English that she could participate in. Conversations that had, understandably, confused Adora further. She’d heard them mentioning the Moonstone. She wasn’t stupid, even if they’d been discussing it in another language.
It was neither the Eternian’s or the French Government’s place to be discussing happenings with Bright Moon’s Runestone.
The friend in her knew she had to mention it to Glimmer again, to warn her that something was going on, but she wasn’t sure how much help she would be when she didn’t have any real answers for the questions that would come.
Disappointing, is what it was, and the stress of it was wearing Adora down.
What was the point of knowing any of this if she couldn’t be any real help?
Once they were free from the building, Adora finally felt free to speak openly with Juliet. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“You’re meeting with Princess Netossa and Princess Spinnerella,” Juliet informed her. As soon as she mentioned the names, Adora remembered the plan.
“Right, right, of course.” That, at least, was something to look forward to. Sure, there would be some formalities to the occasion, but Netossa and Spinnerella were people Adora genuinely enjoyed the company of. It would be nice to see them once again, to catch up with them, to relax with them.
But that wasn’t until tomorrow night.
“I’d like to make plans to go back to England as soon as possible,” Adora spoke over her shoulder to Juliet as they descended the stone steps. Down to the waiting car to be escorted back to the hotel. “I would like to visit Glimmer.”
“Of course,” Juliet confirmed as she stepped down the stairs to get in front of Adora — just in time to open the car door for her. Adora smiled her appreciation once again, but just before she stepped into the vehicle, her eyes caught something over the roof.
A billboard, bright and shining to catch the attention of anyone driving along the road.
Large words no one could ignore: CATRA, IN CONCERT.
Adora’s heart stopped.
It had been months since that night, since Adora had seen her face. She’d somehow miraculously avoided seeing it anywhere else, and Adora had counted it as a blessing. It was easier to forget that way, to ignore what pain she still felt. It was easy to fall back into the routine she’d been playing for twelve years now.
But here was a reminder, shining bright into her face — quite literally.
Her eyes scanned over the dates.
“Ma’am?” Juliet prompted, bringing Adora back to the present. Their eyes met once again, but Adora was sure her own had turned glassy.
The pain spiked in her chest remembering that night, and her stomach tensed as she heard every word Catra had stabbed her with. They had never left her, her mind drifting to them every so often, but it did not stop the hurt she felt.
That could surely be seen in her eyes.
“Catra’s playing tonight.” The comment was dry. Juliet turned around, spotting the billboard herself. There was a look of understanding once she’d turned herself back to Adora.
Because Juliet was the only one that really knew. Even if they hadn’t spoken a word of it to each other since. Adora did not need to tell her what had happened that night, and she had not felt the need to ask how it made Adora feel.
Not with the way she’d cried herself to sleep.
Now she stood still, waiting for Adora to recover herself, to place herself in the car.
And she would, but first—
“Get me in that concert.” A stupid decision, she knew, but Adora could not stop herself. “Please.”
For a moment, Adora thought Juliet was going to say something. Advice, maybe. It would not be her place, but Adora had never said as such to Juliet before. As they spent more time together, Juliet had become friendlier. She had become someone with opinions that Adora would happily take into account. It would not be the first time that Juliet had cautioned Adora against her own choices.
Much to her surprise, Juliet instead said “I thought I wasn’t your assistant?”
Easy, joking, but with a determination in her eye that told Adora she would take the role with grace.
“Thank you,” she uttered before stepping into the car.
* * *
TEN YEARS PREVIOUSLY
Catra had always believed that leaving the crowded, noisy, busy world of Ms Weaver’s orphanage would finally bring her the peace she deserved. It was almost comical how wrong she had been.
Living with three others had not been her choice, but such was the reality for a young girl with nothing to her name trying to make a life in New York City. The apartment was cheap — for New York — with barely any room to move, creaky floors and thin walls and power that barely worked half the time. It was the last place she wanted to be living, but it was the only thing she could afford.
For now.
Her roommates were no better for the experience. Especially on nights like tonight, where Catra was struggling in the kitchen trying to make use of the small space to make dinner for them all, and the three of them were lounged out on the sofa with the television on.
“We’re going to miss the game,” Kyle groaned as he tried to wrestle the remote from Lonnie’s hands. The last roommate, Rogelio, was squashed into the arm of the sofa, ignoring them both with the best of his ability.
“I don’t care! I want the news, alright? Fifteen minutes isn’t that bad, we’ll catch the rest of it.”
See, Catra did not mind having her space in the kitchen. It was cramped enough, she did not need another body getting in the way, but the small space didn’t even have a door and she had to listen to whatever nonsense was going on in the other room with little choice in the matter. it drove her nuts, but she beared with it as she cooked up a sauce for the pasta.
At least she’d learned a few decent cooking skills from Weaver’s place.
“Fifteen minutes can be very important in football!”
“Yeah, you know what else is important? The news! Don’t you want to be informed, Kyle?”
Informed. Catra scoffed, but she was trying to listen to whatever the anchor had to say. Something about budget cuts, something else about a robbery, more politics she didn’t fully understand—
“And lastly, a look to Britain! Tonight, at the decennial Princess Prom, it was announced that the long lost Princess of Power, She-Ra, has been found—”
Catra’s head whipped around at a break-neck speed. She felt it twinge, but Catra didn’t care as she left the kitchen to go stand behind the sofa, watching as the news rolled out.
Footage from the Princess Prom that had happened earlier that day — in the evening in Britain — showed a dazzlingly tall Princess. Her hair flowed behind her with an ethereal glow, a golden crown keeping it out of her face. A beautiful white outfit that stretched down her legs, though kept her arms bare. Big, strong, with a sword in hand that glowed with the transformation.
What was most peculiar about it, however, was the face.
A face she knew all too well.
It did not fit.
“—the Princess She-Ra will represent the Eternian Court, as well as being a universal figure for the Etherian Courts as well.”
“Holy shit,” Lonnie commented as more images of the newly discovered Princess flashed across the screen. “They actually found her.”
“So what?” Catra grumbled from behind. All three of her roommates turned to look at her with a variety of looks that went from annoyance to confusion to uncaring. At least she could count on Rogelio to not give a shit about her opinions. “It’s not like it’s that important.”
“It’s She-Ra, the Princess of Power,” Kyle jumped in. “How is that not important?”
“Yeah, and what do they do all day?” Catra asked, waving towards the television and the pictures of the Princesses at their fancy-ass Prom. “They’re useless. So fucking what if there’s another one, big fucking deal. The world moved past the need for Princesses a long time ago.”
Lonnie raised an eyebrow, but turned herself back to the television. “If you say so. I think it’s kind of cool they found her again. You do know it’s been, like, a century since the last She-Ra?”
Catra scoffed as she leaned on the sofa, still watching the news despite ignoring what else they had to say on the matter. She probably knew more than them anyway. “I think we could have gone another century or two without that prissy bitch.”
Catra glared at the image of Adora — She-Ra — smiling on the television, looking bright and happy in her new place in the world. In her fairytale ending, a dream come true.
That was the moment Catra decided — she fucking hated her.
* * *
Catra felt the jitters throughout her body. The normal, pre-show jitters. Even after the hundreds of shows she’d done over the years, nothing could prepare her for the excitement and adrenaline that ran through her every cell.
Even after the exhaustion that came with weeks upon weeks of touring, Catra could feel herself pumped for yet another.
Perhaps it was hearing the crowd in the arena, singing along to the pre-show pop songs that blared through the speakers to keep them entertained. Perhaps it was the feeling of adoration she felt from that same crowd every night as she stepped onto stage. Perhaps it was the fact that it was her birthday, and that alone was enough to bring some extra spark to the show she was about to perform.
Perhaps it was the fact that this was her job — and fuck, did Catra love her job.
She bounced on her heels as she waited for the go, her touring band standing around with her. It was easy to get herself going, to rile herself up to put on the performance of a lifetime every night like clockwork. Performing had always come easy to Catra — it was why she’d never give any of this up.
She just wanted the crew to hurry up and give her the OK.
Catra turned, looking into the backstage crew that were setting up. Any minute now. She’d already checked the clock three times, but it would not hurt to allow herself another glance.
Two minutes to go.
Catra continued her stretching, loosening herself up for the performance. Not that she was much of a dancer, but that didn’t stop her from putting on a show. All anyone had to do was look at her outfit to know what kind of performance she was about to put on. A baggy, dark grey vest top was tucked loosely into red and black tartan checked trousers, and her familiar combat boots she’d broken in so long ago gave her the stomping power she enjoyed on stage. What she performed was loud — it had nothing to do with practised choreography and backup dancers, and all what she could get her crowd to join her in.
As she shook out her arms once again, she spotted Lonnie fast approaching down the darkened backstage passage. Catra frowned, wondering what on earth would have her manager rushing so quickly to see her now, with one minute to spare before the performance started.
She was quick to move into Catra’s space, bringing a hand to her ear as she whispered five haunting words.
“Princess She-Ra is here tonight.”
And just like that, Catra felt her pre-show jitters turn into something more like nausea.
Catra pulled herself back from Lonnie, eyes confused and brow frowned at her. She seemed nervous, as if this was a worst-case scenario playing out before them. That having a Princess at the show was somehow going to turn everything upside down.
Maybe for her.
Maybe with She-Ra.
Catra was frozen in her spot as her mind quickly tried to process what it meant. Too much at once felt like it was exploding in her brain. She’s too aware of everything about it, and Catra doesn’t want to face any of it.
“W-what do you mean?” she stuttered out, gobsmacked by the idea. “Why the fuck is she here?”
Lonnie shrugged her shoulders. “I just got word. She’s here, in the V.I.P. stand, more security is coming—”
That was the last thing Catra cared about. Two months had passed, and she’d heard nothing from the so-called Princess of Power. Two months, and Catra had squashed every emotion she had for that night down into nothing. She had to. For the shows. For her career. For herself.
But now it had caught up with her, here of all places, of all nights.
Catra looked to the band, each member looking as confused and concerned as she was.
“Well,” she muttered, no longer feeling like she had any control over her body. “Guess we’ve got to put on quite a show then.”
Could she even do that?
Her body tingled with nerves she hadn’t felt in a long time. Nerves she thought had been left behind in her early days as a musician, when she was playing her first arena shows. Maybe if she took a moment, if she could have some water, she might be able to calm it all down.
Unfortunate, then, when the crew warned her it was go-time.
The band moved towards the stage, ready to get into their places. Catra caught eyes with her bassist, Mel, who was sending her a concerned look at the obvious nerves she was feeling. Catra just shook her head in reply — don’t ask — and followed behind the band to their starting position.
Just off the side of the stage. The lights turned down.
A roar erupted from the crowd, and the starting synths of the music played through speakers. Catra watched, but did not process, as the drummer ran onto stage. He found his way to his kit, and soon the beat filled in the music.
And then Mel, going to the far end of the stage, joining the drummer in the rhythm.
Then the guitarist, beginning a rift that once going had the crowd screaming again with the excitement of what was to come.
Catra felt light headed. She felt her whole body beating, she could hear her heart inside her ears. Her breath stalled inside her chest, her lungs constricted inside. It was fear. Fear was taking over her as the reality of the situation collapsed in on her.
Adora was in those stands, and she was about to hear every wretched word Catra had ever recorded about her.
Live.
The rift grew, grew, until its energy broke across the stage. The lights flared up, another scream from the crowd supporting it, and Catra didn’t need the crew member behind her telling her it’s her cue.
Time’s up, and she can’t let herself disappoint.
She ran onto stage, ears filled with the passion from the crowd once she’s in view, and found her home in front of the mic.
And oh, is this her home.
It was easier once she was there. Easier to find rhythm with her heart that beat too quickly while she sang down the mic. Her body was already working harder, speeding itself up to match that steady pump inside her chest. It was easier once all of that energy that had been worked up inside of her was being put to good use, pushed through her body and out into the world.
Singing her lyrics, her own lyrics, out to the woman they were written about.
That’s not important right now.
Because this wasn’t for her. These shows were never for her. These shows were for the crowd in front of her, the crowd that sang every word back to her. The crowd that, when asked, jumped and screamed and yelled. The crowd that shot her energy back to her, making her feel alive.
This crowd, that had made every emotion she’d put into her songs feel validated.
None of this was for her.
Catra was thankful that the show always started with something big — that loud, demanding kind of song that brought a power to the atmosphere. It did just as much to her as it did to the crowd, and she could feel her nerves dying down inside of her once she found herself in her element. It was less about ignoring and forgetting, more about taking control. This was her stage and she wasn’t about to let one lonely presence, unseen in the dark, ruin it for her.
So Catra did as she always did — she put on her costume.
“Paris!” she yelled out once the music had died and a silence had taken the stage. Another roar from the crowd was her only reply. Catra grinned, large enough that even the crowd in the back would be able to see it without the aid of the cameras pointed at her.
This was what she loved, feeling the energy that radiated around the room. Her heart swelled with it.
“How are we feeling tonight?!” she yelled into the mic again, gaining another wave of energy in reply. They were hyped, and the night had only just begun. Catra started to pace on stage, keeping herself moving to keep up with it.
“Paris— what a beautiful city, right?” The noise from the crowd became continuous as she spoke, letting them feel their pride. “Beautiful, seriously. I love it here, I should really come more often.”
That, at least, wasn’t a lie. She did love Paris, but Catra’s time here had always been cut short by schedules she didn’t have any control over. At least this time she would have some extra hours to spare in the city.
Catra rolled her eyes, her body following the movement in something over dramatic to get it across to the audience. “Of course, I think I’d need to work on my French if I want to come here more often. Pretty sure I can only say one thing, which is, um— …J'arrive pas à trouver mes culottes, tu les as?”
A laugh rolled off of the crowd — the exact reaction she was expecting.
She turned on her heel, pacing the other way as she waited for the noise to die down again, until the crowd was back to being hers. Her confidence had built once again, and Catra could feel herself falling into it. There was no reason why she couldn’t make this a game for herself. There was no reason she couldn’t enjoy it.
There was no reason for her to feel nervous, for her to feel fear — not when Adora had come into her territory.
She was going to have fun with this.
Catra turned to the audience once again. “I think we should get onto the big announcement for tonight.” That caught the attention of some excited fans, and Catra grinned wide again as she chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I think a lot of you already know, that it’s my birthday today!”
Again, the crowd cheered, and Catra felt fantastic. The noise quickly dissolved into something else, and after a few words, Catra could recognise from the melody that it was a rendition of Happy Birthday. In French, of course, but there were only so many words to the song as it was. To her left, her guitarist started to pick along to the song, only encouraging the crowd further. Catra laughed before bringing the mic to her mouth, deciding that a simple la, la, la along to the tune in place of words would be enough to join in.
She laughed again when the song came to a close, the crowd still lively with it. It was surprisingly enjoyable. “Thank you, thank you! Okay but, for real, we do actually have an announcement today that isn’t just about me. Come on guys, I’m not completely selfish.”
Catra was sure someone would argue with her about that, but she didn’t care. She was having fun.
“We are so honoured to have the company of the one and only Princess She-Ra in the crowd tonight!” Another roar of noise, and Catra wished so badly that she could see Adora’s face at that moment. Somewhere in the darkness, somewhere up above, she was watching all of this. And oh, how Catra was going to make sure she regretted coming here.
“Princess, seriously,” Catra looked up into the higher stands where she knew the V.I.P. section would be, even if it was lost behind lights. “Didn’t think this would be your kind of music, but who am I to judge?”
Your kind of music, how ironic.
Catra smirked, and turned her attention back to the rest of the crowd. “Actually, I think we’re going to dedicate the next song to our guest of honour. So please, Princess,” and back to Adora. “Enjoy the show.”
She spun herself around, making eye contact with the rest of the band as she gave a nod.
The drums kicked in, her foot stomping along to the beat. Bass and guitar followed quickly after, the crowd building their energy again once they recognised the song next on the setlist.
It was still the setlist, still the preplanned show.
But Catra knew exactly what lyrics were about to leave her mouth.
And she hoped Adora would listen to every single one of them.
* * *
EIGHT YEARS PREVIOUSLY
The set ended, the lights coming down on Catra as she stood at the forefront of the stage. Before her was a crowd cheering her off, still reeling from the vigour she put out for her show. She could still feel her excitement running through her own body, the strain against her throat after singing for so long, and the sweat that had the plastered hairs against her forehead was finally becoming uncomfortable to the point of unbearable.
So — all the signs of a good performance, then.
And yet, leaving the stage always felt disappointing.
Catra followed her performing band off the side, heading down the stairs into the cramped back spaces of the venue. It had been exciting, watching herself grow from basements where silence hung over the dull and lifeless faces of people who had no idea what they were listening to, to larger venues with crowds who more and more often sang her own lyrics back to her. Crowds of her people, the ones she’d be down with in the pit if it wasn’t for the fact she was the one on the mic.
So while these halls were tiny, they had never felt more massive to Catra.
Somewhere along the way, Catra and the band managed to bump into their lingering friends, and they all piled into the green room — which was basically a sitting room with the added benefit of a bathroom. It was supposed to give them the chance to clean up out of the sink, but Catra had quickly learned that there was no point. It was better to just lay around in her stink until she could get home and have a decent shower.
And that’s just what she did as she collapsed onto one of the dirty couches, a Lonnie falling to her side. “That’s it! Last show done before the E.P. comes out.”
That, in itself, felt massive. So far the majority of her audience were regulars, who found their way into gigs for ten dollars each, bringing their friends along to gain more support. The only ones who knew her songs were those who had shown their faces multiple times. It felt good, knowing so many people actually did that, but Catra couldn’t wait to build a wider audience once she had real music recorded on a disc.
And it was done, already to go.
The excitement was killing her.
“Oh sure, whatever allows your head to get bigger.” It was her keyboard player replying, Double Trouble. They didn’t really belong in the rock world with her, but they needed money as much as the rest of them if they wanted to make it big on the theatre stage. Catra was basically giving them charity letting them play in her band.
They made their way across the room to her, bending down to cup her cheeks with both hands, getting unreasonably close. “Really, though, congratulations darling. Can’t wait to see what fame you gain.”
“Oh, just you watch,” Catra grinned. “I’m ready to take over the world.”
Double Trouble cocked one eyebrow upwards. “Careful what you wish for.”
“Piss off,” Catra said as she pushed them away with a laugh. She stood up, glancing around the crowded room for any sign of some beer. “Someone get me a damn drink, I fucking need one.”
“Uh, Catra?” It was Kyle, speaking up with his croaky voice that sounded like it had never truly broken. One foot was shoved between the door and it’s frame, keeping it propped open. “Might want to hold off for a second, there’s someone at the door for you.”
Interesting. Catra stepped over some stray legs and pushed Kyle aside, looking outside the door to see who was bothering them.
Someone older, it seemed. A man, dressed in white chinos and a respectable dark grey jacket. A getup that she didn’t believe belonged in a place like this, but even worse was his long white hair, slicked back to show his receding hairline.
He gave her a smile, but it looked as fake as Double Trouble’s extensions.
“Catra!” he greeted as if he knew her, which was already something to turn her off. “Great show tonight. My name’s Prime, I represent Horde Records. May we… have a discussion somewhere?”
Horde Records. Horde Records? Catra found herself lost for words at the mention of the company.
It was massive — a monolith in the music industry. Too many big names were attached to the label, more than she could list off the top of her head, and more than a handful of her personal favourite acts had been represented by them for years. They were good, they had number ones every other week, they had stadiums selling out, names plastered everywhere, a real giant across the board.
Catra instantly felt her heart clench with sudden nerves, but she was seeing an opportunity in front of her.
That’s what this was, right?
“S-sure!” Catra tripped on the first syllable, mentally wincing at it. That wasn’t going to keep happening. “We could go— this way.”
Catra slipped out of the green room and turned down the corridor. There wasn’t really anywhere private, but there was a corner near the fire exit she knew wouldn’t have too much traffic. That would do for now.
She leaned against the wall once she got there, trying to keep her cool. “So. Prime from Horde Records.”
“The very one,” he said, as if she was meant to know his name. “Tell me, Catra. Are you signed at the moment?”
“No,” she was quick to shoot out. “Nope, nothing at the moment.”
“Of course, of course. Are you thinking about it?”
Catra nodded, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than needed. “It’d be a dream.” More than a dream. It’d be the start of her future, a real step in the direction she wanted to go in. To get bigger. Whatever she needed to do, she was willing, ready to climb her way up.
“You have real talent,” Prime continued, tilting his head a little to the side. “Do you write your own music?”
“All of it.” Even if she didn’t play instruments on stage, Catra was the one behind the guitar at home, finding the chords and progressions that best represented how she was feeling inside. “My friends helped me record an E.P. we’re releasing next week.”
“Ambitious.” Prime’s smile curled up on one side of his mouth. Secretly, it made her skin crawl, but Catra knew this was just one of many from the company. She had to look at the bigger picture, whether he gave her the creeps or not. “Here’s the deal. How about you send over a digital copy of that E.P., and I’ll get back to you about a meeting next week.”
His hand flicked out, a card magically sitting between two fingers.
“Next week?” Catra repeated, taking the outstretched business card. “As in, we’re definitely doing it?”
“I’d like to hear what you’ve done but… tonight was intriguing. I think we could do some great things together, Catra.”
There was no chance she was keeping the smile off of her face now. Catra beamed, taking a glance down at the card — decorated with the familiar red winged logo.
“I’ll— I’ll send it over tomorrow.” Catra informed him.
“Fantastic. I look forward to listening.”
And with that, Prime turned himself away, leaving Catra in that corner.
She couldn’t get back to the green room fast enough. Letting herself inside, Catra found her group of misfit friends all silent — tense. Every pair of eyes snapped to her with her entry, and Catra found herself struggling to meet each and every gaze.
“So?” Lonnie spoke up from her place still on the couch. “Was that really Horde Records?”
Catra slowly nodded, her smile once again betraying her as it spread across her cheeks.
“Fucking Horde Records wants a meeting next week!”
Catra couldn’t tell whose arms were around her first, or which voice was saying what words, or who was simply cheering for her victory. All of it blurred together as the balloon of emotions popped inside of her. Positive, lively, breathtaking emotions. It broke out in a laugh, the kind that felt too good to be real, that made her head feel woozy.
It was Double Trouble who called for celebrations, and there was no way Catra was going to stop them. She finally felt it, the past two years of working hard to get herself to where she was. Screw that, the past twenty years — fighting to dig her way out of the pit that she’d been abandoned in.
It didn’t fucking matter that she came from nothing. Not anymore.
She was ready to show them all.
It was Rogelio who offered her a smoke, and though she wasn’t much of a regular, Catra couldn’t stop herself with the euphoria rushing through her system. A small group of them filtered outside through the back door, Lonnie hanging off of her shoulders as they went. She was continuously talking about this deal — “Potential,” Catra kept reminding her. “Future,” Lonnie challenged, refusing to let her minimise it. She said she wanted to see any of the contracts, she wanted to read them through with Catra, make sure she wasn’t being screwed over.
It was nice, having a friend like Lonnie at her side, willing to stick up for her when it mattered — no matter how much they drove each other berserk under the same roof.
Outside, the cold night air was brisk against her skin, but even that wasn’t enough to ruin Catra’s giddiness. The adrenaline was enough to keep her warm as the small group stood in a circle, passing around a lighter to light up each cigarette. Catra got it last, and after the first inhale she remembered why she didn’t do this so often. It hit her instantly, and she wasn’t sure she could say it in a good way. It didn’t really matter as Double Trouble started talking about what bars would still be open at this time of night, and which they should definitely hit up for this post show celebration.
Tomorrow was going to be rough.
They weren’t paying too much attention to the door behind them. Catra heard it open, her ears flicking back in reaction, but she didn’t care enough to turn back and look. It surely wouldn’t concern her. That was until she heard a smooth like honey voice speak up from behind.
“Sorry, do any of you have a light?”
Catra, still holding the small piece of plastic in her hand, twisted on her heel to see who it was. A stranger, with dark hair pulled back in a long braid and brown skin that looked flawless in the dark of the night. Her eyes, big and inviting, complimented the small smile she had on her lips. Friendly. College age, maybe. Wearing a jean jacket covered in patches.
It definitely wasn’t hers to give out, but Catra found herself nodding nonetheless. “Sure do.”
“Great,” the stranger replied, and before Catra could make any movement, she’d placed her own cigarette between her lips and closed the distance between them. Catra felt her cheeks burn a little, accompanied by a tightening in her chest, but she brought the lighter up like it was second nature. She flicked the flame to life, and watched the stranger inhale until the cigarette was lit before pulling herself back.
Her eyes dragged across Catra’s face, something sparking behind them. Catra tried to ignore it, but she kept herself facing this stranger while she heard her friends muttering behind her. Eventually, the stranger pulled her cigarette from her lips again and blew the smoke out from the corner of her mouth.
“You’re the girl who performed tonight.”
“Sure am,” Catra nodded again. She didn’t have to hide that, and it wasn’t like she had any weird fans to worry about yet.
“Good set,” the brunette said with another flash of a smile. “You do shows often?”
“Every weekend, if I can.” Hopefully that would change soon, depending how the meeting with Horde Records would go the following week. They’d have the reins then, and she’d just be along for the ride, happy to do as they told her.
“Cool,” she nodded in return and pulled her other hand out from her pocket where it had been protected by the cold. She held it out between them. “Mara.”
Catra’s eyes glanced down to the hand, but after a moment she took it and shook. “Catra.”
“So…” Mara’s eyes glanced back over Catra’s shoulder, over towards her friends who were still muttering away behind them. Catra hadn’t been paying close attention to what they were saying, but with Mara’s look she could suddenly feel all four pairs of eyes staring right back at them. Mara didn’t seem the nervous type but maybe if she wasn’t doing this in front of an audience, she’d have an easier time with it. “You doing anything with the rest of your night?”
Catra felt her heart beating faster inside her chest and she’d practically forgotten the cigarette in her own fingers. She was fixated on those grey eyes and could feel a warmth growing at the back of her neck.
“We were going to hit up a few bars,” she replied, nodding her head backwards towards the group behind her. Mara’s eyes followed the movement. Her eyebrows flicked up a little and she gave them a wave — Catra could only assume someone, probably Double Trouble, had waved at her first.
“Right. Well, I wouldn’t want to intrude on anything, so…” Mara took a step backwards, already retreating from the situation. “Maybe another time you’d like to—”
“You can come.” Catra threw the words out before she could stop herself. She was still running on that euphoria, that giddiness, that adrenaline. Letting it guide her through her actions without embarrassment or shame. Letting her feed into the moment without too many second thoughts. It was all about now — she had to remember that.
Mara, having paused in her tracks, seemed a little surprised. “Are you sure?”
“We’re celebrating,” Catra said, as if that explained anything.
There was a beat before Mara replied. “Celebrating what?” She asked, genuinely curious.
And all Catra could give her was the motto she was living by. “The start of a new life.”
* * *
Catra was never sure she could down enough water after a show. It didn’t matter how many glasses she had, her body always craved more. When swallowing down more seemed impossible, she would take the next logical step in dumping a whole glass over her head.
God, that felt better.
Another successful show was under her belt. The most successful, in her lonely opinion, but that was something Catra was still trying to keep underwraps. Despite the way her bandmates crowded around her, or the crew members congratulating her further, none of them could know the inner turmoil going on inside of her at that moment.
The show had helped. The show had given her a distraction. In fact, it was probably the best performance she’d ever given as every emotion she’d ever written into her songs had coursed through her body. It was cathartic to belt them out into the arena, to do so when they felt the most tangible. It felt like, after all these years, they had finally fulfilled their purpose.
That was an idea Catra wasn’t sure she wanted to unpack.
But Catra didn’t want to be stuck in her own mind. Despite the turmoil, she wanted to ignore it for as long as possible. She was still present, she was still existing, and she still had her own life. She didn’t want to waste it.
Even if she was just leaning on the pop up table with the water cooler on it, feeling the strain in her legs after the energetic workout.
“So,” Mel spoke up. She rubbed her hands together, looking way too excited about something. About… what? “Post-show-birthday-end-of-mainland-Europe celebratory shots?”
That, apparently.
Catra rolled her eyes, but her smirk contradicted the act. “Is that seriously the best you can come up with?”
“What?” Mel complained, looking a little offended by the comment. She glanced around at the other crew members, looking for some support. “It’s your birthday! We have to do something for your birthday, and after that—”
“After what?” Catra challenged. Don’t say it, she wanted to snap. She didn’t want to discuss the elephant in the room, the guest of honour, with them. As long as Catra could keep the conversation elsewhere, she knew she was going to be okay. “Why don’t we make use of having tomorrow free to do something for my birthday? I’d rather do that than waste tomorrow by having to deal with a hangover.”
That got Mel thinking for a moment, and that’s all Catra needed to know that her argument had won. It was her birthday after all, wasn’t she meant to decide what to do?
“Fine, but only if we can get cocktails at some point,” Mel threw out, clearly trying to compromise. “Seriously, after that show? I think it’s the best show we’ve ever done.”
Catra had to hold herself back from glaring daggers into her.
“I don’t know what did it, Catra, but seriously— You blew the whole place down.” Mel was grinning, clearly not getting the hint of the dangerous waters she was close to entering. “And the crowd loved it. Seriously, what— what was it you said early on in the show? About the panties? Was that serious?”
Oh. So that’s where this was going. Catra eased her shoulders up, losing some of the tension that had been building in her body as Mel spoke. She had to remind herself there was no need to get hostile at the people who didn’t know any better. Feeding into the post show banter was surely better than ignoring it.
So this one was easy to follow through with. “I mean…” she started, standing herself up. “There’s some truth to it.”
Catra turned around, grabbing the plastic cup she’d been using to refill it from the water cooler once again. Partially because it was funnier to tell the story without looking at them. They stayed quiet, probably waiting for her to elaborate. “Let’s just say that if I had a nickel for every time I had to ask someone if they had stolen my panties, I’d have two nickles. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s strange it happened—”
Her cup now full, Catra turned herself back around to face the group, but found herself faced with another sight altogether.
Suddenly Catra wasn’t sure the group had been quiet for the sake of hearing her story.
But she could at least end her thought. “Twice.”
While her back had been turned, Catra had been unfortunate to miss the fact their group had been joined by two more. One, a stern looking woman in a dark suit, with the accessory pieces Catra recognised her own security wearing quite often.
The other — the Princess She-Ra herself.
She looked different from the last time Catra had seen her. Gone was the crown, the flowing dress, the gold and white. Adora looked much more comfortable in her black turtleneck and dark jeans combo. Even her hair felt more her, tied back in a bun yet still managing to have that signature poof at the front.
Much more comfortable, and yet Adora still gripped one hand around the other arm, as if trying to distract herself.
She managed to smile — Catra did not smile back.
“Princess,” she greeted, breaking the thick silence that no one had felt the need to address. Catra was sure that if she glanced around the group, she’d see awestruck faces on each of her friends.
But for now, her attention was fully on the invader.
“Catra,” Adora greeted back with a small nod of the head. It almost looked like a bow.
Oh, wait, did that mean—
“Sorry, are we meant to curtsey?” Catra asked. Suddenly panicked faces looked to Catra, but she kept her eyes locked with Adora’s. The confusion that found itself there had Catra fill with glee. “I’m not used to having royalty at my show, I’m not sure what the custom is here.”
“No, no,” Adora shook her head, looking flustered suddenly. “There’s no need to curtsey. From anyone, I promise.” That she directed to the rest of the group, glancing around them sheepishly before she let her eyes land back on the one she was here for.
But that was funny. Seeing the little bit of panic, seeing her cheeks redden. Catra could enjoy that. Almost made up for not seeing her reaction throughout the show.
“My mistake,” Catra jabbed. “I hope you enjoyed the dedication. It was kind of thrown in at the last minute.”
Adora’s mouth opened, faltering. Catra could see the meaning come to her, remembering. So bravely painting her face with what she was really thinking. Catra wondered if everyone else could read her just as well.
“Catra,” Adora finally breathed out, as if she were struggling to keep air in her lungs. “The whole show was magnificent.”
There was a vulnerability in her eyes that threatened the air in Catra’s lungs as well.
It wasn’t what she was expecting. A real compliment to contrast the snark Catra was throwing out at her. At least she was seeing the evidence that her words had left a mark on Adora. It was the outcome she wanted, right?
Yet, with the way her heart was clenching, Catra wasn’t so sure.
Adora weakly smiled, trying to gain some confidence in herself.
Maybe, if there wasn’t an audience, she would be having an easier time with it.
“Could we…?” The question went unfinished, but Catra didn’t need to hear the rest of it to understand what was being asked.
She nodded, once. “Sure.” Deep down, Catra knew there was no way she’d be able to figure out how to explain it to the onlooking crew. She knew there would be questions from them, demanding the gossip. It’s what she’d been trying to avoid all night.
But she had Adora in front of her, eyes a little sad, spirit a little broken, and despite how much she wanted to, Catra could not ignore her.
Without another word, Catra downed her cup of water, tossed the plastic onto the table behind her, and swiftly moved away from the group.
Catra didn’t say a word as she moved through the building, following the path back through the backstage corridors until she was back to familiar ground. Her dressing room, thankfully, was private. While often she found herself with company inside, it was nice knowing she had the room to herself if she so wished.
Today of all days she was glad she had the room to herself.
Catra didn’t even have to check to see if Adora was following her. She heard the trailing footsteps, her ears flicking back to focus. She could hear Adora’s short breaths, uneasy in their rhythm. Nervous, perhaps? Catra thought back to their last meeting, how off guard Adora had been in that ballroom. How later, in her room, she’d been confrontational about it. Confused, demanding.
Adora had been confusing for Catra that night as well. She was not looking forward to a repeat of it.
Eventually, they reached the room with Catra’s name labelled on a printed out piece of paper. She did not stop to look back as she entered, assuming the demanding Princess would follow her inside anyway. She’d been so quick to let herself into her room last time, Catra was sure this would be the same. Instead, she focused all of her attention on herself.
Catra was sweaty. Uncomfortably so. The norm after a show. It was time to deal with that.
She moved to stand in front of her dressing table, a large mirror set into the wall above it. A perfect tool to spy on Adora with while she kept her back to her. Even now, as she found a packet of wipes, Catra watched her company through the reflection.
Adora, alone, closed the door behind her. She hung back and the space between them felt wider in the mirror. Adora, awkward as ever, stood chewing on her lip with her hands behind her back.
Catra was not going to say anything. This was Adora’s doing. Again. Why should she bother putting in the effort?
The idiot, after some long awkward seconds, finally did. “The show was amazing tonight.”
“Mhmm,” Catra hummed, pulling her eyes away from Adora to look at herself in the mirror. She was pulling out multiple wipes from the packet at once, scrubbing them against the skin of her neck. Around the front, over the back, down her shoulders, along her collar— anywhere immediate she could reach. “You already said that.”
Adora’s mouth did that thing, where it hovered open with no words coming from it. Clearly that was not the reply she was expecting.
“You’re quite the performer,” she continued once she’d gained control of herself again. “Your stage presence is…”
If she was going to find the words to end that sentence, Catra didn’t let her. “Stop. Just— stop.” She was fed up, glaring back at Adora in the mirror. “Don’t pretend like that’s why you’re here.”
Surprisingly, Adora was hurt by the words.
Surely that wasn’t why she was actually here.
“Right,” she continued, nodding her head downwards, averting her gaze. Somehow, this was starting to feel more painful than the last time. Adora had come in with a purpose, demanding an answer to the same question over and over until Catra had given in and unleashed her truth. Now, all that was between them was a tension. Different from last time. More complicated.
Catra hated it. Her back teeth grinded together, her sharp fangs digging into the inside of her lip. More complicated was an understatement. It was easy to still fuel herself on twelve years worth of hatred, to keep that burning red fire ignited. Catra barely remembered what it was like to live without it. For so long she’d been operating with that anger, like a raging beast was living inside of her. It had become familiar. An everlasting presence.
Only now, it was accompanied by another wild beast. Whatever the fuck Adora had created when she’d pulled her in and kissed her so forcefully. This burned with a searing hot blue.
Warning her away, warning her not to touch.
She dropped her used wipes onto the table, instead replacing them in her hands with a layed out towel. Catra quickly wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling it up to rub at her damp hair. She already looked a mess, she didn’t care how she looked now.
It wasn’t supposed to matter that she’d broken their eye contract through the mirror while her eyes were hidden behind white. Adora seemed to think differently as she gained her confidence once again.
A slight confidence, with a tentative voice.
“I’ve missed you.”
Catra’s hands froze behind her ears at the words. She appreciated the moment she had to hide, closing her eyes for a moment as she counted in her head — one, two, three. A deep breath followed before she pulled the towel down.
Their eyes met in the mirror. Adora’s, looking so sad again, as if she were a kicked puppy.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” It didn’t seem to matter if Catra said anything now, Adora allowed her feelings to flood out of her. Her bottom lip trembled as she continued. “About Prom. I— I try really hard not to but then it comes out of nowhere and I keep feeling empty.”
That last word caught on her throat, and caught on something in Catra’s chest. For once she could recognise it. In the times Catra had allowed herself to dwell on that night, she’d felt a sickness in her stomach that left her aching. Little had helped to shake the feeling. Even trying to write it out into lyrics had ultimately failed.
Even now, if she allowed her mind to linger on it for too long, she could remember the feeling of Adora’s lips on hers.
Adora was tentatively brave as she stepped forward, little steps that came slowly, so not to scare Catra away. Catra turned her eyes downwards, placing her hands on the desk to lean on, no longer able to keep that gaze with the pleading that dripped from Adora’s.
She heard, felt, her presence close behind where it stopped in its tracks.
A finger grazed at her elbow.
“Catra?” Adora’s voice broke — tiny, barely there.
Catra’s face twisted, pained. As if any of this had been bearable as it was, here Adora was with that voice. With those confessions, with her feelings completely on display. Was she even holding anything back?
“What do you want me to say?” Catra finally asked, voice quiet.
“Anything.”
Unhelpful, but Catra took the bait.
“Do you seriously think anything has changed?” She asked, looking into the mirror again. It came out aggressive, as she intended. It didn’t matter what had happened in London, it didn’t stop the everything she’d been suffering with all this time.
The bite to her tone cut Adora deep. Idiot. Displaying her emotions to be read on her face. This time she averted her eyes, embarrassed.
“I know.” It wasn’t an answer, but it was a better one than anything viable. She understood. “It’s just… You’re here. I’m here.” A pause, as if that was supposed to be good enough to convince Catra of anything. And then, tacked on at the end, “And it’s your birthday.”
Catra scoffed, the laugh shaking her shoulders a little before dying out completely. “You’re going off a coincidence?”
“Is that so bad?” Adora countered.
“Yes,” Catra quickly bit back. She was getting angrier already, snapping back before any tears could come. Her hands tightened against the wooden surface beneath them, claws trying to dig in until it caused her pain. “Can’t you ever fucking choose?”
Adora went silent, as if finally realising what she had said and the implications that came with it. And she was still looking anywhere but into the mirror. Her eyes were fixated on something downwards, behind Catra.
She felt a small tug on the back of her shirt.
“I chose to come see you,” came quietly from her mouth.
It was so careful. So gentle. Adora once again turning into something scared. Worried about lighting the fuse on Catra that would blow her up again. She so badly wanted to, wanted to drag Adora down into this pit she’d been living in.
But blue flames still burned, and they were slowly consuming more of her.
What had tugged on her shirt turned into a palm, pressing into the small of her back. She watched Adora take another step forward, until she could feel her body behind her. Cautiously her arms moved to wrap around Catra’s waist in a loose hug. Adora pressed her forehead into Catra’s shoulder. The pressure was almost comforting.
“Please,” she whispered, lucky that Catra’s hearing could pick it up. “Please, I… I know it’s not enough but I want to do something for today.”
Was she just using it as an excuse, or did her birthday really mean that much to Adora? Did it matter? She was here either way, now clinging to Catra, both reserved and giving at the same time.
Catra rested one hand on top of Adora’s, and she quickly took that as a sign. Without looking, Adora’s hands pulled back to rest on Catra’s hips. They shook — lightly, but Adora’s nerves were vibrating through her body. It felt as if she were shivering. Light pressure from those strong hands had Catra’s hips twisting around, turning her body until she was looking over Adora’s shoulder. Her arms returned to their place around her, keeping her in that embrace.
“I’ll get you anything you want.”
Catra puffed out a laugh, hiding behind a humour despite the pain she could feel painted across her own face. “Pretty sure I’m more rich than you. I can buy anything I want.” Her words sounded strangled.
“Anything.” Adora didn’t hesitate to double down on her offer.
Catra waited. She knew it wasn’t an offer for gifts. Of course she knew. Adora was wanting her to ask, she was wanting Catra to make the decision.
At least she was even offering it this time.
Catra stared at a spot on the wall, trying to talk herself out of it. It was just going to hurt, it was always going to hurt. Yet with Adora wrapped around her like she was at the moment, she felt herself drowning in her warmth. It was difficult to see eye to eye with that perspective.
Maybe for tonight it didn’t have to.
“Will you stay?”
The words were breathy in Adora’s ear, too vulnerable to be spoken any louder than that. Catra held her breath as she waited for the answer, holding a lump in her throat. There was too much weight behind her question, too many unspoken words that she hadn’t dared speak.
Adora’s arms gripped tighter around her, and once again the pressure came as a comfort.
“Yes.” Of all the words she’d spoken today, Adora sounded the most sure of that one.
Catra closed her eyes for a moment, gaining her composure again before her hands pressed at Adora — carefully pushing her away. Catra was quick to locate her towel again, hiding her face in it so she wouldn’t have to look into Adora’s own. Once she was free from her arms, Catra turned back around, wiping at her eyes with the towel before dropping it again.
“You, um—” How the fuck was she going to do this? “You can wait with the crew. I… I need to just gather my things and…”
She just needed a moment. That was it. Just… a moment to herself to find her centre again. A moment of privacy before the room would be filled with more crew members, ready to pack everything up to be shoved onto the touring trucks.
Adora didn’t try to argue. “Okay.” Even if she did sound like she was about to cry as well.
Catra didn’t move until she heard the door open and close.
She collapsed into the chair at the desk, staring at herself in the mirror. She looked tired, eyes a little red from where she’d rubbed them, and one fang was biting down into her lip again. Catra tried to read her own face, looking for any signs of detachment or regret. She found nothing. Perhaps she’d see it there tomorrow, but for now all she saw was a blank stare.
She closed her eyes again, and immediately she could see that night play out behind her eyelids. Adora, losing her cool the longer she was in that room, until she couldn’t hold herself back from pulling Catra in. It had made her so angry, but Catra had thrown herself in headfirst. It had been such a pleasure to take it out on her — to bite into her skin and share her feelings with her claws, to kiss her with hunger on lips and between hips.
When she opened her eyes again, Catra recognised that hunger burning inside of them.
It was quick after that. Catra left her room, shouting out to the crew to “Get a fucking move on!” She moved herself into the bathroom as they started packing up the dressing room, using the time to freshen herself up. The water felt much better than the wipes to clean herself of sweat, and she cleaned off what messed up makeup remained on her face. It was a relief to peel herself out of her performance clothes and into something that didn’t stick to her skin. Leggings and a baggy flannel shirt would be enough for the ride back to the hotel.
As she stepped back into the dressing room, the majority of the supplies had been packed into the black trunks. One of the crew smiled at Catra as she swapped the clothes in her hands with her backpack, carrying her more personal belongings.
“Thanks,” Catra said simply. She knew she didn’t need to be so snappy with them, they were just doing their job after all, but she wanted to remove herself from their company as quickly as possible.
At least now she was able to do just that. Catra swung her backpack onto her shoulder and quickly left the dressing room behind. Backstage was in full force work mode as the equipment was taken down and packed into the trucks. She felt she was in a ballet with the way she avoided them, keeping out of their way yet still moving herself forward. Catra didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary.
She found who she was looking for near the back exits. Her own security hanging around the familiar sight of her manager that she knew too well, who was non stop blabbering to Adora with her own suited up bodyguard. Catra rolled her eyes as she approached.
“Alright, alright, don’t crowd the princess,” Catra groaned once she was close enough. She wasn’t bothering to be pleasant as she lightly shoved a shoulder into Lonnie’s, forcing her to cut the conversation and step back from Adora. “She’s got anxiety issues, you need to be gentle with her.”
“Catra!” Adora blushed, and Catra couldn’t tell if it was because she’d lied, or maybe gotten too close to the truth without realising it. Catra smirked, finding it far more amusing than she needed to.
“What? I’m not doing anything,” she teased. “Now if you’ll all excuse me, I’m beat. We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” The last question was directed to Lonnie, who was now reeling herself back in to give Catra the space to leave.
“Don’t party too hard,” she warned Catra, eyebrow raised up in something questioning. Like she was trying to work out a puzzle.
“As if.” She’d already regulated that activity for tomorrow anyway. Catra began to walk, sending a knowing glance towards Adora, telling her to follow as she headed for the exit. “Sleep well in your luxury bed tonight!”
Her leaving party followed her towards the exit, and Catra was glad she didn’t have to explain why the Princess was part of it. She wasn’t going to give any of them a clue, keeping her eyes forward as she kept her ears open for anything happening behind her. That wasn’t really the issue. She caught onto the sounds outside before anyone else could, and Catra quickly worked out what was about to happen.
She stopped at the door of the venue, looking back to Adora. “Does anyone know you came here tonight?”
“No,” she answered, eyes a little wide like she was a deer caught in headlights. Adorable.
“Hm.” Catra paused for a moment, thinking. Her hand reached for the door handle. “That’s about to change.”
And with that, she opened the door, immediately welcomed by flashes and her own name.
It was nothing she’d never dealt with before. Catra felt a body presence beside her — her security quickly moving in to help her forward towards the car. A few steps out and she heard the shouts from the crowd of paparazzi shift as they noticed the Princess leaving behind her. It was amusing, but Catra kept it off her face for the last few steps until she made it to the car.
Catra collapsed into the far seat by the window, dumping her bag onto the seat in front of her. Her security stayed outside, moving to the front of the car — giving her space. Space for Adora to sit beside her, and for her bodyguard to sit on the spare backwards facing seat.
The door closed, shutting out the sounds of the crowd, and the car came to life to pull them away.
Catra’s eyes were only for Adora. She looked frazzled, cheeks burning hot red and a panic setting in. Maybe Catra was correct about the anxiety after all. Her hands were already in her lap, gripping at each other in urgency.
Without thinking, Catra placed one of her own hands over them, causing them to still and for Adora to meet her gaze. “Hey. Calm.”
Adora breathed in, breathed out, finding some peace. “What are they going to think?”
“Adora, trust me.” Catra leaned over the space between them, and squeezed her fingers against Adora’s. “The media will use any excuse before lesbians. I’m just taking the opportunity to meet with a Princess while I can.”
It was cute how Adora smiled, reassured.
It felt like the first time in forever that Catra didn’t feel anger looking upon her face.
They were mostly silent for the ride to the hotel. Catra kept her hand placed on Adora’s the entire time, and eventually Adora had turned her grip to Catra’s instead of her own. It felt like a vice, but Catra didn’t bother mentioning it, instead letting the silence sit comfortably between them. While she may be used to security detail, Catra wasn’t about to start talking personal around them.
She was thankful Adora was the same.
And once they’d made it to the hotel — one of the richest in Paris — Catra felt relief once they were finally in her room.
It was a large, open space. The architecture was old, but the space looked modern despite it. Everything was bright, apart from the large bed with deep red soaked covers. It had almost everything anyone might need. A fireplace, with sitting chairs beside it. A large television mounted onto the wall. And on the other side of the room, floor length windows that stepped out onto a balcony.
Her bags were already there, sitting in front of a small sitting table near the door. On top sat a bottle of champagne with a handful of glasses. Catra frowned a little, wandering over to the table to investigate. She hadn’t ordered any drinks to the room…
Upon inspection, she noted a little card.
Happy Birthday, Wildcat! Can’t wait to celebrate next week! - S
“Huh,” Catra thought out loud as she flicked the card over, checking the back for any more writing. There was none. “Fancy a drink?”
She turned, expecting to see Adora still lingering near the door but was surprised to see Adora had ventured further inside. To the balcony, it seemed. She opened the windows and stepped out into the fresh night air, completely oblivious to Catra’s question.
Catra rolled her eyes, going ahead with pouring two glasses before she moved to join Adora out on the balcony, leaning against the cold metal.
“Here,” she caught Adora’s attention, holding the glass in front of her. “It’s on Princess Scorpia.”
“Oh.” Adora looked surprised, but took the glass nonetheless. “…You two must be really close.”
Catra nodded her head slow. “I did tell you.”
“I know,” Adora looked uncomfortable, and Catra couldn’t exactly work out why. “But, I mean… Being invited to the Prom by her is different from getting a bottle of champagne sent to your room for your birthday.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for not indulging you with all the knowledge of my best friends,” Catra snarked back with a roll of her eyes. She didn’t think it was a big deal, but once her eyes settled on Adora again, she could see it was still bothering her.
“Adora?” she urged.
“Sorry,” Adora mumbled, looking down into her glass. “I guess it’s just… weird. Realising we don’t really know each other any more.”
So that’s what this was about. Catra exhaled, turning herself to look out across the Paris skyline. It was beautiful in the dark like this. She hadn’t lied to the crowd earlier. It truly was a beautiful city, one she definitely wanted to visit more often.
It wasn’t enough to distract her though. “I don’t believe that for a fucking second.”
“What?”
“Come on, Adora,” Catra rolled her eyes back to Adora, the annoyance clear. “You seriously think just because we’ve missed some years we suddenly don’t know each other anymore?”
“I mean— Yeah!” Adora was defensive, and Catra wasn’t sure why. Wasn’t her point meant to be the better of the two? “We’ve missed so much of each other’s lives, that’s something. People grow, people change. Haven’t we?”
“Bullshit.” Catra snapped. “I know the real you, Adora. Maybe not whatever shit you had to become to be their perfect Princess She-Ra, but I know that’s still something.”
Adora’s jaw tensed. Catra could see her swallow, even in the darkness. “And what do I know of you?”
“Don’t pretend like what I put out into the world is the real me either, you’re smarter than that.” Catra jabbed a finger into Adora’s chest. “And I know for a fact that you know plenty about me none of my other friends know.”
“...Like what?” Adora’s expression softened.
Catra flung her free arm up in defeat. “Everything! I’m not fucking broadcasting who I was before I was this. I don’t want anyone to know that shit.”
She turned away again, downing half her glass of champagne in frustration. The bubbles burned against her throat as it went down, but the kick helped with the edges she was feeling.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, but didn’t move a muscle herself. “I want to know more, Catra.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Catra pulled herself away, turning to waltz back into the bedroom. “Do you have to do this whole feeling sorry for yourself thing?”
“I’m not.” The voice followed her inside. At least that mumble was gone, replaced by a stubbornness Catra knew all too well. This was her Adora, the one she knew. It seemed to have come out of nowhere, as Adora grabbed onto Catra’s wrist, pulling her back around and straight into Adora’s chest.
They were far too close now, but neither moved away. Adora was stern, determined, but she let go of Catra’s wrist to caress one cheek instead. Such a contrast between her touch and her expression.
“I want to know everything about you, Catra,” Adora continued, her voice wobbling just a fraction. Catra couldn’t work out if it was from nerves or anticipation. Maybe both. She did always have a problem of getting too ahead of herself. “Everything I’ve missed. I don’t care how long it takes to learn because if there’s one thing I’ve hated all these years, it’s not being able to be a part of your life.”
Catra stared up at her, her own jaw tense now as she gritted her teeth together. She watched whatever confidence Adora had just gained start to die out in her eyes. So short lived, but it had been so genuine.
Her words, however, stayed. Lingering in Catra’s mind. Adora had asked her for tonight, to spend her birthday with her for the first time in over a decade, and that’s all Catra thought this was. One night. Adora’s words now came with something more weighted.
I don’t care how long it takes.
Adora wasn’t just wanting tonight. She wanted so much more.
Her heart tugged, and Catra felt that blue burning flame spread throughout her insides. A heat, a need.
A hunger.
It was one of those moments where Catra didn’t feel in control anymore. She felt her body move, just enough to bridge that small space between them, until her eyes were closed as she pressed a kiss to Adora’s mouth. This time it didn’t start off fierce. It was careful, testing the waters. Making sure that what she felt with it did not kick off her instincts to leave. Adora in return let it happen as she wanted it to, barely kissing back as their lips fit together. Her fingers caressed the skin just below her ear, the touch ticklish.
It did not last long as Catra eased herself away. Their faces were still close, breath hot on each other’s skin, eyes unfocused as they tried to meet. The ghost of the kiss still fluttered on her lips, and Catra felt insatiable.
All she wanted was more.
Catra found the glass in Adora’s other hand. “Gimme that,” she uttered, prying it from her fingers. It was painful pulling herself away, turning her back to place the glasses on the table. It could only be a good sign, that what she had just initiated wasn’t the wrong thing. For now Catra wanted to believe it, letting her body make the decisions rather than her head.
Once she turned back around, Adora was standing with her back to her. No— she was closing the balcony doors. Blocking out the cold autumn air. Catra watched her, every movement slow. She was unsure of herself. The energy between them was so different from the first time. Cautious as they toed the line, unsure of how they should move forward. It filled Catra with an uncomfortable itch — battling the need to chase after the blue flame while trying to protect herself at the same time.
It wasn’t going to be scratched standing by the table, anyway.
Catra was halfway across the room by the time Adora had turned herself back around, gasping a little as Catra took her hand. She didn’t say a word as she pulled Adora towards the bed, directing her to sit on the edge. Adora did just that, staring up at Catra with those wide eyes of hers.
For a moment, Catra just stared at her. Expression neutral as she took note of every small detail on Adora’s face. The corner of her mouth twitched, and she didn’t blink once as her eyes flicked between Catra’s, unsure which one to focus on. Despite the confidence she’d just shown, she was back to feeling nervous, and it shone in her irises.
Catra could understand that feeling. Too many emotions were swirling around her, she barely understood what her body was wanting. At least they were going through the same thing.
Her hands slipped to the sides of Adora’s neck, sitting above the collar of her turtleneck so her fingers trailed against her jaw. Finally, she leaned in, brushing her lips against Adora’s ear as she spoke.
“What do you want, Adora?”
Adora’s breath shook in her own ear, and Catra wondered if Adora was going to be like that all evening. She was going to have to relax at some point — Catra was starting to think she was going to have to make sure of that herself.
“I—” Adora’s hand rested on Catra’s hip. She took it as an invitation, deciding to graze her teeth on Adora’s earlobe. Adora exhaled, her fingers digging into her hip a little harder.
“Do you mean now, or…?” Adora asked.
Avoiding the obvious, Catra thought.
She pulled herself back, just enough so their foreheads were together, so Catra could get that eye contact again. “Move,” she commanded. “Up.”
Adora did. She shuffled herself backwards, moving towards the headboard. Catra followed close, faces still barely apart as she moved onto the bed on her knees. Catra kept herself higher, above Adora as they moved themselves up the bed.
Until Adora stopped against the pillows, and Catra had found her way to sit above Adora’s lap, straddling her.
“Tell me what you want,” Catra said again. She wasn’t letting this one go.
Adora’s chest was dynamic with her breathing. Working herself up over something where she just had to be honest. Please be honest, Catra wished. Just say it.
“I want—” Adora swallowed, trying to be confident as she spoke her next words. “I want you.”
That was all Catra needed to hear. She pressed her lips against Adora’s again, no longer gentle as she closed the distance between them. Adora laid backwards as Catra began her devouring, deepening the kiss as much as she could. Her hands already found their way back to Adora’s jaw, keeping her positioned as she wanted.
Her tongue pried in between their lips, tasting Adora further. A moan came between them, but Catra couldn’t tell who it came from.
She pressed their bodies somehow closer, grinding her hips down as the need for friction started to build — but Catra knew she wouldn’t get it so soon.
Instead, her hands moved down Adora’s body until they found the hem of her jumper. Catra bit into Adora’s lip, grazing it against her teeth as she started to pull the fabric up her torso. Up over bare abs, over her bra, until Catra had to pull herself away to allow Adora to break free from it. It was tossed to the side, and Catra braced herself up with one arm as the other wrapped underneath Adora, finding the clasp on her bra.
And her lips were back on Adora’s as her fingers worked, masterfully flicking the clasp apart. She pulled it from Adora, letting it slip off her arms. Adora shivered under her touch as Catra trailed her hand up her bare chest, over her collar and neck, to find some of that tied up hair. Her fingers locked in, pulling Adora’s head back to reveal her neck. Catra licked at her skin just below her jaw, pressing her lips in to suck.
“Catra…” A moan escaped her.
“Mm?” Catra hummed into her throat, increasing the pressure on her skin.
Adora’s hands found their way back to Catra’s hips, slipping under her shirt just to claw into her skin, holding her there. Her breaths still came heavy, uncontrolled.
“I want you.” The words escaped her again, but this time Adora sounded more sure of herself with them.
Catra continued her work against Adora’s throat, finding her pulse point to kiss. She wanted to take her time, to appreciate every crevice of Adora while she had the opportunity. It felt as though she had all the time in the world to familiarise herself with her body.
“I—” Catra nipped, forcing Adora to restart her words. “I need you.”
Need. Now that was different, and not what Catra had asked from her. She paused in her endeavours, pulling herself back to hover over Adora’s face. Her eyes fluttered open, so beautiful as they craved.
She leaned herself in, lips brushing against Adora’s as she spoke. “Keep talking.”
“I’ve missed you,” Adora whispered back, feeding them into her.
Fuck, she wanted more. She wanted to speed herself up, to take everything she wanted, but Catra had to remind herself to go at her steady pace. To enjoy this for as long as she could. She knew in the morning she’d be thankful that she did, but she couldn’t deny the temptation was there.
“Keep going,” Catra uttered back as she moved herself down Adora’s body, pressing her lips into skin as she went. Trailing further and further. A hand found its way to her hair, fingers entwined into her locks, massaging against her skull as she went.
“I want you in my life,” Adora confessed, allowing herself to reach in deeper, to find what she really wanted to say. Catra hoped she’d wanted to say this for a long time, and she was finally pushing through the barriers that had been holding her back. “I want to fix this.”
Catra hovered over Adora’s abs, appreciating them longer as her fingers fiddled with the button on her jeans. She wanted — needed — them gone. She wanted to taste, to find that sweetness again, to please Adora for all the beautiful things she was saying to her.
“Catra,” she breathed out. It sounded like an attempt of a moan, but she followed it up with her own question. “Do you still hate me?”
That had Catra pausing. Just for a second, just to let her mind process it. It was a difficult question. Right now, hungry for Adora, it was difficult to imagine hate, but Catra knew she’d felt it earlier that evening, and had been feeling it ever since the Prom, and had been feeling it for long years before that.
That kind of hatred did not just go away. That hatred had seeped deep inside of her. It was the burning red, taking a step back to let the burning blue have it’s fun. The answer was obvious, but Catra did not want Adora thinking this was born of that hatred.
“Maybe,” she mumbled, her mind too cloudy to think of anything else to say.
Adora’s hand brushed over her hair, almost stroking her ears, but Catra flicked them away from her fingers on instinct. “It’s okay if you do.”
Now that… was interesting. Catra felt herself pause, and the fingers in her hair paused with it. Her arms braced on the bed, pushing herself up once again to hover over Adora. Their eyes searched each others’.
Catra smirked. “Adora.” She grazed claws against the skin of her abs, forcing Adora’s muscles to spasm at the sensation. “If you want me to be rough, all you have to do is ask.”
Those nerves were still painted across Adora’s face, but she hoisted herself up to meet Catra in the space above the bed. Faces too close, but not touching. She couldn’t help the smile lingering on her lips.
“I want to feel you all over me,” Adora confessed, cheeks burning red.
Oh. Something stirred in Catra, a heat she wasn’t expecting at those words. The thought hadn’t occurred to her that Adora would like that — would find enjoyment in having Catra leave her mark, a signature that she’d been all over her. But here she was asking for it, and Catra was glad she was finally asking for what she wanted.
It was only fair, then, that Catra oblige.
“Mmm,” she hummed, long and drawn out, like she was expecting to eat something delicious. She pressed a hand against Adora’s collarbone, easing her back down onto the pillows. Catra went with her.
“Relax, Adora,” Catra instructed her, tone gentle. “It’s just us.”
And just like that, Adora melted beneath her touch.
* * *
SEVEN YEARS PREVIOUSLY
Another late night had Catra closing the door to her apartment with a thud. They were getting longer recently. Later and later she was kept back in the studio, churning out lyrics and rhythms and demos until they hit. It felt obsessive as she poured everything she had into the music, only for it to be chucked to the side as another dead end.
It had to be perfect.
Her apartment was so much nicer without three roommates crowding the place. Quiet at this time, with the sounds of the streetlife distant. Catra walked through to the living room, flicking on a light. It would do her well to drink some water and head to bed, to crawl under the sheets and allow herself to relax, to drift off into peaceful sleep and rest well for what would surely be another long day tomorrow.
But while on her way home, something in her mind had struck.
Instead of doing the responsible thing, Catra directed herself to her guitar sitting in the corner of the room. She picked it from its stand and sat in front of the coffee table — paper and pen already laid out, waiting to be used.
Her fingers found the chords so naturally, and Catra began to quietly sing the lyrics that had appeared in her mind like a vision from whoever was above.
“Look at this mess I made, a fire that won’t fade, and I’m so blue over you.”
The poetry tugged at her heart, but Catra continued the chord progression, letting it lead her through the verse. When it ended, she let it pull her again, singing those lyrics and flowing into the next line, letting the music write itself.
Hours in the studio, only for Catra to sit on her own couch as the song found its voice, creating its own life from herself.
She didn’t notice the body standing in the doorway until it spoke.
“Cat,” Mara spoke, groggy from her sleep. Catra’s fingers went flat on the strings, silencing the guitar as an ear flicked back to listen. “What are you doing?”
Catra stared at the paper in front of her, still blank as she’d tried to figure out the rhythm, but she knew she had to get it down now. She reached for the pen, shifting herself a little closer to the table so she could write over her guitar without as much hassle. “I’ll come to bed shortly, I just need to get this down.”
The words scrawled out of the pen, chords written underneath as a reminder. It was the only sound in the room for that moment, until Mara made her way across the room, moving to sit down next to Catra on the sofa.
“You’ve been in the studio all evening,” she said as a hand ran over the back of Catra’s neck, massaging the muscle there. “Come to bed, you can do this in the morning.”
“I can’t forget it, okay?” Catra complained. Sadly the creative spirit didn’t care if it was time to sleep or not. Here it was, wanting to sing out another song after hours of refusing to while it had the perfect opportunity in the studio. She could sleep afterwards, once she’d squeezed the last of anything coherent out of her brain.
Surely Mara could understand that.
“Baby.” A second pet name already. Mara pressed a kiss to her cheek, shifting herself closer. Thankfully she did not argue beyond that, but Catra couldn’t say her sitting so close made any of this easier.
“I won’t be long,” Catra tried, hoping that Mara would take the bait and move back to bed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want her there. Catra appreciated Mara and the presence she’d been throughout the past year, and then some.
Since signing to Horde Records, Catra had felt like she’d been in a whirlwind. Her E.P. had sold far past anything she could have expected, relaunching again under the label. Soon after they had her writing out singles, radio hits that had been close to topping charts. Television appearances, a festival tour, and larger and larger local gigs that prepped her for what would come in the future. And then she’d had her first number one — a little different from her usual work, but Catra had never felt more proud. It only made sense that a full album was expected next.
And Mara had been there for all of it. For her victories, for the struggles, for the uncertainty and fear. She’d held Catra’s hand the whole time, keeping her grounded when it hadn’t felt real. Reminding her that everything she earned was through her own hard work.
Sometimes it still felt too surreal, and yet too many times she’d been promised only better things.
First, she had to churn out a best selling album.
And for that, she needed her creative juices flowing, and that wasn’t happening when Mara was crowding her.
“Okay,” Mara muttered, taking the hint. She kissed at Catra’s cheek again, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to squeeze in a hug. To contrast herself, Catra wanted to melt into that hug. It would be a wonderful feeling to finally do that once she’d make it to bed. The longer Mara prolonged leaving, the longer it would take for her to get there.
And it did seem like she was going to move, pulling herself away, but Catra noted the way her eyes scanned over the piece of paper on the table. Her body paused in its movement as she read the lyrics Catra had written down, soaking them in.
Something dropped in Catra’s stomach, and she was about to pick the paper up — but Mara beat her to it.
Her brow creased as her eyes flicked across the page, reading and rereading them over and over. Memorising the lyrics that Catra was so desperate to work on that she couldn’t even let herself sleep it off.
“It’s just lyrics.” The words tumbled out of Catra’s mouth, a little desperate, hoping it might ease Mara’s confusion. Instead it had an opposite effect as Mara pulled herself away, moving to walk around the other side of the coffee table, piece of paper still in hands.
“Are you going to tell me what they’re about?” Mara challenged.
Catra pressed her lips together, heart suddenly speeding up. It was weird how she suddenly felt like she’d done something so wrong. They were just lyrics, just her writing down her experience, writing out what she felt inside.
But she knew that emotions were meant to be a relationship thing. Something she was meant to tell her girlfriend, she was meant to share them with her. And when she was writing down words like that—
Yeah, Catra could understand where the confusion was coming from.
“They’re not about you,” Catra tried to reassure as she set the guitar aside. She stood, but Mara took that as a sign to move herself further away, to keep the space between them. “I promise, they’re just— It’s not that important.”
Betrayal laced Mara’s voice. “It’s important enough for you to put in a song.”
Catra’s mouth clamped shut. Of course, she understood that too. She’d been open enough about it before, about how her songs were created. Catra had always written from herself. She was sure most songwriters felt the same way. She only knew what she’d gone through, what had left its mark on her.
Her lyrics were something of a diary, writing out her deepest feelings in a way she could barely speak them. How funny that it worked that way — that what she struggled to say was so easy to sing down a microphone to a crowd of strange faces.
That was an issue to deal with at another time.
“I know, I know—” It looked bad. It felt bad. “I’m just— Trying something else. Nothing’s been feeling right in the studio and I really need this album to do well so I was just letting things flow, see what would happen.”
“So these are the feelings that come out when you’re letting it flow, and you don’t think that’s important?”
Yeah, it was really bad. “I was inspired!” Catra felt an urgency through her now, trying to find the right words to say. She paced, feeling the nervous energy through her now, and she stepped around the sofa to have more space to do so. “I keep writing these stupid love songs, I keep writing about being happy and none of it sticks! It just feels so—”
Hollow. Catra couldn’t say that out loud.
It didn’t matter. Whatever had come out of her mouth was wrong enough as it was, judging by the look on Mara’s face.
Pained, and it bled into her voice. “Are those songs about me?”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—
Catra squeezed her eyes shut, pinching at the bridge of her nose. “It’s not like that.”
“Not like what?”
“This isn’t about you versus her, alright?” Catra snapped, looking back to Mara. She was frustrated, this wasn’t an argument that even needed to happen, and yet here they were.
“Her.” Mara repeated. She chewed at her bottom lip, turning her eyes back down to the paper. Catra just watched, waiting, feeling her heart beat like a drum inside her chest. “You’re still writing about the girl from your old music?”
Catra rolled her eyes, turning herself away. She settled her eyes out beyond the window, staring at something on the other side of the street. “So what if I am?”
“You’re not over her?”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m over her or not,” Catra snapped harshly. What was even the point of this conversation? “She’s in the past.”
They stood in silence, Mara no longer knowing what to say to any of this. Good, Catra thought as she marched across the room, snatching the piece of paper from her hands. It didn’t matter what she was feeling about her, because this was Catra’s life. Here, with Mara, and that was the end of that.
She sat back down on the sofa, now glaring at the words she’d written on the piece of paper. Fucking typical. Even when she was left in the past, she was still managing to make her life difficult. Still finding a way to be ever present.
Was that what Catra got for writing her into her lyrics?
“I’m tired,” Mara muttered. Catra didn’t bother to meet her eyes. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
She drifted away, feet quiet as they padded out of the room and down to the bedroom. Catra was still, letting that frustration boil inside of her until it burned into anger. She grabbed the pen from the table and flung it against the wall — just needing to get it out somehow.
It shouldn’t be an issue, it shouldn’t, but Catra couldn’t help the feeling that she’d ultimately done something wrong. All because of her own stupid feelings, lingering on someone who probably didn’t even think about her anymore. It was frustrating, thinking that her own emotions were a mistake, an obstacle getting in the way of her damn relationship. That they were a problem.
Catra’s eyes drifted towards the door, to where Mara had disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.
If a line of lyrics were enough to cause such an issue, maybe this relationship wasn’t so perfect after all.
* * *
Catra had never felt so at peace.
Adora was pressed into her side, head resting on her chest. A finger had absently been tracing a pattern over her stomach, almost tickling but never quite making it there. It was soothing, and in return Catra’s hand had found its way into Adora’s hair, stroking her head gently underneath it all.
Peace. That’s all she felt as the height of their pleasure had died down between them. As they’d relaxed with each other, slowing down until Catra felt like she was back to reality. Peace, as a deep purr vibrated through her chest, radiating her with a feeling of content. Peace, as a thought came to her mind — this was all she’d ever wanted.
“What are you thinking about?” Adora asked, voice so careful, as if breaking the silence would break whatever spell they were under.
Catra smiled. She was thinking about how perfect this felt. Her long ago dreams and wishes couldn’t compare to the real thing. Her heart felt so big, swallowing the warmth of Adora’s body against her’s, bottling it to keep for later so she could remember this exactly as it was.
Catra could tell her that as she turned her face into the top of Adora’s head, where she could smell her hair, her scent, her everything. Instead, Catra said, “I could really eat some chicken wings right now.”
“What?” Adora’s head pulled back, lifted up to stare down at Catra lying on the pillows. She was lucky she didn’t headbutt Catra’s nose on the way up.
Catra grinned, chuckling. “What? I’m hungry. I think we should get some snacks going.”
She reached a hand out to her side but Catra was disappointed to find she wasn’t close enough to the edge of the bed to find the hotel telephone. She groaned as she reluctantly rolled herself away from Adora, picking up the receiver and pressing the button for the room service desk.
“You’re seriously telling me right now you’re thinking about your stomach?” Adora was astonished, and Catra could see in her face she was trying to work out if she should be humoured or offended.
“Adora, I haven’t eaten anything since before the concert.” Surely Adora had done something similar, unless she’d spent her time in the concert chomping down on whatever they had served there. What would they serve? Hotdogs? Nachos? Did Princesses even eat that kind of food?
Before Adora could reply, Catra heard a voice greet her down the phone. She spiralled off into perfect French, listing off what she wanted. It wasn’t that complicated of an order, but she knew the chicken wings would probably take some time this late into the night. It was sadly the downside, but it was to be expected, and she was thankful there was any room service going on at all.
She placed the receiver back down onto the phone, and turned back to a smirking Adora.
“What?”
“Fraises enrobées de chocolat?” she repeated, words Catra had spoken down the phone. “I may not know a lot of French but I know enough to say with confidence that’s not chicken wings.”
Catra tapped her nose but rolled her way back over the bed until their faces were barely a breath apart.
“I did say snacks, plural,” Catra teased, her lips pressing against Adora’s in a subtle, smooth kiss. “And you didn’t order anything, so I took the liberty of choosing myself.”
“I didn’t realise I was getting the chance to order anything.” The words were complaining, but Adora’s tone matched Catra’s. A little sultry, even. “I thought you said at the concert that you didn’t know how to speak French.”
Catra’s eyebrows raised up, questioning. “Adora, do you really believe everything I say at a concert is true?”
“I don’t see why you’d lie.”
“I’m putting on a show,” Catra cupped her cheek, pecking a kiss at the corner of her mouth. If food wasn’t on the way, Catra would not hold herself back from pressing kisses everywhere across Adora’s body once again. She never wanted to stop kissing her. “So what if I fib a little for entertainment?”
Adora didn’t seem to have a reply to that. Her half-lidded eyes stared into Catra’s, a dorky smile on her face speaking a thousand words. Oh, Catra enjoyed this Adora. So much more than the awkward, mopey one she’d been dealing with earlier in the evening.
She enjoyed that she could be the reason for this.
It only made it more difficult when Catra pulled herself away again, and this time removed herself from the bed altogether. Adora sat herself up full, watching Catra with a pout as she moved across the bedroom. As the sheet fell from her body, Catra bore witness to the marks she’d spread across her skin. “Where are you going?” Adora asked, sounding like a lost puppy.
“Can a girl not use the bathroom when she needs it?” Her eyebrows rose up with a smirk, and she caught the flash of embarrassment on Adora’s face before she drifted into the en-suite. If there was room service coming, she might as well make use of the time to make herself look less… Disarrayed.
It mostly meant fixing her hair — a mess after not properly looking after it once it was damp — and wiping off the stage makeup she hadn’t bothered with earlier in the night. Once her skin was freshened, Catra stared at herself in the mirror. She could see the evidence of Adora on her own skin as well, trailed down her neck and across her chest. She allowed two fingers to graze over them, admiring them. Adora, lingering on her, marked like a claimed possession. The thought had her smiling softly to herself before she ripped herself away from her reflection.
On her way out, Catra grabbed one of the bathrobes in an attempt to appear decent for the service waiter. As she pulled the belt tight around her middle, covering herself and the marks, Catra caught sight of the champagne left on the table. The two unfinished glasses were no longer bubbling, left too long in the open air. Still, it was a bottle of champagne — picked out especially for her birthday. It would be insulting to Scorpia if it was left to waste.
Taking the bottle, and two new glasses from the supply left for the party, Catra wandered back over to the bed, where Adora had busied herself on her phone while waiting for her return. She was quick to put it away as Catra sat on the bed next to her leg, handing her one of the glasses. “If it makes you feel any better,” Catra said as she poured Adora’s glass. “I’ve never fucked Scorpia.”
“What?” Adora almost choked, her cheeks flushing red again.
“You’re jealous we’re friends, are you not?” Catra raised her eyebrows again. “Jealous we were something… more?”
“N-no!” She shook her head, suddenly panicked. “It wasn’t about that.”
“Uh huh.” Catra poked her tongue into her cheek, pouring her own glass of champagne. “Still jealous of something though.”
“I’m not jealous—” Her cut short voice did not help to persuade Catra of that. She placed the champagne bottle on the bedside table, but Catra couldn’t help using the excuse to slide up closer to Adora, until her robe was pressed into her chest, their lips once again almost touching — close enough that they brushed together as Catra spoke back.
“Jealous of my chicken?” Catra hinted. “Jealous I’m going to be eating something other than your pussy?”
“Catra—” Adora whined, breathless. Oh, she was getting worked up again, wasn’t she? Catra was almost tempted to dip her hand under the duvet, just to see exactly how—
A knock at the door interrupted the moment, breaking it. Catra let out a long breath from her nose before pulling herself away, placing her glass next to the champagne bottle. “If you don’t want anyone to see you naked in my bedroom,” Catra said as she moved towards the door. “I suggest hiding under the covers.”
Catra didn’t even wait to see if Adora complied with that suggestion. She opened the door, smiling at the server on the other side. An older gentleman, well polished in his job. Catra appreciated the choice. It was much better than having to deal with some young, starstruck kid new to the scene.
He wheeled the trolley inside the room. Catra had already found her way to her backpack, fishing inside for her wallet to tip him. As she turned back around, she noted the lump under the duvet — and how the server tried, and failed, not to keep glancing at it. He was on his way quick enough, leaving Catra to bring the plates of food over to the bed.
“You’re safe, idiot,” Catra said as she moved to sit back on her side of the bed. She placed her chicken wings close to her, but left the plate of chocolate covered strawberries nearer to her company.
Adora, once free from the bed sheets, stared at her snacks of choice. “Seriously?”
“What, you couldn’t translate that?” Catra asked as she ripped chicken with her teeth. God, that was good. Sex was a good distraction, but now with the food in front of her, Catra realised just how hungry she was.
“I knew there was chocolate involved, just…” Adora waved towards the strawberries. “A bit cliché, is it not?”
Catra rolled her eyes. “Oh, sorry for being too romantic for you, Adora. I thought this wasn’t supposed to be another one night stand?”
It was supposed to be a joke, but even that panged deep in Catra’s stomach. Suddenly she was faced with the concern that she’d read all of Adora’s signs wrong, that she’d taken her words in the wrong context, that even the promise spoken earlier in the evening — will you stay? Yes — was about to be broken.
But the pain that fluttered onto Adora’s expression settled those concerns, and Catra watched as Adora helped herself to one of the strawberries.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “It’s very sweet of you.”
It left an uncomfortable air between them, Catra’s stomach rolling with it. She wanted to kick herself for so easily ruining the evening because of one shitty joke. Or maybe she’d ruined it for ordering the stupid strawberries in the first place. What did she know? She didn’t do romantic. Catra was much better at just being herself, and that had been working so well with Adora only a few minutes ago.
What a stupid idea. She should have just asked Adora what she actually wanted, at least then she’d have something comforting to eat, at least then she wouldn’t be thinking how cliché it was of her to go for something like strawberries. Were they even that filling, or was it just a waste of money as much as it was time—?
Catra’s overthinking was interrupted by Adora speaking up. “I have something to confess.”
If that was supposed to make this tension ease up, it did the exact opposite. Catra outright froze in her chewing, watching Adora with a careful eye. Adora, who refused to meet her gaze as she picked up another strawberry. Adora, who’s jaw twitched, body slumped over, looking ever so guilty.
Catra held her breath, waiting for the worst.
“I’ve…” Adora trailed off, building herself up to speak the truth. “Never listened to your music before tonight.”
That… was not what Catra was expecting to hear.
“What?”
Adora pressed her lips together, flicking her eyes up to Catra’s. “I’m sorry. It’s not because I didn’t want to, I tried! I just… couldn’t.”
Catra placed the chicken wing she was holding back onto the plate, frowning at Adora — out of confusion more than anything else, but still frowning. “You…” Catra drew out, making this as painfully slow as possible. “…were just complaining that you don’t know anything about my life. Did it ever occur to you that maybe listening to my music might be a start?”
“I—” Adora exhaled, exasperated. Catra had no idea why she needed to be, this was her fucking mess. “I know. I’m sorry. I wanted to, really. I remember when I first saw you out there, making it big like you always said you would, and I was so— I don’t even know.” Adora paused again, steadying her breathing once again before she continued. “I was surprised and shocked and happy. And I bought your album and then I went to listen to it and I just—”
Adora sighed and that sad, pained expression returned to her face.
“I couldn’t do it. I heard the first line and I turned it off. You were out there, living your dream, having this new life… And I wasn’t a part of it.” Her voice went small, shaking. “I so badly wanted to be supportive and proud of you but… It just hurt too much.”
Catra swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. She wasn’t sure how she was meant to take it. Part of her was annoyed that her so-called best friend hadn’t bothered to support her art, frustrated that every word she’d written for her had been falling on all the wrong ears. There were times throughout her career she’d thought to herself Adora will listen and Adora will know, all the pain she’s brought me, every hurt she’d done to me. To know now that it had all been false, that Adora knew none of it. It made it feel like she’d been living a lie.
And yet, there was a strange comfort to know her presence in the world had been enough to shake Adora. Much like seeing the Princess on the news or on her Twitter feed had filled her with a rage, Adora had experienced something similar, only with sorrow. It wasn’t satisfaction she felt for it, but there was something of validation in knowing she hadn’t been the only one in turmoil this entire time.
Adora pulled her knees up to her chest beneath the duvet, and crossed her arms so she could grip each bicep. “I don’t want to read too into it, but it kind of sounded like a lot of your songs tonight were about me.”
Well… she wasn’t wrong.
Catra thought back to the concert, how cathartic it felt singing all the words she’d written for Adora out into a crowd she knew she was a part of. Now she knew it was the first time Adora had ever heard those words. Words she’d written two, five, seven years ago. Words she’d written in raging fits and subdued depression. Words that brought tears to her eyes, that had made her laugh, that had made her feel sick with the truth they brought. Words she wasn’t even sure she could still relate to.
It was a very different experience, but ultimately it all ended at the same place.
“Well,” Catra picked up her chicken wings again, not allowing herself to forget about her hungry stomach. “First, strangely impressive you managed to avoid my music this entire time. Secondly, if you want to fix the whole not knowing me thing, I suggest buying every single piece of music I’ve ever made and listening to it in chronological order.”
Adora smirked. “Do I really have to buy—?”
“You most definitely have to buy everything I have ever put out into the world, and everything I ever will put out into the world.” Catra thought it was a very fair demand. “I am my most honest self in my music, Adora. Everything else can come after that.”
Adora nodded, taking the demand with grace.
“I’ll try not to cry.” It was supposed to be a joke, but Catra got the feeling there was a little more truth behind those words than Adora was willing to admit.
Catra moved the plate of wings closer to Adora. “Here, eat these with me,” she said. “And pass me my glass. Please.”
Adora did, and they found themselves in something more comfortable. Sharing a meal together — if this could even be called a meal — after Adora had shared a truth that had so obviously been weighing her down. It felt like an entirely different intimacy compared to what they had just experienced underneath the sheets.
It was something that felt like it could have fitted perfectly into their past.
Once the chicken wings were gone, easing the hunger, Catra placed the plate off the bed and moved closer to Adora. Closer, until she was straddling her over the covers once again. It came out of nowhere, but Adora appeared to relax as Catra made contact again — an indication that things hadn’t been ruined.
It seemed to spur her confidence again, as Adora’s hands wandered to the bathrobe belt, loosening it from Catra’s waist so the robe could fall open again, revealing Catra’s bare body. Adora’s eyes ate her up. Catra decided to humour her, removing the robe entirely.
Her breath hitched, despite having already seen it earlier that night.
“Catra?” Adora’s eyes landed on her face as Catra found the plate of chocolate strawberries.
“Mm?” she hummed in question, picking one of the strawberries from the plate. The one most covered, she decided.
Adora’s hands rested on her thighs, lightly stroking back and forth. It was a beautiful touch, warming Catra’s core with little effort. “I meant what I said earlier,” she shared with her. “I really… really want to fix this. I want to make this work.”
“Good.” It was nice to hear those words hadn’t been false and hollow. Catra held the strawberry up against Adora’s lips, until she opened her mouth and allowed Catra to feed it into her. “Promise me.”
Adora chewed, swallowed. “I promise.”
Beautiful. Catra kissed her, lips tasting sweet from the mixture of chocolate and fruit. As if Adora couldn’t be anymore delicious to her.
An arm wrapped around her shoulder, so that even once Catra broke the kiss, they were still so very close.
“I don’t know how we’re going to do it but I’m willing to try anything,” Adora blabbered. Was she getting nervous again? Nervous chatting? Catra didn’t mind it so much, picking out another strawberry to feed to her. “And if you ever still hate me, you can.”
Catra paused, tilting her head as her eyes narrowed. It was weird how Adora was so insistent on that word. Hate. It dawned on her that her assumption to what it meant earlier had been wrong, that Adora wasn’t being figurative with the word. Adora was struggling with something. Some internal battle. Catra wanted to pick it apart.
“Do you want me to still hate you?”
Adora’s hands stopped at the question, her fingers digging into skin. She seemed to freeze up at the question, unable to find whatever words she needed to answer it. Catra offered the other strawberry, and Adora took it gladly. Perhaps with her mouth full for a moment, she’d have the time to think of the answer she was looking for.
When she did swallow, and did find her voice again, it came out quieter than before. “I just think… that if you hate me, then at least you feel something for me.”
Once again Catra found herself confused by Adora’s words, by her feelings. It was probably the stupidest thing she’d ever heard from her. Surely Adora couldn’t believe all of this was born out of hatred. This, feeding strawberries into her mouth while maximising contact between their bare skin. This, agreeing to spend her birthday night with her, wanting to spend her birthday night with her, tangled up in each other’s limbs and learning everything she could about her body.
Surely Adora wasn’t that dense.
“Adora,” Catra began, picking out another strawberry. At some point she would probably steal one for herself but for now she was happy doing it this way. “Remember how you wondered if those songs were written about you?”
“Yes,” was all she could get out before Catra was feeding the fruit into her lips.
“Mhmm,” she hummed, pressing her forehead against Adora’s. She could smell the sweet fruit from her there, could look deep into her eyes, right down to her soul. “When you listen to my albums, I want you to know that you are in every piece of music I have ever written. For every song about you, for every song that isn’t about you, you are always there. Even if you can’t find it, I promise that you are.”
Adora’s eyes did that thing again — flicking between Catra’s, unsure which of the blue or the gold to focus on. Eventually it didn’t matter as Catra cupped her jaw and leaned in until lips brushed against lips.
“When you listen,” she spoke so softly, but Catra knew Adora could hear every single word no problem. “Listen carefully, and tell me how I feel.”
Notes:
French translation: I can’t find my underwear, do you have them?
catra's biggest turn on being commitment is so valid of her.
if ur wondering if the mel in this chapter is a self insert, i'm telling you right now that NO, she is not. i just used the 80's version of melog for that character. melog. mel. (
pronounced like meal, obviously)the lyrics used in this chapter were actually written by ehj!. they're from her song 'fire fights' which you should check out. (note: this is not the song catra writes, its just that line of lyrics, ok???) anyway go show her love on twitter.
i made a playlist. it's of songs that are of similar sounds to catra/what she might write/idk just general vibes. u get it. i just thought i'd share lmao.
also !! chapter 3 of this fic will be posted for the SPOP Big Bang week !! expect the next update to be then, along with pieces of art for chapter 1 and chapter 3 created by wednesdaystarfish! follow her to keep an eye out for them when they're posted!
Chapter 3: i will take good care of you
Summary:
New York City, some unexpected cameos, and more said without words than with.
Notes:
chapter title is from i will by mitski.
this is my contribution to the SPOP Big Bang Week 2021 !!! accompanied with two pieces of glorious art by wednesdaystarfish. the first can be found here for a scene from chapter one !!! there's another piece within this chapter so look out for that !!!
this chapter is full of self indulgence so i do hope you enjoy :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I yearn to belong to something, to be contained
in an all-embracing mind that sees me
as a single thing.
I yearn to be held
in the great hands of your heart—”
— Rainer Maria Rilke
“In the heat of her hands I thought, This is the campfire
that mocks the sun. This place will warm me, feed me
and care for me. I will hold on to this pulse against other
rhythms. The world will come and go in the tide of a day
but here is her hand with my future in its palm.”
— Jeanette Winterson
JANUARY, TWENTY-TWENTY,
NEW YORK CITY
“Bow, can you please bring me the hair pins?”
“In a second!”
Bow’s voice rang through from the bathroom into the hotel room, with a singsong tone that made it pleasant to the ears. It didn’t stop Glimmer from huffing behind Adora, her fingers stuck in her hair as she held braided locks in place. Adora had trouble keeping her laugh to herself, but she suspected Glimmer still noticed the shake in her shoulders.
When Bow did appear, he did so with a face of green. His skin was covered in a layer of cream, which Adora could see drying by the second, darkening as it set. She could feel the sensation on her own face, tingling as the cream seeped into her pores.
“Oh, you decided to join us?” Adora asked, moving her mouth as little as possible. Bow tossed a small accessory bag onto the bed next to Glimmer, who immediately unzipped it with her free hand to fetch out a few hair pins to use.
Bow raised an eyebrow — or at least as much as he could with the solidifying cream on his face. “Adora, the face masks were my idea.”
Alright, he had a point.
It was nice, getting the chance to start her long day with her two best friends. The norm for scheduled events was to be surrounded all day by staff members and advisors, always so business and formal. Today, however, was her birthday, and Adora had used the excuse to have at least some of her own personal choices in how she spent the hours before the actual event.
How strange it was to have her own birthday taken from her, to celebrate the Princess She-Ra rather than herself.
So even if she had to get her make-up done later, and get dressed in an outfit she had to get approved, at least she could apply some face masks with her friends and get her hair braided like it was a sleepover.
“Isn’t there supposed to be some tea, Bow?” Glimmer asked from behind Adora, her fingers masterfully pulling Adora’s hair into the perfect formation. Tight, and it tugged against her skull, but Adora knew Glimmer was just trying to make it perfect.
“Yes, yes, hold on,” he said as he turned on the wall mounted television, grabbing the controller. “I’m starting to feel like I’m running around after you two.”
“We really appreciate it,” Glimmer teased over Adora’s shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Adora asked, turning the conversation to whatever Bow was up to. He was already flicking through the apps, selecting the one he seemed to have been looking for.
He glanced over to her. “Oh, Catra was on a talk show last night, I thought we could watch the interview while we wait for these.” His finger circled his own face, indicating the mask.
The mention of her name, thrown into conversation so casually, had Adora’s heart jump. If it had been weird hearing others talk about Catra without knowing about her tie to her before, it was much stranger now. Adora always had to keep her cool in check, making sure she didn’t give any of it away.
It had been worse immediately after their night in Paris. Adora had almost given it away so many times, flustered by her own actions but excited about what the future might hold. She was sure Glimmer had almost gotten the truth from her multiple times. She definitely knew something had happened, even if she had no idea who it involved or what it might have been. Adora had tried her best to keep it that way.
As time ticked by, and with the lack of seeing each other, it had settled into a low buzz in her stomach. Something that only fluttered when Adora found herself thinking about her, or when she happened to hear her name.
Which of course, had become more frequent after Adora had turned to Bow for help.
After all, Adora had wanted to be true to her word. Catra had asked her to listen to her music, and if it was her only wish then Adora wanted to take it seriously. The act itself had taken some thorough pep talks to herself, psyching herself up to analyse every lyric to work out if it was about her or not. Eventually she sat herself down and one by one went through every album Catra had ever released.
She’d taken a few days to listen to each, fully appreciating everything that went into them. She’d concentrated on the details of the production, pulled up the lyrics on her phone to read them over and over, stared at the album artwork for what must have been full hours. All of it mattered, all of it was important as she pulled apart the threads of what had made Catra who she was over this past decade. All of it painting a picture of how she felt.
Adora would be lying if she said she hadn’t cried. She would be lying if she said the love letters hadn’t broken her heart the same way she was sure Catra had felt when she was writing them. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel better afterwards — if only because she felt less blind.
Once she’d made her way through each album, she’d turned to Bow — the biggest Catra fan she knew — to show her everything else she’d missed between them.
Clearly he was taking his role very seriously.
Bow located the episode of the talk show he was looking for and began to fast forward through the other guests until he found Catra’s segment. Seeing her face again, even if it was just on the screen, had her cheeks burning. Adora was thankful for the face mask covering her skin and hiding her blush, but it wouldn’t do much for the smile that wanted to pull out her cheeks.
Three months was too long, she’d decided. They had made a promise to each other to try and make it work, but it was easier said than done when they lived in countries separated by an ocean. They’d both been busy, the holidays demanding too much of their time, and they’d found themselves missing each other more often than not.
The quick texts, the few phone calls, it had only been so much.
Adora tried not to think too hard about the fact she was suddenly in the city Catra called home.
On screen, Catra grinned wide and waved to the audience as she took her seat in the interview armchair. She looked relaxed, at home. Adora had seen it in person for herself, but Catra truly knew how to conduct herself on stage. Sometimes Adora couldn’t believe it was her — or rather, couldn’t believe it was the young girl she’d once known so long ago.
“Catra! It’s good to see you,” greeted the television host. Adora wasn’t sure what his name was, she rarely watched these kinds of shows. He was probably a Jimmy.
“Thank you, thanks, yeah, it’s great to be back.”
“It’s great to have you back! Lucky for us as well, you seem to be one busy woman.”
Catra bared her teeth in something that said yikes, nodding her head. “Yeah, yeah, I think it’s been pretty non-stop for the past few months.”
There was a knock at the door, and Bow pulled himself out of his trance of watching the television to answer it. Adora didn’t bother pulling her eyes away from the screen — she was very much still thoroughly hooked.
“Very busy. First you had your European tour, and then immediately afterwards you were in the studio working on new music.”
Catra shrugged her shoulders, the smug written all over her.
“And you’ve been on everything from Saturday Night Live to the Jingle Ball show, and you had three Grammy nominations!”
“Voilà!” Bow returned from the door, presenting them both with to-go cups of tea. Adora sniffed at hers carefully, trying to work out from the aroma what exactly he’d ordered for them.
Glimmer scoffed. “This is your great tea plan? I thought you were making it!”
Bow invited himself onto the bed, his weight cuddling in close to where Glimmer was sitting. Adora would try to turn to look at him, but her hair was still at the mercy of Glimmer, and she had the feeling that turning would get her in trouble.
“I never said that,” Bow said sweetly. “I just said I knew where to get some great tea. Go on, try it!”
Adora, still uncertain, gingerly sipped at her tea. The experience was just as odd as she was expecting. While Adora liked her coffee, she enjoyed her tea just as much. Bow, however, just took it to an extreme level. He was in a phase, bringing interesting blends to their hangouts for almost two years now, coercing the two of them to try them out. After two years it was starting to feel like less of a phase and more an entire personality trait, but she had to admit there were some interesting tastes she’d never thought she’d experience brought to her attention thanks to his endeavours.
This… was not one of them. Adora instantly reeled back after her first sip, brow creased as she stared at the liquid. The golden blend felt like it had betrayed her. “Bow, what the hell is this?”
“This is a special black cherry blend!” He beamed, positive his choice had been worth it.
“Blended with what?” Glimmer asked, and from her tone alone Adora could tell she was having a very similar reaction to her own.
“Vanilla, strawberry, and licorice.”
Adora turned around to face him, but thankfully any trouble she might have received from Glimmer was held back as she did the same. They both said at the same time, exasperated, “Licorice?!”
“What? It’s good!”
“Bow, I don’t even like licorice!” Glimmer complained.
They fell into marriage-like bickering as Adora turned back to watch the television, tuning her ears back to the conversation happening on screen.
“...You’d think after all of that you’d want to take a break. Why, why back in the studio so soon?”
Catra shrugged again, but sat herself forward as the conversation clearly turned to something she was interested in talking about. She even directed some of her words to the audience, engaging with them.
“Well, I started touring back in February. Did the world tour, North America, South America, Asia, then finally in Europe, and things kept happening in between, and after all that— I just got inspired, you know? I was writing on the road, nothing I really expected to go anywhere, but as soon as I was back I was just… motivated. Went back in and it was just magic, all coming together super well.”
“Amazing. Always, always amazing with you Catra, you always keep us on our toes. You released ‘Corridors’ back in December…”
“Yeah! ‘Corridors’ and now ‘Failsafe’, which came out last week.”
“‘Failafe’, which you’re performing for us tonight at the end of the show.”
Catra nodded, her enthusiasm still plastered across her body language. “First time live, you guys better enjoy it.”
“All these new singles, are they leading to anything? A new album perhaps?”
Catra settled back into her chair, that familiar smirk directed at the host, mischievous eyes glinting. “They’ll lead to something. Sure, they’ll lead to something, but I’m not giving any confirmation as to what.”
For a second, Adora wondered if that was because Catra had no idea what it was yet.
“Okay, Adora! Your hair is done!” Glimmer’s voice was filled with a triumphant glee as her hands removed themselves from the braid. Adora reached behind her, lightly feeling the perfect plait, careful not to dislodge anything. Her small smile was only thanks to the solid face mask making it impossible to move her cheeks without cracking.
“Aww, thanks Glimmer,” she said as she shuffled herself around on the bed, bringing her arm around Glimmer’s shoulders for an awkward hug. Glimmer’s to-go cup had mysteriously vanished from her hands, but Adora was still holding out hope with her own. “At least I’ll have a piece of you with me all night.”
“Oh, it’s not going to be that bad.” Glimmer tried to be optimistic, rubbing her hand over Adora’s back in a soothing circle. “Everyone’s going to be there! Like a Prom re-do without all the boring parts attached to it.”
Adora tried, she really did, to see the fun in it, but a huge birthday bash in New York City had not been her idea. In fact, she’d had little to do with the planning at all. The Eternian Court had taken it upon themselves to treat their Princess, unknowingly making her feel invisible.
She was used to it by now — this horrible feeling deep inside of her. It had been plaguing her for a decade now, eating away at her very core as she slowly and slowly felt herself withering away. Stripped of her own personality, of her own wishes and desires, left to play a part she had no control in. And it was days like today, where all of it was elevated and emphasised, that Adora felt the worst.
She felt so empty.
But Glimmer was right. The other Princesses had all been invited, and while there were sure to be the types of people Adora didn’t want to entertain speaking to her at some point, it was wonderful knowing a lot of the night would just be her catching up with the people she cared about the most.
She raised her eyebrows at her two friends sitting with her. “You two better make tonight worth it.”
“Of course!” Bow and Glimmer replied in unison, grinning at each other once they realised what they’d done.
Adorable, she thought as she watched the pair of them. If only they would hurry up and kiss already.
If anything else was going to be said, it was lost as a question was posed on the television. “…So. While we had you here, we wanted to ask you about Paris.”
Paris. Paris. Whatever joy was on Adora’s face drained out of her, her heart dropping into the pit of her stomach. Her neck almost cracked with the speed she spun around to watch the television. The cameras were trained on Catra, expression unreadable as she waited to see where the question was going.
The host pulled out a board from under the desk, presenting photographs. It took a moment for Adora to recognise them, having been on the other side of the camera, but it was very obviously images of her and Catra snapped as they’d left the concert venue. Adora remembered it, remembered the fear she’d felt, that sinking feeling, that drowning feeling, before she’d made it into the car.
And Catra had been there, comforting her, reminding her that it was going to be fine.
Adora had believed her then.
She wasn’t so sure now.
“So here we have you with… Princess She-Ra? What was, what was that about?”
The camera switched back to Catra, and Adora could see it easily. Her eyes were only set on the host, but her tongue poked at her bottom lip. What little emotion was there showed a woman who was pissed that they were even trying to approach the subject. Like she’d murder the host at any moment if he even tried to ask the wrong thing, and she’d make sure to do it painfully.
Catra, the wonderful performer that she was, played along. “What can I say, she was at my show.”
Adora’s chest felt tight. A fear of unknowing, a fear of being out of control as this played out in front of her. This — a show that had filmed earlier in the week, that had played already on national television. She was late to her own party, and that was terrifying. Terrifying that she had no idea how this was going to end.
Why hadn’t Catra warned her?
“But it’s a Princess. At your show. I mean, you’re leaving together… What are you, friends?”
He was digging, he was going to keep digging, this wasn’t going to end well, he was going to find out—
“You seriously don’t know, do you?”
What?
If her lungs had felt restricted before, now they didn’t work at all. Her breathing stopped, her heart speeding up to an uncomfortable pace, and her eyes stung from the lack of blinking as she stared at the screen in horror.
Catra looked somewhat smug again — a change from the daggers she’d been visually stabbing into the host. It did nothing to settle the nerves Adora was feeling. What did she do? Had she dropped the truth, admitted they’d left together and spent the whole night in her hotel room? About what they’d done, about what they said? And if not that, then what? What could they possibly not know? Their past together, the base of their friendship? It wasn’t any better of a truth to tell, nobody outside of the Court knew where Adora had come from and it was supposed to stay that way. She hadn’t shared her past with anyone, not even Glimmer and Bow, not even—
Adora’s panicked inner monologue was stopped as Catra pointed at the host. “Well. You should know.” Then she turned to the rest of the audience. “You guys seriously don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” The host asked, sounding genuinely confused.
Catra seemed to be just as confused, but for very different reasons. She was playing it up, but doing so in a way that made it look like her thoughts were supposed to be obvious. “Celebrities aren’t friends.”
Silence in the studio. Catra glanced around, but she didn’t lose her cool, sitting up a little more in her seat as she continued with her point. “No, seriously. We’re not friends, celebrities aren’t friends. Sure, we hang out at parties, we laugh, we chat, we catch up, but that doesn’t mean we’re friends. We’re just people all in the same situation, why wouldn’t we have empathy for each other?”
“So you and the Princess…?”
“The Princess and I are not friends. What, you think after one show we’re magically friends? She was there, I was honoured, we had a chat, and then we left. What was I supposed to do, not invite the Princess She-Ra to talk? It wouldn’t be the first time another celebrity has turned up at my show as a fan, it happens all the time.”
Adora became semi-aware of someone saying her name, but she was still too highly vigilant on the broadcast, waiting for all of it to come crashing down.
The streamed-in version of Catra did not seem to be waiting for the same. If anything, she seemed to be having a fantastic time, grinning to the audience as she upped her performance even more. “Come on, you really think the Princess She-Ra would be friends with someone like me? Me, seriously?”
That at least got a laugh from the audience, and as the host eased up he saved the segment after Catra’s clear derailment. The host started to ramble off the usual talk-show spiel, promoting Catra once more before moving onto the next thing on their agenda. Adora, feeling a strange numbness, turned back to Glimmer and Bow — who were both staring at her with concern pouring out of them.
“Do you think anyone from the Court saw that?” Adora asked them, ignoring the very obvious questions they must have had — and whatever real feelings were currently boiling up inside of her, making her body uncomfortable to be in.
“…I’m not sure,” Bow offered, unhelpfully, but said in that voice that showed he was trying to be comforting. He was just trying to search for the right words.
“Why would it be bad if they saw it?” Glimmer asked in return, and while the question felt like it was prodding, it also came with a softness that Adora recognised.
“I, um…” She couldn’t tell them the truth. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t do that. It was too early still for that. At least there was some truth to her lie, which made it easier to get out. “I wasn’t supposed to be at that show.”
They didn’t even question it. If anyone knew the struggles she’d had with her own Court, it was Bow and Glimmer. They’d heard what rants had escaped her, what frustrations she’d felt at the restrictions that were placed on her own life. Glimmer related to many of them as a Princess herself, and Bow had been with them for so long that he’d witnessed all of it first hand.
Bow pulled a smile onto his face as he pulled himself up from the bed. “They’re probably way too out of touch to watch this sort of stuff,” he reassured her. It only did so much. Maybe they were, but absolutely anyone connected to the staff might have informed them of that small publicity stunt.
At least Catra had saved it — she seemed so natural at it, moulding the story to fit her own narrative, even as someone sprung it on her out of nowhere. It had been obvious to Adora at least that Catra had disliked the direction of questions as much as she did. It was something she could appreciate. Even if it didn’t matter as much to Catra, she knew it mattered to Adora — and that mattered the most.
Adora wondered if it pained Catra as much as it did her to have to claim they weren’t friends.
The Princess and I are not friends.
Adora really hoped she didn’t believe that.
Bow found the remote, and quickly turned off the television altogether. It left the room in an uncomfortable silence, the mood completely shifted from the fun early morning slumber party feeling they’d somehow accomplished originally.
A clap of the hands from Glimmer pulled their attention, and she teleported herself off the bed in a fit of sparkles that seemed incredibly unnecessary. “How about we get these face masks off then? Adora, I feel like my face is about to peel off if I leave it on for any longer.”
A smile crept onto her lips, nodding as she removed herself from the bed and followed her friends into the bathroom, letting them ramble on about the best way to remove the mask for the most effective result.
It was still early, the day wasn’t ruined.
Still, she felt like she was ready for it to be over — only so she could take advantage of where she was instead.
* * *
FOUR YEARS PREVIOUSLY
“Can you please turn that off?” Adora demanded — and for once, it was a real demand.
Bow looked hurt, a pout featured on his lips, but he did as he was asked and turned off the music playing out of his phone before moving to join her and Glimmer at the breakfast table.
“I don’t know why you hate her music so much, Adora,” Bow pointed out as he took the seat closer to Glimmer. Adora had long ago learned not to find that offensive, and even in this instance as they disagreed on something ridiculous, she knew it was nothing more than second nature to Bow.
“I don’t know why you like her music so much, Bow.” Alright, maybe that was uncalled for, but Adora couldn’t help the aggravation she felt when it came to the subject of music sensation Catra.
“Adora,” Glimmer said pointedly across the table. “Can you two not fight over nothing? This is the first time we’ve had breakfast together in months, and I want it to be lovely.”
It was true. Adora had found herself travelling with the Court all across the globe over the past year, and the last she’d been in control enough to spend time with her friends had been back in the autumn months. It was disappointing to be dragged away from Glimmer and Bow, but Adora had found herself in the company of the likes of the other Princesses. It wasn’t so often she managed to spend time with them, so the few chances she got were something Adora held dear to her heart.
Still. It didn’t always match up to the Best Friends Squad.
And if it meant so much to Glimmer, she didn’t want to ruin breakfast any further. Adora dug back into her food, silencing herself. She’d be just content to sit there and listen to her two best friends chat away, catching her up on smaller pieces of news she might have missed while she was gone.
Bow, pouring himself a glass of orange juice, apparently couldn’t keep his mind off of it. “Speaking of Catra, did you guys see she broke up with Taylor Swift?”
The sound of cutlery hitting ceramic rang through the room as both Glimmer and Adora snapped to attention. Glimmer looked exasperated. “Really, Bow? You’re obsessed—”
“Why?” Adora interrupted. A frown had creased itself into her brow.
Bow blinked in Adora’s direction and answered with a small shrug of his shoulders, moving on from the orange juice to helping himself to some toast. “No idea, but they unfollowed each other on Instagram and Catra was seen with someone else last night. They looked a little too close for it to not be a thing.”
A pang of something shot through Adora’s stomach, and she hated the way her heart skipped a beat with the direction the conversation was going. Her mind wandered, imagining Catra finding comfort in someone after a break up. The dangerous flirting, the kind that would lead only to one thing, with tempting kisses and wandering hands. A comfort, a distraction. Moving on, taking her affections and giving them to someone else, indulging them in her.
Adora’s mouth went dry. Had she done the same with her so long ago, or had that never been an issue?
“Did—” Adora’s words caught in her throat. “Did they have a fight, or—?”
Bow gave another shrug as he spread jam onto his toast, but she could see the confusion on his face now. “I don’t actually know them personally, Adora.”
“Wow, really, because you could fool me.” Glimmer’s tone was laced with sarcasm. The kind of sarcasm that was meant to bite. “Do you have one of those stupid stan accounts for her?”
“No!” Bow was defensive, physically pulling himself back from Glimmer. He looked offended for a moment, but that seeped away to show an expression of guilt. His eyes flicked between his two friends before the burning sensation in his ears must have got to him. “...I have an updates account for her.”
“You have a what?”
That was it — Glimmer and Bow fell into their usual bickering over the stupidest of things, this time it being a stan account, whatever that was. It turned into white noise for Adora, leaving them to their thing as she dug her phone out of her pocket and did what she had told herself she’d never do.
She googled Catra.
Bow was right. News reports and gossip articles were all over the top news feed, feasting on the idea that two of the biggest names in music at the moment had called it quits. Adora barely read them, skimmed them as her thumb scrolled down the pages, as if she could find a reason for the break up—
Not that she needed to know. Adora was sure it wouldn’t bring her any peace of mind or any satisfaction to find out the truth. If all she did was keep digging and digging and digging, it was all for a superficial want. The want to protect Catra from whatever hurt she might be facing.
Instead, all it did was hurt Adora — sharp knives digging into her gut as she scrolled, her eyes bleeding as she read buzzwords and headlines. She felt her own body ripping up inside, those knives turning into razors. Every line read was another drop of poison into open wounds, an acidic burn promising to keep them there forever.
When it all became too much, Adora flipped her phone so the screen was facing straight down on the surface. One hand gripped against the table, her knuckles white with the force as she tried to return her mind to breakfast.
Impossible, when all Adora could think was — she’s moved on. And with it, she’d left a trail of others, long ago burying whatever had fluttered between them.
* * *
The braid stayed in. Even through dressing, make-up, and travelling to the ballroom, Adora was thankful that the braid stayed in, making her feel far more like herself through the glamour of her over-the-top birthday party.
And thankfully, both Bow and Glimmer had stayed at her side as they travelled through New York together in a limo. Arriving at the ballroom had them stepping out onto a red carpet — Adora feeling as though she was going through deja vu as she proceeded through the routine again. Camera flashes, public smile, hands on hips, wave to the crowd. Ingrained, over done, and still it gained the affection of the people that she so served.
Even when a microphone was pushed into her face, Adora knew how to play the game. I’m so thankful, she answered to a question she hadn’t fully heard. For everything! Tonight is going to be wonderful and I’m looking forward to spending it with all the people I love the most.
It wasn’t just about her though, was it? Tonight was also about the charity of the night — for publicity of course. At least she’d had some choice in what they were raising money for. For bringing food and education to children globally, she told the reporters. It’s a cause that means a lot to me.
If only her role as She-Ra was any more useful to causes like that.
When they were inside, Adora was thankful that it meant no more cameras beyond the hired photographers for photo-ops. At least she could be herself as she was sat at the head table, Glimmer to one side of her and Bow on the other. It had been her decision to have the Princesses join her at the head table for dinner. Anything else could wait until after they had eaten.
Their first guest to join them, Princess Perfuma, sat on the other side of Bow. “Happy Birthday, Adora!”
“Thank you,” Adora said with a soft smile. She leaned around Bow, offering her hand to Perfuma, warmth spreading through her. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“I wouldn’t miss your special day for the world,” Perfuma grinned.
The next to join was Mermista, accompanied by her “so not a date” Sea Hawk, sitting on the other side of the round table directly across from them. She mentioned a birthday gift — “Any time you want, we can head to my private island for a holiday,” she said. “And, you know, whoever else you want to come.”
Frosta found her way to the table then, taking the free seat between Glimmer and Mermista. “Ugh, I’m so glad I’m finally old enough to drink here.” She commented as she immediately helped herself to one of the champagne glasses from the middle of the table.
“Want me to keep an eye on her?” Glimmer whispered to Adora as they watched her almost down the entire glass.
“For her sake, yeah, might be a good idea.”
And lastly — Princess Scorpia. She found the last seat next to Perfuma and Sea Hawk, but did not sit herself down immediately. It was safe to say that out of all the invited parties, Scorpia was the most out of the group, but Adora had decided to share the invitation to her table nonetheless. If not to show good faith, then to settle some of those feelings Catra had stirred up the last time they’d been in the same room together.
Suddenly, Adora wasn’t so sure it was a good idea
“It’s so wonderful to be here,” Scorpia said after wishing her a happy birthday. Adora couldn’t tell if her moving from one foot to the other was out of nerves or anticipation. “Thank you for inviting me!”
“Thank you for accepting,” Adora said kindly. She waved down towards the seat. “Please, sit. We’re here as friends, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Right, yes—” Nerves was starting to feel more and more like the answer Adora was looking for. Scorpia hooked one of her clawed hands around the backrest, pulling her seat out before pausing. “I almost forgot, I, uh—” She coughed, clearing her throat. She reached into her handbag dangling from one shoulder and pulled something out of it. It appeared to be a small card as she held it out for Adora across the table, somehow miraculously not damaging it in her claw. “Our mutual friend asked me to give you this.”
Our mutual— Adora’s heart jumped. Her hand shot out, quickly taking the small envelope. She didn’t even bother to tear it open nicely, running her thumb through the folded edge in jagged tugs. It was forgotten about as soon as she pulled the card free.
The front was blank, nothing but a block of deep red to make it more interesting than the white card it was printed on. Adora didn’t care as she flipped it open, finding the words written for her.
The handwriting was small, but beautiful in the cursive that looked so delicate. Like if she breathed too harshly, the letters would float away.
The message inside was short.
Happy Birthday. I look forward to the time we spend together, whenever that may be. — C
It was short, simple, with little indication to the emotion Adora was sure it was written with. Sure, because her heart was beating a mile a minute, threatening to burst out of her chest at any second.
Might be a lot sooner than you think, she thought to herself with a secret smile.
“What is it?” Glimmer asked at her side, and Adora slapped the card shut faster than her heart pumped.
“Oh, it’s—” she shrugged her shoulders, slipping the card back into the envelope. It was small enough she was sure she could fit it into the inside pocket of her suit jacket, and began to tuck it away. “It’s just a birthday card, nothing important.”
Glimmer raised a brow in question, but she didn’t push it any further. They now had a full table to speak to after all, it was pointless to focus on something so meaningless as a piece of card.
Funny, then, how Adora couldn’t get it out of her mind.
With the last of the table coming together, though, so did the rest of the party. The other tables were filled with guests from Courts, and celebrity guests who had been invited on behalf of Adora. She had chosen very little of the guest list, instead just being the shiny object the Eternian Court waved in front of the eyes of the wealthy to bring them together for such a high class event. That, and to make sure their charitable intentions were matched with large offerings. It had to look worthwhile, in the end.
As the noise had grown between the tables, filling the room with a never ending rumble, the night finally went on it’s way. Just beyond the head table, behind where Mermista and Sea Hawk sat, was the venue stage. Currently placed at the back were instruments, waiting to be used for the dance later in the night, but they were not in the limelight as Galen approached the stage. Adora hushed her table, and she heard the wave of silence as the rest of the room followed suit.
Galen approached a microphone at the front of the stage, grinning down at the crowd with a smile that Adora had never been fond of. It was too cheesy, even for public appearances.
His voice rang through the hall, bouncing off walls unpleasantly. “Welcome! Welcome! Welcome all to the wonderful celebration of our Princess She-Ra’s thirtieth birthday!”
Applause sounded around the room, and Adora played her part of grinning, turning as much as she could to see faces staring back at her. She held her hand above her head, waving in a regal fashion to thank for the homogeneous birthday wish. Really, it meant absolutely nothing to her, and she was just waiting for this speech to be over so she could enjoy the evening’s meal.
“It was such a blessing when we crowned our Princess She-Ra almost eleven years ago, after waiting for her return for over a hundred years. When our world felt the bleakest, she shined an everlasting light upon us all and brought the Etherian Courts together again in unity.”
It was amazing how Adora could feel her soul dying in real time. There it was again — a spotlight on She-Ra rather than the girl who was actually born thirty years ago. She was supposed to be used to it by now, like the practised smiles and kind eyes that looked up to Galen now, but in reality Adora could feel her heart breaking ever further as her night was taken from her.
She’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, with the people she adored. The group here with her now — and one very absent presence — doing something she wanted. Privately, for only them to know. There was nothing really stopping her from doing that another day, but it did not stop the way the Court had stolen parts of her identity for their righteous Princess.
It was hard to hold herself back from going that little bit further — they had stolen her for their righteous Princess She-Ra.
And still, Galen droned on. “There is nothing better in this world than which brings us together, through borders and across seas. We as a people are one on this world, and that is why it is so important for our Princess She-Ra that we celebrate today by giving to others. It is so important that we do what we can to bring a better life to children across the world.”
Glimmer muttered at her side. “What a load of bull—”
“Mhmm,” Adora hummed, cutting her off but keeping her voice low. “Just smile and look pretty, Glimmer.”
“I, and the rest of the Eternian Court, believe there is so much greater we can do. So much greater that She-Ra can do, and so we toast to the future of our Princess!”
Galen lifted his glass, and the room followed suit. Adora did the same, holding up her own as her friends around the table raised their arms. Though they smiled, she did not smile back to them, and kept her eyes planted firmly on the table before her.
“To She-Ra!” Rang through the air, and Adora gulped down her drink.
It might be wise to assign Glimmer with the task of keeping an eye on her tonight as well.
“I don’t want to keep you waiting from your dinner any longer than I need to,” Galen spoke. Adora heard the shuffles in the seats around her, and she knew that every single one of her guests were anxiously awaiting their food. “But first, as per tradition, a rendition of the Anthem for our glorious She-Ra.”
“Oh, here we go.” Glimmer’s eye roll was practically audible. Adora had never related to her more.
Play the part, she told herself. Just look up, smile, clap. The song would be over quickly and she’d be able to get back to her friends for the evening. It would be easier if she hadn’t heard the overtly peppy song too many times in her life. It would be easier if she didn’t hate it for what it stood for.
Be grateful, look grateful, look like you’re enjoying this, play the part—
“Oh my…” Bow’s voice broke through her inner monologue, words trailing off into silence. Adora glanced up to him, but his eyes — wide and wondrous — stayed glued to the stage.
Adora looked back as band members found their places with their instruments, back up singers took their line just in front, and a spotlight was placed on who now stood at the microphone.
“Holy shit,” was all she could get out in return.
Catra — with a mischievous smirk on her face — stood beautiful in the light. She wore a dark suit with the jacket unbuttoned. Thin white lines ran up and down, left to right, creating checks across the fabric. Where you would expect a shirt beneath was only a lacey black piece that went no higher than cupping her breasts.
She did not introduce herself, did not say anything, as the music swelled up behind her. The notes were familiar, but they sat in a key that sparked curiosity from Adora. Lower, slower, and with it came Catra’s whispered voice as she dragged out the dawning words. Then, a hum, building into the first verse.
That was only the beginning.
What began to play was no version of Warriors that Adora had ever heard before. Catra’s tone rounded it perfectly, fitting the song into something beautiful — meaningful. She found a way to make the words strike into Adora’s veins, making her believe in them and what they stood for. While her albums were filled with power, Catra caressed this song with a passion, letting it slip from her like silk.
Adora was awestruck by what she was hearing. The melody came magnificently, almost being a lullaby with how Catra portrayed it. Yet, Adora’s stomach tingled with a giddy joy she’d never experienced before, buried below the magic that the song grew in her. Despite having seen her perform live before, this performance was breathtaking.
No one said anything until after the first chorus, in which Glimmer broke the silence with slow words. “This is so…” She trailed off, falling into a pause that stretched out long enough for Adora to offer her own fitting end. Just in time for Glimmer to find her own.
“Sultry.”
“Strange.”
Their eyes met, both of them snapping around to question each other on their word choice.
“Sultry? That’s your anthem,” Glimmer muttered pointedly, mindful to keep her voice low so not to disrupt the performance.
Adora’s cheeks flushed, a panic rising inside of her, but she stood her ground in defending her thought. “Yeah, and— You can’t deny that she’s owning it. Come on, you have to admit it’s never sounded like this before.”
This — being entertaining, enjoyable, beautiful, artful. Catra continued to build the song further, elevating it and the magical feeling Adora felt in her chest. Glimmer simply raised her eyebrows, but turned her eyes back to the stage, allowing Adora to do the same.
She could see the emotion on Catra’s own face, as if she truly believed in what she was singing, as if it were her own song she had crafted herself. Maybe it was in some ways. She had admitted it herself, every piece of music she had ever created had a piece of Adora inside of it. Now here she stood, singing her anthem, and pouring her heart into every lyric.
Maybe, she had built this version like she had done with every song she’d ever written herself, making sure to add the key ingredients to make it her own.
The idea of it made Adora’s heart flutter.
She stayed silent for the rest of it, appreciating every note as the song built into its crescendo. There was a drop that Adora felt inside her own heart before Catra went into the final chorus, and finally Adora recognised that power she’d heard live herself so many months ago. Catra found her emotion, letting it bleed out of her until the very last word.
It was done, it was supposed to be done.
Until Catra pulled herself back to the mic, whispering down it one more time.
“Hey, Adora… Happy Birthday.”
An applause erupted as the lights fell down, and all Adora felt was breathless.
Catra disappeared from the stage, not bothering to stay for the clapping that felt like a wall behind Adora. She turned her eyes back to her table, suddenly self conscious of how her cheeks burned once seven pairs of eyes were resting on her.
“Well…” Mermista droned. “That was something.”
All Adora could do was nod. Her eyes shifted to Scorpia, expecting to see some knowing glint in her eye, but all she saw was a reflection of her own puzzlement. Despite their friendship, despite the card she had asked Scorpia to pass along for her, Catra had kept this secret hidden from her as well.
“I can’t believe she’s here!” Bow’s excitement bubbled over, his voice almost shaking with it. “At your birthday party! Adora, Adora—” His hand gripped her shoulder, Adora blinking in surprise at the vice-like grip he held onto her with. “You have to introduce me.”
“Me?” she asked. “Why me? Why would I do that?”
“You know her!” He kept going and she could see the sparkles in his eyes. “You were at her show! You talked with her, you were in a car with her!”
“Didn’t you hear what she said on the talk show?” Adora tried to remind him. “We’re not friends. I— I don’t know her that well.”
Any good friend would have tried to make the connection, she thought. Even if it was true that she and Catra didn’t consider themselves friends, she was sure if it was any other celebrity at any other time, Adora would have made the effort to try and introduce Bow to the person he idolised the most. She was instead overcompensating, trying to throw off any suspicion that it could be anything. They weren’t friends, they didn’t know each other, she would not introduce Bow to her like she had any right to.
Bow’s mouth opened, ready to argue something else, but his eyes fixed onto something behind Adora. His eyes somehow got wider, his whole body shaking as he scooted his chair back loudly against the polished floor and got up to his feet.
Adora’s mind only just caught up in time to hear — “Hey, Princess.”
She spun around in her chair, scooting back just a little before Catra came to rest beside her. One hand on the back of Adora’s chair, the other on the back of Glimmer’s. She grinned down at them, glancing around the table at the rest of the company as Adora’s voice struggled as much as Bow’s did.
“Hi,” she eventually got out. “Wh— what are you doing here?”
Catra looked far too smug, far too comfortable, but that’s just how she was. It was how she presented herself at the Princess Prom, how she did so backstage at her concert in front of her band and crew, and even on the talk show that had tried to pull the rug from under her feet. She knew what she was doing, and she was playing her part so well.
Adora only hoped there was more to it underneath.
“Well, I’m not just going to say no when I’m invited to perform the opening song at the birthday party for Princess She-Ra.” Catra scoffed. “Who would be crazy enough to do that?”
Their eyes met, and Adora noted a twinkle in those beautiful heterochromatic eyes of hers.
“That and the pay was really good.”
“Really good pay…” Adora repeated, nodding her head a little. “At a charity event?”
“Oh, yeah.” Catra still seemed quite proud of that point. Still, until she noticed whatever disappointment had melted onto Adora’s features. “Don’t worry, Princess. I promise to double it. Consider it my birthday present to you.”
God, Adora wanted to kiss her right then and there.
Not just for the charitable gift, either. It had been months since they’d seen each other in person, and all Adora wanted to do was embrace her and never let go. She wanted to tell her so many things at once, that it forced her mind to blank on what she could actually say. I’ve missed you. I’m so glad you came. Please stay by my side all evening. None of which found its way out of her mouth.
She hoped that her eyes at least said as much as they bore into Catra’s, unblinking as she memorised each and every tiny detail. For a moment she noticed a softness wash over Catra’s features, but it disappeared again underneath her public mask.
“You’re looking a little starstruck there, Princess.” The tease was soft, and Adora understood what Catra was really reminding her of.
They weren’t actually here alone.
“Sorry,” she uttered, disappointed as she pulled herself back to the present. “Your performance was just… phenomenal.”
“Oh, so you liked it then? I’m honoured.” Catra grinned.
“Well, yeah.” This came from across the table. Both Catra and Adora looked to Mermista, whose usual bored expression had vanished in favour of enthusiasm. “That was, like, the best performance of the anthem I’ve ever heard.”
“And we’ve heard it a lot,” Perfuma chimed in.
“Oh, please,” Catra replied. “If you start telling me that this is the highlight of my career, I’m not sure how I’m meant to top it and carry on.”
“Oh, I’m— I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Bow’s voice squeaked as he tried to control his excitement, but with the way Catra glanced at him with some concern, it clearly did not land very well. “Your music is just— fantastic.”
“Right.” Catra’s eyes looked him up and down for a moment, and then the spell was broken. She stood herself up straight, pulling her hands away from the chairs, and turned her eyes back to Adora.
“I don’t want to be hanging around over your food, so before it arrives…” She bowed her head, smiling softly when she looked back up. “Have a wonderful rest of your evening.”
Adora smiled in a reply, wishing she wouldn’t have to go. But she’s here. Adora could hold onto that for now. While she enjoyed dinner with her friends, she could look forward to finding Catra in the crowd sometime later as she socialised to her Court’s liking.
Amazing, how the night had suddenly turned interesting.
Catra turned herself away, walking back in the direction she came from. Adora watched her go the entire time, vaguely aware of Bow saying something behind her before following after Catra. If she was more in herself, she might have had the thought to stop him, but Adora was lost in her own thoughts.
That was, until she met eyes with Glimmer, whose eyebrows were raised in a fashion Adora had noticed a few times already that evening.
“What?” Adora asked, clueless.
The corners of Glimmer’s lips crept up her cheeks as she scanned Adora’s face, looking for something. Adora knew the moment she found it as Glimmer’s eyes went wide in sudden understanding. Adora was ready to ask what again, only for it to click inside of her head.
“Oh my God…” Glimmer muttered, her smile inescapable while her face went through a journey. Confusion, mixed with shock, overpowered by delight that shifted into exhilaration. Her mouth hung open in disbelief.
Adora shook her head back and forth, suddenly terrified. “No, no.” No, no, what? She’d got it wrong? Because it seemed like she very much hadn’t.
“Paris?!” Glimmer whispered to her, but with the way she bubbled with a chaotic energy, Adora wasn’t sure it had actually been a whisper.
“No, no—” How many times was she going to say that word before she broke? “It’s not what you think—”
But it was exactly what Glimmer was thinking. Whatever Adora had been trying to hide, it hadn’t worked. Glimmer had managed to put all of the pieces together. How much of it, Adora wondered, was written across her face at that very moment? Eyes dreamily gazing after Catra, cheeks warm with something sourced from her heart?
Just how hopelessly obvious was her love bleeding out of her?
Glimmer’s hand suddenly rested over Adora’s, squeezing, giving her the signal — it’s okay, calm.
“Is it good?” she questioned, softening.
Adora’s shoulders relaxed, and her face fell into something sweeter. Brows pressed up in the centre of her face. A smile came with it, her eyes almost watering. “Yeah.” Adora nodded. “Yeah, it’s really good.”
“Okay…” Glimmer pressed her lips together, clearly trying to keep herself quiet. Adora was sure she was going to be hounded with questions at the earliest possible opportunity. If she played tonight well, she could hopefully keep that off for longer than Glimmer was wanting. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thank you,” Adora mouthed back.
Glimmer leaned in, whispering for real now. “You should maybe start thinking about how you’re going to break the news to Bow.”
As if on cue, Bow returned to the table, falling back into his chair with a metaphorical tail between his legs. He looked as though he’d seen a ghost, and Adora was quizzically wondering what on earth had happened between him and Catra to garner that conclusion.
“Bow?” Adora asked, pulling her hand from Glimmer’s to take his. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” he mumbled. Adora was not convinced. He seemed to come back to them, eyes no longer distant as he glanced around the table before settling on Glimmer. “Yeah, she’s just…”
“Scary?” Adora offered.
“No,” Bow shook his head, turning to Adora. “No, no. She’s so nice. Everyone always says never to meet your heroes but she was so charming, and her ears did the cutest thing, and she even unblocked my updates account on Twitter!”
Yeah, Glimmer was right. Adora would have to prepare for the day she broke the news to Bow.
That could wait for another night.
* * *
The rest of the party was far more enjoyable than Adora had originally thought. While meeting some of the guests had been as boring and tedious as Princess Prom, Adora had found herself in the company of people that were far more tolerable this time around. She had the opportunity to speak more about what she wanted — in this case, it being the charity organisations she was backing tonight. She warmed to those who were interested in what she had to say, who showed genuine interest in helping her cause and supporting further, and kept mental notes of the people she was sure she would enjoy talking to at the next event.
And when not held in conversation with them, Adora had found herself on the dance floor, switching between partners with every song. Bow had taken her for the first dance, twirling her around the dancefloor until she felt dizzy. Perfuma had stolen her next, nonstop talking about the wonderful feelings she had for the Princess Scorpia she’d been sat with all through dinner. Sea Hawk had been terribly disappointed that he’d taken her hand for a song with a slow melody, but his lively soul had kept to his promise and waltzed with her nonetheless.
As the music slowed to a stop, they stepped back from each other with a clap to the musicians. It was then, once she was parted from Sea Hawk, that she’d spotted a certain face watching her from the crowd. In the hours that had passed, Adora had controlled herself. She’d kept herself from thinking too much about the surprise guest of the evening, telling herself to afford the respect to the rest of her guests that they gave her.
Once that reminder was there, lurking on the edges of the dance floor, Adora had decided she’d held herself back long enough.
And it seemed to be now or never, as the guest slipped away into the crowd.
“Excuse me,” Adora said to Sea Hawk with a small bow of the head.
“Of course,” he returned, a deeper bow in his upper half, arms crossed over his front while the other hooked behind his back. “A pleasure as always, lovely Adora.”
She didn’t feel bad leaving him on the dance floor — he would surely find himself in the company of Mermista, wherever she may be. As she reached the edge of the open space the crowd allowed her to pass through the wall of bodies until she was able to freely walk. Her eyes darted around, trying to spot where she might have gone. It shouldn’t be too hard with those distinctive features of hers, but she seemed to have stealthed herself away before Adora even had the chance to follow.
Please don’t leave, she thought to herself as she began to walk through the room.
Her head kept swivelling around, hoping to see a tail hiding behind something, like one of those Where’s Waldo? books. Adora headed towards the open doors that’d lead into the entrance way, hoping that she’d perhaps headed towards the bathroom rather than outright leave. As she neared the door, a chill had her automatically looking towards the source — open doors out onto a veranda. It was dark, freezing in the winter cold, but Adora stopped in her tracks as her eyes landed on a figure leaning against the railing, bathed in the light from inside.
Her tail swayed by her legs, the tip curling and uncurling, rhythmic in its movement.
Adora stepped outside, the cold hitting her instantly. She had no idea how Catra could stand it with that lace undertop being the only thing protecting her front. Her ears flicked, a telltale sign that Catra could hear her approach. It eased Adora as she invited herself to step up behind her, pressing into Catra’s back as she wrapped her arms around her.
“Hey, Princess.” Her voice was low, and she turned her face just a little to peer at Adora’s resting on her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“I came to find you.” She tightened her arms around Catra’s middle and pressed her face into the crook of Catra’s neck. She smelled amazing tonight. Whatever cologne she’d chosen for the occasion was working wonders for Adora, and it took everything in her not to start pressing kisses against her skin.
“Mhmm,” Catra hummed. Adora felt it vibrate through her. “Does that mean you have to stand so close?”
“It’s cold,” Adora informed her. The veranda spared this space from being covered in snow, but it did nothing to stop the chill that was brought with it blanketing the streets of New York below. “I thought I should warm you up.”
One of Catra’s hands rested on top of Adora’s, her own touch warm. “I thought we were supposed to be keeping our distance?” Despite her words, Adora felt Catra’s tail wrap around one of her legs.
“They won’t notice if we’re out here.” It was a flimsy excuse, and even Adora knew it. Her want had her clinging to Catra, to make up for lost time. Her sensibilities, however, left her stomach flipping. If they notice—
“Adora.” She began to twist herself around, and so Adora loosened her grip to give her the ability to do so. Catra was then pressed between her and the railing, blue and amber staring into her. “Be honest with yourself.”
It was frustrating when Catra was sensible. Adora was supposed to be the sensible one, or at least that’s what so many outside perspectives thought of them when they were younger. She couldn’t even be angry with her for it now. Catra was simply trying to protect her, protect the boundaries she’d set up so her life wouldn’t collapse in on itself. It was considerate. It was sweet. It only made Adora want to kiss her even more.
“Dance with me,” she invited before she could stop herself. “They won’t question it if we’re dancing together.”
Catra’s hands rested on her arms, struggling to fit anywhere else. At least she used the contact to rub soothingly. Adora absently leaned in, pressing Catra into the railing to compensate.
Catra exhaled. Adora wasn’t sure whether to describe it as a sigh or a groan, but it rumbled nonetheless at the back of her throat. Perhaps it was neither. Perhaps it was something else.
“Who would I be to turn down the Princess She-Ra on her birthday?” Catra returned.
“Tell me right now you haven’t been wanting to all night,” Adora dared.
Catra rolled her eyes. “You’re such an idiot.” But she pressed her hands into Adora, pushing her back to free herself from her imprisonment against the railing. “Come on, then. I’m cold.”
Adora suppressed her smile — or at least, kept it from growing too dorky. Automatically she reached out for Catra’s hand, but thought better of it. Catra was right, she had to be honest with herself. Their judgement would only ruin what Adora wanted to be a pleasant night, and she was wanting to avoid the fallout for as long as possible. Being careless would only get them both hurt, and Adora wasn’t ready to face those consequences. It all felt so new still.
Yet, it was heartbreaking to note how Catra’s eyes had followed her hand, how she watched Adora change her mind mid-thought and pulled herself back. It was still heartbreaking as she rolled her eyes away, fighting back any expression from forming on her face.
Adora wanted to question it, but they had somewhere to be.
She walked her way back inside, aware of Catra following behind her. A round of applause welcomed them back into the room as a piece of music finished, making room for the next. She spotted Glimmer and Bow walking onto the dance floor, along with so many other couples, and stepped into each other’s arms as the first music notes played out. Adora and Catra were late, but that was hardly an issue as Adora made her way onto the polished floor.
Once she turned, she was expecting to see Catra still hanging back. Still being cautious. Instead, a hand was immediately on her hip, slipping around her back for control. Adora almost gasped as she was pulled in close — their hips pressed together, Catra’s hands resting on her waist.
Catra began to sway — it was hardly dancing, but they both knew that wasn’t why they were really here.
With nothing else to do, Adora hooked her arms over Catra’s shoulders. Their faces were barely apart, eyes unfocused as she tried to look into Catra’s. Eventually, it became easier to look somewhere over her shoulder instead, allowing her to speak into Catra’s ear.
Whispering secrets right before their eyes.
“Thank you for coming,” she started, letting her cheeks turn rosy. No one would question it, hopefully. “It was a lovely surprise.”
“Oh, you know me, I’m full of surprises.” Catra chuckled, keeping her voice just as quiet as she whispered back. “Wish it had been my idea though.”
“Who invited you?”
“Galen.”
That pulled a laugh from Adora, louder than she reasonably wanted. The louder she was, the more attention she would draw. Idealistically, she wished they were invisible on the dance floor. If only they had such means.
“Galen invited you?” Is what she said when she finally had some control over her breath.
“What? He’s turning into a big fan, you know.”
“A big fan?”
“Mhmm.” The hum was amused. Adora could picture the look that must have been decorating Catra’s face. “He was at my closing London show.”
For some reason that panged through Adora’s chest — a single dart piercing through, rippling out a wake to spread its disruption. “He was?”
“Without his granddaughter, I should point out. I think he secretly wanted me here for himself, but he seemed really determined to make sure us meeting wasn’t a one time thing. Little did he know that only a week before, I’d been in your pants.”
“Catra,” Adora warned. Sure, they were whispering, but she was pretty sure there was still a line they had to draw.
Catra chuckled into her ear, devilish in nature. The sound once again elevated Adora’s desire to kiss her. How many times would she feel that way before she’d finally find her way to those lips?
“I should have been there,” Adora muttered. She tried to think of why she hadn’t bothered travelling to London to see Catra while she was there, before she returned to the United States with her tour complete. It had been silly of her.
“Don’t get hung up on that,” Catra assured her. Her hands moved from their spot on her hips, hooking behind her back instead. “We left really early the next day. It wouldn’t have been the same.”
The same. Adora wondered if Catra had thought about that night as much as she had. If she’d dreamed of their kisses, of their hands dancing across skin. Of their sweet talks later, of champagne and chocolate and strawberries. Of waking up in the same bed, limbs tangled together, breaths mingling, feeling like they could stay there for an eternity. Of water trickling over their bodies as they’d embraced in the shower, sharing some intimacy once more before they had to part.
Adora had not stopped dreaming about it since.
Thinking about it now though had Adora’s mind remembering something else. The talk show that she’d watched only earlier that day. It felt like it had been left in the past, but the fear she had felt watching it fluttered across her chest. That was still very real, and it would be unfair of her to ignore it.
She let silence beat between them for a few moments longer, swaying to the music still.
“I watched that talk show you were on,” she eventually said, hoping that would be enough to clue Catra in to what she was thinking.
Catra didn’t say anything at first. Adora almost believed she’d said it so quietly that even Catra’s ears hadn’t picked up on it. That was settled though as she heard Catra exhale. Long and drawn out, and this time it was definitely a sigh.
“I was kind of hoping you didn’t,” she confessed honestly.
It was now that Adora could no longer take not seeing her expression. She pulled herself back, just enough so that they could look upon each other’s faces. While her’s was filled with concern, Catra’s was disheartened.
“That bad?” Adora asked.
Catra shook her head. “No, I just—” She stopped herself, rethinking her words as her eyes flicked around. She didn’t find the confidence to meet Adora’s eyes again until she found what she wanted to say. “I just thought that some of it might have upset you if you watched.”
“Well, it did,” Adora informed her blankly. “You should have warned me.”
“I was kind of gambling on the fact that I didn’t think you watched those kinds of shows,” Catra told her. “Clearly I was wrong.”
“Bow put it on, actually.”
“Your fanboy friend?” That at least had a smile return to her lips. “Seriously, how have you been friends with him this long and not hear any of my music?”
“It was a challenge.”
They fell back into silence, still swaying, still searching each other’s faces. Adora wanted to press her forehead against Catra’s, wanted to bridge that intimacy just a little further, but she knew better than to show that form of affection.
This was killing her.
“Did you mean it?” Her words were whispered, even more so than the words they’d been sharing previously. Frightened of how Catra might answer. “About us not being friends?”
Catra tilted her head slightly, surveying Adora with quizzical eyes. She was searching for something, but Adora was unsure what it might be, and whether or not she found it on Adora’s features. “What else would we be if not friends?”
Her heart skipped with the question, the avoidance of answering her own query by making Adora jump to conclusions. Maybe she was asking because there was nothing they could be other than friends, despite what she had told the nation on television earlier in the week. Maybe, she was asking Adora for reassurance that it was something more.
Catra was so difficult to decipher sometimes.
Of course, Adora wanted it to be more. She was aching for it to be more. She couldn’t stop herself from falling down the rabbit hole of those thoughts, of wishing for Catra to be closer every day. That had to be more, whatever that might be. But surely there was still friendship below all of that, was there not? That’s how they had started. That was their baseline.
Unless she had completely ruined that once she’d left, and all that was left was unresolved feelings and tension no seventeen year old would know how to handle. She was older now. She was supposed to be wiser. Adora just felt stuck.
Apparently it was written across her face, as Catra felt the need to nudge her thought process along. “Adora.” The use of her name brought her fully back to the present. “What do you want us to be?”
She knew the answer to that one. It was so obvious when she looked inside, seeing her bleeding heart dripping it over everything. How her skin warmed until it burned until it was suffocating. It felt so strange to be putting a word to it, and she struggled for a few more moments until her enclosed throat finally broke it free.
“Lovers.”
Catra’s reaction was far from what she was expecting, and further still from what she was hoping.
“Wow, Adora, throwing around the L word already? We’re only on our third date.” It came with that teasing tone that Adora was so familiar with, but it didn’t stop the way it pinched at her feelings. Catra seemed to notice the same thing and so she allowed her face to soften once again.
“Well, what do you think we are?” Adora asked, the hurt leaking through the cracks in her words.
She waited, patiently, for Catra to consider her own answer. She broke the eye contact, turning her eyes somewhere down. It didn’t give Adora any more confidence as she waited, and she could feel her heart beating faster inside her chest already.
“I—” Catra’s voice was small, smaller still when she couldn’t even look at Adora. When she dragged her eyes back up, she looked a little lost. “I don’t know. I can’t— put words to feelings.”
“You?” Adora pointed out. “Award winning singer-songwriter?”
That earned her a roll of the eyes.
“Not for this—” She struggled again for a few moments, but then Catra closed her eyes. Adora watched her centre herself, shaking off whatever frustration had been building in her. When she opened her eyes again, she looked a little kinder. “I don’t think there are any words for what I’m feeling for you. Not in this language, anyway.”
Adora felt a smile creep onto her lips — the kind she couldn’t help, the kind that fit into her cheeks and refused to budge. “Can you try another one?”
“Shut up,” Catra chuckled. “I take it back, I don’t like you.”
“Unfortunate,” Adora teased back. She leaned back into Catra’s ear, bringing her voice back down to whisper as quietly as possible. “See, I was kind of hoping that we could spend some more time together this weekend.”
She couldn’t see her face like this, but the way Catra’s arms tightened around her told Adora everything she needed to know. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I want to stay at your place after this.”
Catra pulled herself back, now feeling the need to search Adora’s face for something. All she would find was the pleasant smile still lingering on Adora’s face. If she was surprised by the request, she kept it from her expression.
“Are you ever going to stop inviting yourself over?”
“I don’t want it to just be one night,” Adora professed.
If Catra was going to say anything after that, she was saved by the closing of the song. Around them couples stopped dancing, standing back from each other and clapping once again to thank the musicians for their wonderful performance. Adora and Catra came to a standstill, pausing in each other’s arms before Catra reluctantly pulled herself away. Their eyes stayed connected, unwavering as they created that space between them. The illusion.
Adora already ached to close it again, but she understood Catra. It was time for her to move on, to join someone else in the dance, to speak as necessary with those who wished for her company. At least they had had that short time together.
“A pleasure, Princess.” Catra’s voice shifted with the words, no longer the friendly tease Adora had heard within her. She was back to her public persona, making sure she was not caught out. “I would love to take you up on your offer.”
Before Adora could even allow herself something of a smug grin, Catra spun herself away, disappearing into the crowd once again to be just another guest.
* * *
It was peaceful waking up next to Adora.
Catra wasn’t sure how to explain it beyond that. She felt it most in the drowsy state before her eyes felt like opening. When sleep still resided on the edges of her mind, waking her gently rather than all at once. She felt the presence beside her, which her arm snaked for. A presence like a blackhole, drawing her further in. Her body shuffled closer, pressing into the still sleeping form beneath the blankets. Skin on skin, soft to the touch like flower petals. A shape sculpted by muscles, as if built by old gods. Sometimes she could understand why they all treated her as such. Adora was so precious in everything that she was.
When her eyes flicked open she found herself face to face with her idiot. The room was still dark, sunlight blocked by heavy curtains, but her eyes pierced through the darkness easily. It felt like the first time she’d seen a lack of worry on her features since they were younger. There was always something painting her face, whether it be sadness or weariness or an exhaustion that rested deep inside her bones.
She was beautiful when all of that was relaxed away, leaving behind an innocence Catra did not want to disturb.
With a sigh, Catra’s eyes fluttered shut again, and she sunk into the pillows to stay settled for longer. She was quite happy with a lazy morning, maybe even let the sleep creep back across her mind and doze off. There was no real reason to get out of bed after all.
Or at least she thought there was no real reason, until her ear flicked at the sound of something downstairs.
Catra’s eyes opened once again, and though her eyes sat on Adora, she was fully focused on listening. There was something— far away clatters of movement. An underlying voice, so quiet she could not make out any of the words, but a voice nonetheless.
Who the fuck was inside her house?
Catra rose her head, peering towards the door as if it would give her answers. Nothing came to her still sleepy mind, and thus required some investigating. She glanced back to Adora, who hadn’t moved a muscle since she’d first stirred. Catra wasn’t sure she would at all.
“Adora?” she whispered, her voice like a soft breeze. Nothing. Adora’s breathes were still slow, still deep, still heavy. Catra shifted herself up onto one elbow, now hovering above Adora’s face.
“Adora?” She was quieter this time, breaking the rules of trying to rouse her. Catra still couldn’t do it, wishing to keep her in her peace for as long as possible. With no sign that she was going to wake up soon, Catra felt happy to leave her. Though not without a feather-light kiss to the corner of her mouth — a little see you when you wake up.
It made it easier to sneak around the bedroom when she had eyes like hers. No need for light when she could find her way to the closet without it. Her robe was where she always kept it, just on the inside of the door with the few she had in her collection. Her favourite, however, was the deep red satin. Perhaps because it felt like she was wearing nothing, even when she had to be decent. As she tied the cord around her middle, she had a sudden thought — had Adora brought any clothes with her?
She turned back to where her robes hung and picked out the purple. It had been a gift to her once. That meant it wasn’t a favourite. Barely used, in fact. Maybe it was time she put some use to it.
She folded it neatly on the unit across from the bottom of the bed, hoping that Adora would use some sense when finding it once she woke. It was either this or her suit from the night before, and Catra didn’t think that was breakfast attire. She glanced once more to the sleeping figure before slipping out of the bedroom as quiet as a whisper.
It was bright outside the bedroom, light pouring in the large windows of the upstairs hallway. She was greeted immediately by a black cat brushing up against her feet, demanding attention after spending all night with her company.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Catra said, quiet still, as she reached down to pick her animal companion up. “Am I not allowed to pay attention to anyone other than you?”
She kissed Melog on the top of their head, and made her way downstairs. The closer she got to the source of the sound, the more she could make out. She could hear more clearly the clattering of kitchen utensils being used together, the sizzling of a pan, the voice that was nothing more than the radio news playing through a speaker.
At the bottom of the stairs, in the corridor entryway of her home, she noticed a newspaper had been left with her mail on a side table. Catra grabbed it on her way to the kitchen.
She stepped inside the spacious room. Glass doors at the bottom of the room stepped out into the back garden, allowing plenty of sunlight to stream inside. A small table, usually only used for the likes of breakfast, sat just in front. The kitchen space itself was separated by a divider, with small cupboards and cubby holes decorated with mementos.
Behind the divider, working away on the stove, was a relief.
“Starla,” Catra called out, announcing herself.
She turned around at her name, a bright and cheerful smile stretching across her face at the appearance of her boss. “Catra! Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“Good morning.” It was more like a statement than a real greeting, Catra’s confusion becoming increasingly more apparent. She placed Melog down on the ground as she wandered up to the divider, leaning on the open space. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I was expecting you today.”
Starla’s eyes darted around for a moment. “No, we’ve definitely had this down in the planner for months. You had that party last night, didn’t you?”
Right. It made sense now that she said it. Starla, a paid professional chef, had been working for Catra for years now. It wasn’t every day or anything ridiculous like that, but when her schedule got busy Catra had long ago found it useful to have someone in charge of making sure she was eating right. It was better than late night recording sessions ending in a hungry stomach as she collapsed on the sofa, or digging into takeaway food one night too often.
And that had included gigs. Not concerts, but special appearances on television or any other event. Like performing at the birthday party slash charity event for the Princess She-Ra the night before.
“Right. Sorry, I’m still half asleep.” She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts as she considered what this meant. It would be nothing if it wasn’t for that sleeping person still in her bed. “Could you put some coffee on?”
“You got it,” Starla said as she turned back to her workspace. “Any other requests?”
“Yeah, um…” Catra pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment before pushing herself off the divider, moving to stand by the breakfast table. “Make sure whatever you’re making is for two, and whatever you want for yourself.”
She dropped the newspaper onto the surface, and leaned her hands against it before taking the plunge in glancing at Starla. She had a look on her face — the smug, oh, I see what’s happening look. She knew better than to pry any further than that. “Understood.”
Catra sat herself down, glancing to her other side to look outside in the garden. It was brighter than usual thanks to the snow that covered the green, reflecting more light into the kitchen. Her next words almost came like an afterthought, but Catra knew it was important to say — for Adora’s benefit.
“Starla?” She looked back over to her chef, who also stopped what she was doing to give Catra her full attention. “I know you’re trustworthy as it is, but I need you to promise that anything you see or hear inside this house today is kept inside this house.”
She didn’t hesitate in nodding her affirmation. “Of course. My lips are sealed.”
And Catra knew she could count on that.
The next hour passed somewhat quickly. Catra felt more like herself once she’d gotten some coffee into her, and soon after that some of the food Starla had prepared as well. French toast, a favourite of hers, with an assortment of fruit and a sprinkling of cinnamon. Starla had plenty to chat about, first asking about the party the night before. Catra told her mostly truths, but she left out large omissions of anything too personal. Starla then went into telling Catra how she’d spent her fortnight holiday away with her two older siblings. Things seemed to be going well for them all, which Catra was happy to hear. She’d eventually gotten around to reading the newspaper, flicking through the headlines first before browsing the fluff pieces. She was in the middle of mentally placing numbers into the sudoku puzzle at the back of the paper when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
Catra’s eyes flicked up over the top of the paper, watching from under her brow as Adora awkwardly moved to stand in the doorway. Her hair, still waved from the braid she’d worn the night before, was messy from sleep. She was, thankfully, wearing the purple robe. Fingers tugged on the opposite cuff as she glanced between Catra and her company.
“Morning, Princess,” Catra spoke lazily as she folded the paper over, ready to put it to the side.
At her words, Starla turned with a smile to greet the mysterious sleepover attendee — only to lose all of her confidence once she noticed who it was.
“Princess She-Ra,” she gawked, as if she’d never met a celebrity before.
Alright, maybe this was different from the average popstar.
“Starla,” Catra chimed in, catching her attention again. A reminder of what she’d asked of her earlier, and to not be rude. “Meet Adora. Adora, this is my personal chef Starla. She’s been very kind to make us breakfast today.”
Adora smiled lightly, but it was clear that she was stressing about something. Was it the worry that Starla here knew of what they were now? Probably. Beyond her, it was just their private security, and Catra had hoped it would stay that way for longer. She’d remember to do better with her own staff in the future.
She just wished she could see peace decorating her expression again.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Adora directed towards Starla before moving across the room to join Catra at the table. Her smile managed to melt into something warner once they were sitting together, as if she’d severely missed her in the time they had been sleeping. Catra could only hope she wasn’t confused when she woke up alone — or worse, hurt by it.
“Hi,” Adora said, like a lovesick school kid.
Catra wanted to kiss that stupid smile of hers off of her face.
Instead, she reached across the table, hand held with her palm open. Adora took the hint, holding out her own so Catra could clasp it. “Sorry I didn’t wake you. You looked like you were enjoying your sleep too much.”
“That’s alright,” Adora replied, and she leaned a little more confidently on the table. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long.”
“Not at all.” With the way Catra said it so lovingly, it was enough to fool anyone.
Their attention was caught by Starla after that.
“Are you wanting a cup of coffee… Adora?” The name felt alien in her mouth, Catra practically feeling how much she wanted to use her title rather than her name. She forgot sometimes that the general public only really knew her as She-Ra. Adora to the die hard fanatics, perhaps, but the average person probably only knew it if that question had ever come up in a general knowledge quiz.
“Oh, uh,” Adora looked between them. “Could I actually have some tea, please? Do you have that?”
“I do,” Catra said with a slow nod, a blink accompanying it. “Varying types, if you would prefer.”
“Some green tea and a glass of water would be lovely, thank you.”
“Coming right up!” That was the peppy Starla that Catra knew so well. She got about moving around the kitchen then, getting together a pot of tea for the Princess. Catra didn’t even need to look her way to know she was probably putting her all into being at her best performance.
At least tomorrow they’d be on their own. Until then, they might as well enjoy the good food while it was being offered to them.
“Starla is an amazing chef,” Catra commented. “We’re having French toast but I’m sure if there’s something else you’d prefer, she can oblige. I’ll probably join you either way.”
“Second helpings?” Adora teased.
Catra shrugged her shoulders. “I’m a hungry girl, you should know that.”
“Is that why you need a personal chef?”
“No, no.” Catra shook her head back and forth, just as Starla wandered over with the pot of tea. A teacup and the glass of water was soon to follow, and so Catra let go of Adora’s hand to give her all the mobility she needed to pour herself a cup. “Starla isn’t here every day. Only when I need her most. She takes very good care of me.”
At that, Catra flashed a smile up to Starla as she returned with cup and glass. Cheeky in nature, and it had Starla laughing in return once she caught sight of it.
“Please, someone has to,” she replied before returning to her workstation and the batter she’d prepared earlier.
Catra’s eyes flicked back to Adora, who had yet to touch her teacup. In fact, her cheeks had turned a little rosy, and there was a look in her eye that Catra recognised. If that wasn’t enough to clue her in, she could see the way Adora was nibbling at the inside of her cheek, thinking she was being inconspicuous as her jaw tightened.
Adora wasn’t being subtle either with the way her eyes tracked to Starla, completely oblivious to Catra watching her.
She couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “Adora,” she said, grabbing the attention of the beautiful idiot across the table from her. “Completely platonically.”
Adora’s body seemed to freeze every muscle, scrunching in close at the call out. Her bottom lip wobbled as she struggled to speak. “I— I didn’t say that.”
That. That, being something even Catra hadn’t said out loud, which told her it was exactly what Adora was thinking.
“You didn’t have to,” she replied, smug and enjoying every single moment of this. It might have been cruel to drag it out, but there was just something about the way Adora flustered that had Catra wanting to dig her claws in further. “I can see it written across your face.”
Her cheeks only deepened into their pink, flushed down to her neck.
“I’m not jealous,” Adora finalised, eyebrows poking up with the final word as if it would bring any more truth to the statement. She pulled the teacup towards herself, picking up the teapot afterwards to pour herself a drink. She was careful with it, pressing her fingers to the teapot lid so it would not fall as she eased it upwards.
Catra waited a few seconds to give them pause before jumping in.
“What if I said the name Taylor Swift?”
Adora immediately faltered. She pressed down on the teapot too much, the spout almost flipping the cup. She was lucky she didn’t spill any liquid anywhere. Still, Adora clearly felt it was best to put the teapot down — for the safety of everyone.
Her hands then gripped at the table.
“Mhmm,” Catra noted, perking her eyebrows up with a sly smile. She moved up from her chair, beginning to walk around the table. “Did I ever mention the time I was in a throuple with Ashley Benson and Cara Delevinge?”
“What?” The word was almost choked out of her, and Catra spotted the way her knuckles turned white as she gripped harder to the wooden surface.
“Yeah, I learned pretty quickly I wasn’t into those kinds of dynamics,” she teased. Once she was close enough, a hand reached out to stroke down Adora’s hair. “What about Brie Larson?”
“Oh my God…” Adora rolled her eyes away, determined to look out the window while her face turned a deeper shade of red. Her teeth had returned to biting at her lip, as if it had a chance of distracting her from this.
Catra pulled on Adora’s arm, giving her the opening to straddle Adora’s lap. The free hand went to her back instead, supporting her, while her own arms hooked behind Adora’s head. She tried for about five seconds to keep staring out the window, but eventually she just couldn’t stop herself from looking to Catra, mere centimetres from her face.
“What about the dancer from the Move With Me music video?”
This one came with a fraction of disappointment. “Seriously?”
“What? Can you seriously blame me after the way we were dancing?” Catra seemed quite proud of herself, but that had barely been anything. A post-wrap fling to grind out the tension that had built over the days filming.
Adora was still tense, her jaw clenching and unclenching as she was trying to work through it. Her expression was a mixture of a lot of emotions. She wasn’t entirely hurt by Catra’s words, having no real reason to be, but Catra could see how much it was bothering her that she was pressing those buttons.
Catra leaned in, rubbing her nose against Adora’s. “Relax,” she muttered, whispered between the two of them where her breath touched her lips. “They don’t mean anything to me anymore.”
Adora sighed, and her other hand finally let go of the table to wrap around Catra as well. The muscles were good for something. When Adora wanted to move her, she did so easily with cause and precision. She pulled her in closer, shifting herself forward to make up for the chair in the way. “Sorry,” she said, gentle like a hurt puppy but otherwise genuine.
“That’s alright. I don’t blame you when I’m this good looking.”
Adora was less thrilled by that comment, exhaling loudly in annoyance.
“I’m serious, though,” Catra continued, pulling one of her hands back to her front so she could cup Adora’s cheek. A thumb absently stroked across her skin, trying to sooth her. “I don’t care about them, but you have got to stop being so jealous of the people in my life.”
“I know,” Adora fumbled, and that imperfection told Catra that she meant it. She closed her eyes for a moment, searching herself for something. Catra was expecting anything else from her, but Adora surprised her once their eyes met again. “It just— reminds me of everything I missed. I should have been there.”
“You’re here now,” Catra reminded her. “It doesn’t matter what you missed, you’re here now.”
“Yeah, but—” Adora struggled again, voice hitching, and her eyes turned vulnerable. “I was always jealous. I always wanted it to be me.”
There was a confession in there that pulled at Catra’s heart. A confession along with a confirmation. Adora had always wanted her, like how Catra had always wanted Adora. The mutual feeling between them spanning across years, despite how both felt it would never be.
“It is you,” Catra committed. “They could never compare.”
Their lips met, soft as a promise spoken between them. It was meant to be one.
When Catra pulled away, she did so with her whole body by removing herself from Adora’s lap. “Have your tea. Eat something,” she instructed as she sat back down in her own chair. “We’re going for a bath after this.”
“We are?” Adora questioned, but she was already doing as she was told as she filled the last half of her teacup.
“Mhmm. Starla?” Catra looked over to her side where Starla was working away.
When she glanced over, she did so sheepishly, clearly a little embarrassed she had to overhear any of what just happened. Catra was going to make it worthwhile. “Do you have plans for tonight?”
“Uh… No, nothing important. Why?”
“If you come back later and cook us a wonderful dinner, I’ll give you a triple bonus for the whole day.”
Starla was taken aback, but she found herself smiling a moment later. “For a triple bonus, I’d cancel even important plans.”
“Perfect.” Catra smiled back to Adora, who now seemed to be blushing for other reasons as she sipped at her green tea.
Secretly, she was just happy she could make Adora feel good again.
* * *
Catra had never enjoyed having a lot of bubbles in her bath. They’d always gotten in the way in her experience, annoying her rather than relaxing her. It was probably the one thing missing from her romantic gesture, but Catra couldn’t find it in herself to care.
She sat on the side of the large tub, watching as it filled to the brim. She kept dipping her hand in and out of the water, making sure it was at a temperature she enjoyed — which meant boiling hot. Steam rose from the water, which shimmered with bath oils Catra added as it filled, mixing in with the motion from the tap. If she wasn’t going to have bubbles, she’d at least add some aroma to the water that would seep into their skin.
Once the water had risen to a suitable level, she reached across to turn off the tap. Catra turned, finding Adora sitting on the bench fitted into the wall. She once again had an air of unease around her. Uptight, tense, uncomfortable.
That wasn’t how this was supposed to go.
“C’mere,” Catra said as she stood up. Adora did the same, her eyes barely meeting Catra’s as they met on the floor. Catra didn’t break eye contact once they had it. She realised that what she saw in Adora’s eyes wasn’t discomfort, but something more like lost.
“Relax,” she told her. Anyone would think Adora had never had a bath before with how she stood.
Catra reached for her own robe, pulling the tie free from itself to drop the satin to the ground. Adora’s eyes flicked down for a moment, but didn’t allow herself to stare at Catra’s naked form. Not that she’d care, if she had. They’d seen it all before now. Without asking, she pulled at the tie around Adora’s waist as well, pulling it loose until the sides fell open with the slack. She reached to push it off Adora’s shoulders, surprised when Adora’s hands met hers to help her with the task.
Both free from their decency, Catra took Adora’s hand and led her to the tub. Catra stepped in first, sitting down in the water with grace. Adora followed her, sitting at the opposite end, facing her.
Catra smiled at her. “No.”
Adora looked worried. “What?”
“Closer,” Catra instructed her. The tub was large after all, plenty of space for two people to lounge out freely — but that’s not what she wanted from this. “And turn around.”
That confused Adora, but she did as she was asked. She moved both ways at once, pushing herself forward and spinning around so that she came between Catra’s legs. Catra’s fingers grazed at her waist, telling her to stop once she was close enough. If she was tense before, she was even worse now. Her shoulders held themselves tight, rigid, as if she were standing to attention.
Catra ran her fingers up Adora’s spine, spreading out against her shoulder muscles. “Relax,” she whispered softly to her again. With an audible sigh, Adora did just that. Her whole body deflated with it. Catra rubbed at her shoulder for a few circles, but this wasn’t about giving Adora a massage.
She cupped one hand into the water and brought it up to drip down the back of Adora’s hair. She tensed once again at the sensation, but once her mind caught up to her and understood what was going on, Catra saw her shoulders settle once again. Good. She was learning. Catra dribbled water down her blonde locks once more before reaching behind her, finding a bottle of shampoo from the side of the tub.
She squirted the cream into her hand, placed the bottle to the side again, and sat herself up straight. It was necessary with the few inches Adora had on her. She reached up, rubbing the shampoo into her scalp.
It was a quiet process. Catra lathered the soap into her hair, massaging it deep. Her fingers dragged through strands when she needed it to, and she added more shampoo for the amount of blonde hair Adora seemed to have. One thing Catra did not miss about her own long hair was taming it enough to wash. There were plenty of other reasons to miss it, but this was not one of them.
Catra took her time, taking care of Adora as if she were taking care of herself. Moreso, even. Every touch she felt said more than words ever could, letting it bleed through her muscles and fingers rather than let them slip through her lips. Adora had asked before, had pointed out it shouldn’t be so hard for her when she wrote so much down into songs. That was maybe exactly why she couldn’t do it now. What she’d put into her songs, she’d spread throughout the world. This — this was only between them.
She wanted to show more than say — Catra hoped this was enough.
She only paused in her motions when she noticed Adora’s shoulders move again. For a moment, she believed she’d pulled herself tense, but another second of observation told Catra her assumptions were wrong. Instead, they were slightly shaking. Barely so, but Catra could see it.
Without a word, she reached a soapy hand around Adora until her fingers found her chin. Gently, she coaxed her to turn until their eyes were upon each other.
Adora, lip trembling, had tears streaming down her face.
“Hey,” Catra cooed. She dipped her hand into the water, freeing it of suds so she could wipe the tears from Adora’s cheeks. It didn’t matter that they were just replaced with more water — that wasn’t the point. Wiping away whatever sadness this was was still important. “What are these for?”
“Sorry,” Adora said before releasing a shaky breath, her chest heaving with it. “Sorry, I’m—” Crack. Her voice broke, and more tears streamed down to replace the ones Catra had already wiped away. Of course she did the exact same thing, wiping away both cheeks before cupping her face tenderly.
“Speak to me,” Catra asked of her.
Adora swallowed the lump in her throat, taking another shaky inhale before continuing. “I’m not used to… this.”
Catra nodded shortly, though she kept them small and her voice quiet so not to break Adora’s train of thought. “Yeah.”
When she didn’t say anything more, Adora took the hint to carry on. To let her thoughts bleed out of her. Thoughts — Catra was sure — that Adora had never allowed herself to voice before. “It’s, um. It’s different.” She needed another break as her voice pitched upwards with another wave of emotion, bringing more tears to her eyes with it. She swallowed it back down. “No one’s ever been so… gentle. With me.”
“Shhh,” Catra soothed, and the soapy hand still held on Adora’s hair lowered down to rub at her back again, trying to bring more comfort. “You’re okay, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Adora nodded, trying to press her face closer. For a moment Catra thought it was for a kiss, but instead Adora found a place against her shoulder, leaning herself back against her. Catra didn’t mind that either, but pulled her hand from her face to rub the top of her arm instead.
Adora laid back against her like that, still crying silently as she spoke her heavy words. “For so long, they’ve only ever cared about She-Ra. They never even use my name. They treat me differently, like I’m not even real. I’m not a person, just this… legend. A story. I’m meant to be this powerful force when in reality, I just feel like a girl.”
Catra listened, soaking it all in. It stung for her to hear, to think that Adora had been hurting with all of this for so long. She had been just a girl when they’d taken her, when they’d forced these responsibilities onto her. Catra felt she could understand it. She’d just been a girl when she’d felt her heart ripped from her chest, shredded before her eyes in a pain she never thought would go away.
It was gone now. Left behind was the warmth she felt from Adora’s body, burning through her despite the temperature of the water they sat in. She felt high off of it, intoxicated. She never wanted it to leave her system.
Perhaps she could bring some of that same warmth to Adora now.
Adora shuddered again, and so Catra ran her hand down Adora’s arm, all the way until she found her hand in the water. She pulled it a little closer, interlocking their fingers.
“They’re idiots,” Catra whispered into her ear, lips brushing against her lobe. Her other hand continued to rub at Adora’s back, but ever so gently she introduced her claws for some added pressure. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to give it texture. “They’ll never know who they’re missing out on.”
Adora made a sound that wanted to be a laugh but failed miserably. It was closer to a sob, breaking at the edges, and she pressed her lips together tight to stop any other sound from following it. Catra kissed her shoulder, reminding her that she was there, that what she was feeling at that moment was important.
It wasn’t a relief to hear any of it, but it answered so many questions Catra had of Adora’s life. Some of which she’d guessed from previous conversations, but now she knew. Adora had been honest before, of the hurt she felt, of her emptiness, but she’d always related it back to her feelings for Catra. Nothing beyond that. Yet here she was, creating a narrative that told Catra everything Adora had lived through had broken her spirit down. She’d seen it when they were together, when she was so scared of what they were doing. When she was wanting to be careful. In the few blissful moments where she forgot to care, Catra had seen a reflection of the old Adora she’d fallen for so many years ago. In the hotel room in Paris, on the veranda at the party.
That was the Adora she wanted to hold onto. That was the Adora she wanted to bring back into the world.
“I’m so tired,” she whispered, too fearful of her own words to say them any louder.
Catra had already come to that conclusion. She already understood what this life had moulded Adora into, how it had broken her. If there was one true tragedy of this world, it was how it had ruined its beacon of light. She deserved so much better than that, so much better than they’d ever given her.
“My Adora,” Catra spoke, her tone dripping with affection. She pressed another kiss to her shoulder, though kept her lips on her skin for a few seconds longer. When she broke away, she returned to whispering against her ear. “It’s my turn to worship you.”
They could never do it right. They could not appreciate her for what she really was, nor could they understand what a blessing they had let slip through their fingers. Grubby hands had taken what they wanted, had built themselves a statue in their eye. They did not know her. Not like Catra did. They could not worship what they didn’t preach. They could not worship a god they had stripped of all meaning for profit and for filth.
Catra pulled herself away from Adora, sitting herself back in the water. Adora seemed agitated for a moment, but Catra quickly eased her confusion. “Lie down.” The command was simple, and her hands supported Adora’s back as she did as she was asked, lying herself down between Catra’s legs. Her hair settled into the water, shampoo suds immediately departing from the strands once they came in contact with the surface.
Her hands were gentle as they ran water over her hair. Fingers combed through, making sure she was clearing her hair of any excess. In the slowness of her rhythm, she flicked her eyes to Adora’s face just in front. Adora kept still, kept her eyes closed, and Catra was pleased to see there were no more tears. Her features still did not portray that peace that sleep had brought her, but Catra still had time to work on that.
The process went again with the conditioner, Catra insisting on her gentle worship. Then her hands massaged soap into her muscles, into her skin, delicately touching Adora wherever she could reach. She memorised every inch of her body as she went, remembering how her form was built. She was reminded of where her lips had touched in their intimate moments. This felt similar but so very different. This was a caress of Adora’s very being, letting her know how Catra saw her.
This was what she yearned for — Adora and only Adora, no strings attached.
Once Catra was done, she wrapped an arm around Adora’s middle and pulled her back — until they were flushed together. She leaned herself back, resting against the curve of the tub with Adora resting against her. She had trapped herself there, not daring to let go of Adora, not wanting to break apart.
She needed this — them together, no space between, as one resting beast.
Adora did her best to shift herself against Catra’s clutch, making it possible to look over her shoulder at her. Catra allowed it, if only because she enjoyed seeing her face like this. It was a mix of everything she’d already felt, and now the added bonus of gratitude. That, and a sickeningly sweet gleam in her eye that just made Catra want to devour her.
“I don’t want to give you back,” Catra confessed, her expression surprisingly hardened. She wanted them to know the hurt they’d brought to Adora, wanted them to feel it. A darker part of her wanted to be the one to inflict it. She felt it through her whole body, her fingers digging harder into Adora’s hip, gripping into her flesh.
Adora didn’t care. “Don’t.”
Catra turned her face into Adora’s, kissing her firmly. It was only a taste, but she savoured it still. They both knew this wouldn’t last forever. A few days was nothing compared to the empty months they so often spent apart, but for now if it was all they could have, at least they could pretend it was everything.
* * *
In the evening, once the house was empty of any other presence and they found themselves alone, Catra had taken her to the study upstairs.
The study was a mix of everything that was important to Catra. On one side her guitars were settled into their homes, presented on stands and on wall hangings like they were her pride and joy. A grand piano sat before the window. Behind it against the back wall was a desk, with drawers she knew were filled with paper and notes and unsung lyrics.
On the other side, one wall was filled with books with a fireplace set into the middle of it. It was here that they lounged on a sofa set before the flickering flames. Catra lay, book in hand, with Adora asleep on top. At least she thought she was asleep. After the large dinner they’d had, she did not blame her for drifting off into a peaceful doze. Catra was perfectly happy with it, the weight of Adora resting on her feeling like a comfort more than anything else.
At some point, her eyes had stopped reading. She stared at the inked words on the page but her mind was lost inside her own head. Lost inside memories and unspoken words and feelings that mixed inside of her like a cauldron. She replayed their morning, their afternoon, the easy feeling of them just existing together. She thought back to the previous night, of them dancing together on the ballroom floor and then later between sheets. She thought of Paris, of London, of a long forgotten orphanage in Pennsylvania.
So many memories. So much to sift through.
Catra closed the book in her hands and reached it behind her head to set on the side table. Hands now free, she slipped a finger below Adora’s chin, lifting her head to look at her.
Surprisingly, Adora responded. Her eyes flicked open, as alert as if she hadn’t been asleep. Maybe she hadn’t been, maybe she had just been happy to lay on Catra’s chest, listening to her breathing, her heartbeat.
Catra didn’t say anything. All she had to do was tap a finger against her lips.
Adora’s lips in turn pulled into a smile. Immediately she pulled herself up, sitting on her hands and knees as she hovered herself above Catra to give her a kiss. It was slow, their lips fitting together neatly while Catra’s tongue dared to press forward.
She sighed, content, when it ended. Her eyes opened to find Adora still staring at her, eyes wide with affection and that dorky smile of hers spread over her cheeks. Beautiful. Catra could frame this moment in her head for the next time she sifted through memories. This one could sit pride and centre, only for the way Adora looked giddy with the warm orange glow of the fire flickering against her skin.
“I want you to know,” Catra said, eyes locked with Adora’s the entire time. She wanted her to see the meaning behind her eyes. So that if her words weren’t enough, she could see it down deeper. “I’ve never felt this much love for anything in my life before.”
She didn’t want to say it straight — she didn’t think it would be enough. This still wasn’t enough, not when it felt so much bigger. Not when it felt so much deeper inside of her that her bones cracked with it. She was full of it, overflowing, bursting from her seams and leaking out of her. She shouldn’t have to say it because she thought anyone standing near her should be able to feel it too. How every cell in her body ached for Adora. How she wanted to scream it out of her, unable to keep it contained.
But seeing that dorky smile turn into a dorky grin told Catra that it was the right thing to do — that even if it wasn’t right for her, it was right for Adora. It was what Adora needed to hear, and that was just as important, if not more so.
“Wow,” Adora teased. “Throwing the L word around on our third date? Are you sure?”
Catra rolled her eyes at the mimicked words. “Don’t ruin it.”
She leaned her whole body up, pressing her lips, her tongue, against Adora’s mouth. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she pulled her back down into the sofa, melting into the soft fabric beneath her as Adora engulfed her completely. She let herself drown between them, until all she could comprehend was the body on top of her and the love that poured out where they were joined. There was nothing else in existence but Adora.
This was beautiful. This was perfect. This was everything she had ever wanted.
Notes:
"mel," i hear my mutuals say. "mel, you said it was melog in the last chapter." yes, it was melog in the last chapter. "but there's a melog in this chapter," they continue. my mutuals are right. there is a melog in this chapter. "but that's two different melog's." i said in the previous chapter it was 80's melog. this melog is reboot melog. yes they can coexist. no it was not a self insert.
so for catra its commitment, for adora it's charitable acts. these two idiots are so stupid with their love.
i hope everyone takes the name dropping of celebs in this chapter as the joke it is !! its not to be taken too seriously, i'm not speculating anything, and this is all with a fictional character. its just fun :)
catra's feelings throughout this fic continue to be the most interesting thing, can't wait to see where we go with them next.
also as my big bang artist commented, juliet and starla are going to need to start a support group. thank you for coming to my ted talk.
Chapter 4: and i know fake happy
Summary:
A holiday, an unnecessary amount of fucking, and a conversation no one wants to have
Notes:
chapter title is from fake happy by paramore.
hello everyone !! thanks for being patient through the wait for this chapter. it was a lot of hard work but luckily for you guys, it's also the longest chapter yet (by a long shot). so please enjoy !! i also want to quickly say: to everyone who commented on the previous chapter (and the rest), i have read them all multiple times and i want to thank you. these comments really do mean a lot to authors and going back to read them gave me the boost i needed to write multiple times. i encourage you to leave comments on works you like because they really do go a long way. saying that, i want to be better at replying to them, so i'm going to try my hardest to reply to comments this time around !!
i would like to point out that the chapter count has been updated to 6 so.... plenty more still to come, i promise.
also !!! i got a bunch of art from some wonderful people for previous chapters since the last time i updated (actually two include an outfit from this chapter, teehee) so please go check them out !! one by el (@okokcooool), two and three by pau (@sunflowerpau_), and four by mattie (@mattiedoodles). thank you guys so much for the art, it means so much to me and i love each piece SO MUCH !!!
anyways, lets get onto the chapter :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“You don’t realise it but, one day, this too will be the past
and you will mourn it. You will mourn it.”
— Sue Zhao
“I’ve been lost but I’m here now.
You’re the only person who has ever been able to find me.”
— Patricia Highsmith
MAY, TWENTY-TWENTY,
SALINEAS ISLAND
Adora had never been too good at the whole relaxing thing.
She knew that about herself, but it had never stopped anyone from reminding her every time it came up. Her awkward fidgeting, her inability to sit still, the need to ramble about something so that her mind and her mouth had something to do. It all came back to the same thing — Adora’s constant need of being useful to the people around her.
Which was why it was so surprising that she had found herself sunbathing. The sun beat down a tropical heat, baking her skin through her thick layer of sun cream. The warmth radiated through her body, reaching deep into her muscles. Somewhere in her mind she was mindful of not allowing herself to burn, but that was a problem for Future Adora.
Somewhere down below the terrace was the sound of sea waves crashing into the shore, a constant uneven rhythm that almost lulled Adora to sleep. It would be easy with that comforting warmth, with her eyes closed behind dark sunglasses. Easy to make the mistake of forgetting about where she was, shutting off her mind and just enjoying her presence in the world. The world that moved so slowly when you sat down to observe it. A faint breeze that barely cooled against the sun rustled nearby vegetation, surrounding Adora in a beautiful harmony of nature. Somewhere beyond that was the faint sound of birds calling. Footsteps, bare feet against smooth slab stones, moving closer towards her. A clink of ice against glass, and the sound was enough to make Adora thirst for a cool drink down her throat. When that presence was close, she heard the glass being placed down on the side table not too far from her, the one that sat between her and another lounger.
Oh, had someone decided to sunbathe with her?
Despite her eyes closed and the sunglasses, a shadow passed over her vision. It was gone just as quickly, just as that presence intruded upon her lounger. A knee placed itself next to her leg, a hand on the armrest next to her forearm, and then suddenly strong thighs were straddling her lap. Adora’s eyes opened as the body above her leaned in. The other arm found a resting spot on the back of the lounger, supporting above her as bare skin pressed against bare skin where only swimwear was worn between them.
Before Adora could say anything, the face nuzzled into her neck. Adora turned her head away, giving plenty of space while lips placed soft kisses across her skin. She could feel a tail lightly swaying against her leg, the soft fur almost tickling.
Automatically, Adora found her hands on the hips of her intruder.
“You’re ignoring me,” Catra spoke against her skin, continuing her pecks of kisses.
Adora groaned a little — a mixture of pleasure and sluggishness. “I’m sunbathing,” she commented back, closing her eyes once again from the sun as she indulged in Catra’s pleasant loving.
“Hiding from me,” Catra continued, though moving her lips further up to press just below Adora’s jaw. The tip of her tongue touched first, and Adora felt a pressure in her spine. Like the need for a shiver, but nothing came of it.
“Out in the open space,” Adora pointed out.
“Don’t like me.”
“Annoying.”
“Don’t want me.”
“Attention seeking—”
Adora’s words were interrupted by a gasp as fangs bit into her skin. Another groan, and this one was definitely of pleasure. She hoped no one was nearby to overhear, hoped no one would be around to interrupt them further. Her hands ran down from hips to thighs, digging her fingers into exposed skin.
Catra pressed her tongue between lips against the aching spot of her bite, soothing the mark before continuing with her kisses. She took her time, slow in her movements. Adora could feel her increasing her pressure. Part of her wondered what her neck would look like after this, but most of her didn’t care.
Hands hooked behind thighs to pull them in closer, locking them together. Adora pressed her chest into Catra’s, allowing her to hook her arm behind her shoulder instead of resting against the lounger. Suddenly Adora’s most important need was reducing the space between them down to nothing as that shiver threatened her spine once again. A sigh escaped her, soft against Catra’s ear which flicked in response.
Catra chuckled into her neck, the vibration making Adora’s heart flutter. “Now who’s attention seeking?”
Adora huffed, settling herself back against the lounger again. She could be happy with this lazy session if that’s all Catra was wanting, if she’d just come out here to lie on top of her and decorate her neck with bruises and bite marks. She could be. She wasn’t just telling herself that to be okay with it.
“You’re so mean,” Adora whined, pressing the side of her head into Catra’s. Her hands roamed Catra’s thighs freely, though following along with Catra’s lazy rhythm. Slow and sensual, leisurely.
Catra finally moved her face to Adora’s, noses touching while their lips brushed together. “Oh, totally,” Catra teased. “I don’t like you.”
She took Adora’s bottom lip between her own in a kiss. It ended with a nip, sharp but lacking any real pain. Maybe that’s all this was. One big tease. Like a whisper of what they could have, but never getting to the real thing. Maybe she was poking, dragging this out for as long as possible until Adora felt like she had to do something about it. That’s what you get for ignoring me, she could practically hear Catra saying to her.
Adora wasn’t going to give into it — yet.
“Prove it,” Adora muttered. “Kiss me again.”
The hand from the armrest moved to her chin, fingers spread down the untouched side of her neck. Adora could feel her pulse beating against the pad of a finger, and a thumb pressing into the ridge of her jaw. It propped her up in a specific position, where it felt like Catra was towering over her.
“I hate you so much,” Catra teased.
With that, she sunk her teeth back into Adora’s neck. A moan hitched in her throat as her hips rolled up into Catra’s that pinned her down. Her mouth continued it’s pleasing work against her skin, making sure to leave her signature while the hand at her jaw kept Adora from pulling away. Not that Adora wanted to. Not when she wanted them to be closer still.
The shrill sound of her phone ringing broke whatever spell Adora was under. Her breath stilled as she remembered the gadget’s existence, sitting on the table beside that cool glass Catra had forgotten about. It was her deepest desire to ignore it, but Adora knew she couldn’t. The reason she had it lying so close was for the important reason of her duties, even if she was on vacation.
Catra did not remove herself from Adora’s neck, nor did she say anything about the ringing. Adora let it go for two more annoying buzzes before she reached blindly across, answering the call as she pulled the device to her ear.
“This better be important,” she snapped down the phone, her voice irritated from the disruption, but otherwise normal.
“Princess She-Ra,” spoke a voice on the other end. It was familiar, in the sense that it tingled the very edges of Adora’s mind. She couldn’t help frowning in response as she tried to place it in her memories, and her hope for this being a short phone call dwindled. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you at this time, but— I’m Sorcerer Norwyn of Mystacor, if you may remember me?”
The lightbulb flicked on inside her head. “Norwyn. Of course I remember. I’m sorry for being so short with you.” Her eyes flicked upwards in thought, suddenly having a very terrible feeling about what this conversation might be about. “How may I help you?”
“No apologies necessary, your Grace.” The voice on the other end of the connection seemed light as ever, unoffended in how Adora had answered the call. That she could appreciate. “I’ve been speaking with the advisors of the Eternian Court recently and I believe we have a lot to discuss.”
“Do we now?” Adora poised the question. How interesting. With Catra still kissing at her neck, ignoring the call still, Adora realised she was going to have to prompt her. Her fingers tapped at the small of her back, a wordless we have to move. Catra did not stop. “About what, may I ask?”
“The Heart of Etheria Project.”
Adora wished she had context for any of those words.
“Oh?” was all Adora could ask down the phone. She tapped at Catra’s back again, which earned her another nip below her jaw. She took the hint, but that did not mean she wasn’t going to get her way. She hoisted herself up, anchoring herself with her elbows as her knees slid themselves under Catra’s thighs. When she had an angle, she twisted her body around to plant her feet on the ground. Catra was still straddling her, still clinging around her shoulders with one arm.
She was going to have to cling a little harder than that.
As she moved, Norwyn carried on. “I’ve been studying the runestones for months now and I believe we have finally found a solution, and that is where you come in.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, Norwyn.” She wrapped her free arm around Catra’s waist, pulling her close so she held onto her tight. Catra seemed to finally get it. Her other arm wrapped around Adora in return, and her knees gripped onto her hips. Adora leaned herself forward, pushing into her leg muscles as her feet spread wide, and lifted the two of them off the lounger. Catra, as soon as she could, hooked her legs around Adora’s hips as well. Adora repositioned her arm, and that was all that she needed as she turned to walk back towards the holiday villa.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adora continued. “I haven’t been informed about the Heart of Etheria Project.”
“Have you not? Oh, I am sorry to hear that, your Grace, I was under the impression you knew.”
The implication that her Court was keeping things from her had Adora deepening her frown as she followed the path from the terrace through a landscaped garden. She was surrounded on both sides by native plantlife, giving her the impression of being in the wilds before the open sliding glass doors came into view. She could already hear the sounds of discussions inside. Good, they weren’t too far away then.
“Nevermind, I can catch you up to speed,” Norwyn pushed on as Adora stepped inside. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the light changes. Bow and Glimmer were close by, standing around the kitchen island, each holding a glass of a mysterious drink. Perhaps the same that Catra had brought outside with her? Glimmer was in the middle of making a larger jug of the stuff. Bow caught Adora’s eyes first, smiling at her in greeting. The moment he registered her expression however, and the nod of her head that said follow, he became a little more reserved. “Would you at all be interested in meeting with me in Mystacor? Perhaps it would be best if we discuss this in person.”
“I think that would be wise.” Walking through the open living space, Adora caught sight of Mermista and Sea Hawk conversing on one of the sofas. She didn’t bother trying to signal to them, knowing that they’d get the message in a moment or so once she made her move. She stepped towards the large dinner table, placing Catra down on the surface. This time Catra didn’t have to be prompted and she pulled her lips away from Adora’s neck. She looked curious, but in the way she might if she were debating whether to bring out her claws or not, and leaned back onto her arms as she watched Adora.
Adora switched her phone to speaker, placed the device down on the table, and leaned on one hand beside it.
“However, I am curious to know what exactly this is concerning, could you please fill me in?”
Bow and Glimmer joined them, standing on the other side of the table, while Adora noticed Mermista and Sea Hawk jumping up from their seat to wander over. They knew to stay quiet, if not by the fact she’d secretly put the phone to loudspeaker, but by the pissed off expression resting on her face.
“Oh, of course!” His voice rang out from the phone. Adora noted the curious looks all of her friends gave her before shifting back to watching the phone. Catra was the only one who didn’t bother looking at the phone at all, instead keeping her eyes on Adora the entire time. “Light Hope informed me you understood we were looking into changes for the magical courts concerning their access to the runestones.”
A conversation from a night long ago floated to the surface of her mind. A conversation that had been haunting Adora for all those daunting months. Though she’d found herself preoccupied by other things — mainly what sat on the table beside her — every reminder of that conversation had only brought dread.
Now, it felt like it was drowning her, dunking her below the surface before she had a chance to react. Her lungs constricted, her chest felt tight, and her heart picked up its pace. It was an emotion she instantly recognised. Guilt.
It didn’t help that Glimmer and Mermista once again shot her looks, confusion deep in their features. She tried to give them something of a sympathetic exchange, but she worried all she gave off was remorse.
She should have paid more attention. She should have thought about that conversation more, should have questioned it more. She should have spoken about it with them. She should have— Adora could keep going with what she should have done, but in the end it didn’t matter. She had failed them, and all she could do was drop her eyes back down to the phone.
“Yes,” Adora finally said after an extended silence, her voice monotone in it’s formality. “Yes, she did mention that to me.”
Norwyn barreled on, unaware of the unease on the other end. “Good! As I mentioned earlier, I have been studying the magic of the runestones and I think I have figured out the key to harnessing that magic.”
“And what might that be?”
“Well, you!”
Adora’s heart sank, her stomach swallowing it down into a deep pit of uncertainty. She was aware once again of all five sets of eyes being placed on her, but Adora was too scared to meet them, terrified of what she might see there. She could feel a small tremble in her bottom lip, nerves filling up that pit in her stomach, her anxieties eating the insides of her. She didn’t even realise how her whole body trembled until she felt Catra take her hand. Adora allowed herself to glance where their fingers interlocked, Catra squeezing in support. Adora squeezed back.
“Like I said, best we discuss this in person,” Norwyn went on, still positive and continuing as normal. “If you bring the Sword of Protection to Mystacor, I will be able to put my theories to practise and, well, I guess we shall see what happens, shan’t we?”
Adora swallowed down the lump in her throat, trying to mimic her practised appearance. This was just like any other rep carpet, any other televised event, any other journalist interview. She had to play the part well. “Yes, I guess we shall.”
“Have you ever been to Mystacor, your Grace?” He was naturally curious, quizzical in his tone. “I would be thrilled to give you a tour once you arrive, it is beautiful at this time of year.”
“Not for a long time,” she answered honestly. “It will be nice to see it again.”
“I’m sure Mystacor feels the same way,” he chuckled. “I do look forward to working with you, Princess She-Ra. I think we will excel together.”
Those words felt rotten. Like she was being painted with the same brush as all of those that had gone behind her back, behind the backs of the other Princesses. She didn’t want to be credited with any of this, but here he was talking as if they were partners in crime. Adora felt disgusted, her own words sickening as she acted up the pleasantries. At least what she was saying wasn’t technically a lie.
“I’m very interested in seeing your work as well, Norwyn.”
“Grand. It was lovely to speak with you, Princess. Thank you for giving me the honour.”
“Yeah,” Adora answered, dull with a hanging head. “We’ll speak again soon.”
And with that, she hung up the call.
The group stood in silence. It felt heavy in Adora’s ears. It felt as though they were all holding their breath, waiting for someone to make the first move. Adora didn’t want to do it. Shame shadowed her face as she picked her phone back up, quickly flicking through her notifications to see if there was anything important. Anything that might possibly be referencing the conversation she just had. Adora found nothing.
Catra hopped down from her place on the table, pressing herself into Adora’s side. Finally Adora looked up, meeting blue and gold as they stared back at her, wide and wondering. Adora didn’t know what to say to her, but Catra didn’t need it. She pressed the softest of butterfly kisses on Adora’s shoulder, squeezing her hand once again. Adora swallowed the lump in her throat, but she could feel what Catra was telling her wordlessly.
“Well?” Glimmer suddenly spoke up from the other side of the table. Adora could no longer hide herself from them, turning her eyes to look around the group. They were stunned, faces hollow. Bow was the most reserved, while Sea Hawk just looked confused. Mermista’s lips were pursed in a way that made it look as though she were holding back tears. Glimmer on the other hand, who Adora’s eyes fixated on, was only filled with rage.
Adora’s mouth opened, then closed, and then followed suit.
Glimmer rolled her eyes before crossing her arms. “What the hell was that about, Adora?”
Her mouth went faster before her voice broke, barely keeping together enough to make coherent words before they tumbled out of her mouth. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”
“Really? Because it sounded as though you were in on it,” she snapped back. “What was it that he said? You understood they were looking into the Courts? What the hell does that even mean, ‘access to the runestones’? What could they possibly want with the runestones?”
“Harnessing the magic…” Mermista repeated. As Adora looked back to her, she realised she’d read Mermista’s expression wrong. If she were holding back tears, it hadn’t been out of sadness. It was frustration, painted deep into her eyes. “Whatever that is, it can’t be good, and you’re supposed to be the key to it, Adora.”
Adora’s lip went back to its slight shake, her heart thumping so hard inside her chest that it might break out. Her hand squeezed down harder on Catra’s. She was lucky nothing broke under her grip.
“I don’t— I don’t know exactly, okay, I was just playing along to see what he was saying,” Adora went on, her words falling out of her mouth with no grace. She was panicking, she could feel it beneath her skin, but she was trying her hardest to keep herself together — for her friends, if not for anything else. “Whatever this is, the Eternian Court’s been keeping it from me too.”
“She’s not lying,” Catra said by her side before falling back into her silence.
Glimmer huffed in annoyance. “I don’t get it. I don’t get it! The Eternian Court has no say over the runestones besides the one in your sword, Adora, so why would they even come up in their conversations?”
Adora wasn’t going to be able to get out of this without some explanation, and she knew that. She knew the difficulties of this situation, but that’s why she’d wanted them to hear the words from Norwyn’s mouth themselves. It didn’t make the pressure crushing down on her anymore bearable though, and Adora felt her head getting lighter. She reached for the chair to her side and pulled it out, falling into it with a heaviness that exhausted her.
“I don’t know, not really,” she prefaced, but the guilt in her eyes as she looked between the two Princesses probably said more. “But I might have an idea.”
That caught both of their attention, and they both straightened in their posture. It would have been funny if Adora didn’t feel quite so terrible.
“Well?” Glimmer prompted, impatient.
Adora’s eyes glanced down to the table, unable to look at them as she worked herself into it. She felt the movement at her side before Catra’s hand found a place on her shoulder, and it rubbed soothingly at her shoulder blade in the smallest of rotations possible. Adora appreciated it, even if she was unsure whether it was enough or not.
“From what I was told, before,” she started. “I believe they’re trying to figure out a way to control the magic.”
“What?!”
Adora winced as Glimmer’s voice elevated, the sound of it sharp as it echoed against the too close walls, bouncing back at them with little delay. Adora sat up, pulling up her posture as Glimmer barrelled on into her rage.
“Control the magic?! Who the fuck gave them the right to control anything about the runestones?! How do you know about this?”
“Light Hope mentioned something a while ago,” Adora eased in. “I asked if it meant control and she didn’t exactly say no but—”
“So you knew and you didn’t tell us?!”
Adora’s eyes met Glimmer’s, and her heart broke as she saw the fury that sat just beneath the surface. Fury from her best friend that was being directed at her. She’d meant to, in the beginning. Adora really had meant to bring it up to Glimmer. After the conversation with Light Hope, the meeting in Paris, she’d meant to bring it up at some point, but—
But Adora had been distracted, and she felt it just then as a tail wrapped over her arm, still trying to sooth her.
Adora pushed that guilt away. That was a door she wasn’t about to open.
Even if Adora had brought it up before, what would she have said? She hadn’t understood what had been said in French during the meeting, and Light Hope had given her little to work with. What she had imagined hadn’t been this. It hadn’t involved accessing the runestones or harnessing the magic.
But maybe she should have seen that coming after her first conversation with Norwyn.
How had she been so oblivious?
“I didn’t think it would have anything to do with the runestones!” Adora tried. “Light Hope was talking about the public, I thought she was referencing laws or something. I didn’t think they’d be able to be put in place. Not without backlash from the Etherian Courts anyway. I didn’t think they’d do it all under the radar without even mentioning it to me.”
“If they want to harness the magic straight from the runestones to control it,” Mermista interjected before Glimmer could give her mouthful again. “Doesn’t that mean controlling our magic as well?”
Glimmer’s expression fell even further.
“They can’t,” was all she said, but the uncertainty was clear in her voice.
Silence drew out between them. Adora held her breath as she looked between all of her friends. She almost missed the anger as soon as the eerie silence fell over them. She could see Glimmer and Mermista holding each other’s gaze, wordlessly communicating a fear only they would understand. Adora wanted to step between it, to reaffirm that this wasn’t going to happen.
But she couldn’t possibly know that.
Yet, anyway.
A small cough from Bow as he cleared his throat broke the silence and drew everyone’s attention to him. He offered the smallest of smiles once they were all looking. Adora appreciated the small sign of optimism, but it didn’t feel like enough.
“I know this is scary but let’s try not shouting at each other for a moment,” Bow said, looking between everyone before landing his eyes on Glimmer. She pouted, but it only lasted a second before she huffed and deflated.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” Glimmer replied.
“Thank you, Glimmer,” Bow said with the tiniest smile that said I’ll believe it when I see it. He turned back to the rest of the group, but mainly— “Adora?”
She perked up in her chair, leaning into the table to give Bow her full attention. Catra’s hand went with her.
“You said the Eternian Court has been keeping this from you as well.” Adora nodded. “Great. Hopefully what that means is Norwyn spoke to you without their full knowledge, which means we have a head start in knowing what’s going on before they do.”
“I’m not sure that’s how that works—” Mermista started.
“No, no, dear,” Sea Hawk jumped in. “Let him keep talking, the man has a plan.”
“Thank you, Sea Hawk,” Bow said with a nod. “We know what they’re planning, they don’t know we know. It gives us the chance to look for more information under the radar ourselves. We gather up what we can before we go after them, and hopefully we’ll have enough to stop whatever it is they’re planning. This is a good thing.”
“I don’t think any of this is good, Bow,” Glimmer sighed beside him.
“It’s better than not doing anything. We have to try.”
“Bow’s right,” Adora chimed in. She said it with an amount of confidence that surprised even herself. Somehow the nerves inside her stomach had calmed, and she was crediting that to both the work of Catra’s touch and Bow’s careful thoughts. Her mind was already spinning, piecing everything together.
She stood up suddenly, pushing her chair backwards to give her legs the space she needed to bring herself back to the level of her friends. Her hands rested down against the table, planted firm as a plan started to form inside her head.
“First of all, if Norwyn’s theory is correct, they’ll need me to make any of this work. I’m supposed to be this key to whatever they’re planning. I can refuse it. I can stop them before they even try.”
“Probably why they didn’t tell you anything in the first place,” Mermista observed. “They might be working on a way to make sure you can’t say no.”
“Which is why I’m going to meet with Norwyn and find out exactly how he’s planning on harnessing the magic,” Adora went on. “It’ll look like I’m playing along to my Court but I’ll relay all of the information back to you. Glimmer.”
Glimmer snapped to attention, raising her eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Your Aunt Casta— she wouldn’t have known about this and kept it from you and your family, would she?”
“No,” she answered quickly. “No, she would never keep anything like that from us.”
“Which means not all of Mystacor’s Sorcerers know about this plan.”
For the first time through this entire conversation, Glimmer’s eyes lit up. “I can speak with her,” she exclaimed. “Maybe she’ll know something, or know who to talk to. I’ll invite her to Bright Moon so Mystacor don't get suspicious.”
“If you don’t mind,” Mermista jumped in again. “I’d like to come and speak with her too.”
“The more, the merrier,” Glimmer smiled. “Adora? Will you come as well?”
Adora wanted to say yes, but she sadly had to decline with a shake of her head. “No. I should reach out to who I trust within the Court and find out what I can. We can reconvene later with the other Princesses and let them know what’s going on. All of this has to be done carefully so they don’t realise we’re onto them, like Bow said.”
There was a wave of nods around the table, followed by concerned looks shared between the two other couples. Adora looked to her side, to where Catra was still standing beside her. Catra met her stare, but her expression was neutral compared to everyone else. Adora offered her a sheepish smile, a thank you in her eyes for the support she had shown through all of that. Catra blinked slowly in return.
Despite how this afternoon had gone, Adora finally felt some stability. She finally felt like she had a foot in the door for the first time since that conversation at Princess Prom. With a plan forming between her and her friends, something was being done about unease she’d been feeling. She could push back against her controlling Court, sneaking behind her to make decisions she had no idea about. She now had a chance to fix it, and hopefully before it even got started.
It was only going to be possible with the support she had standing around her. At that moment, Adora needed all the help she could get.
* * *
It felt like only days ago that Adora had hung up her clothes in the spacious wardrobes. Felt like— no, it had only been days ago when Adora had arrived with her girlfriend on her arm, excited and giddy at the prospect of freely treating her as such. The holiday was supposed to be a break from everything. From responsibilities and duties, from appearances and image. Most of all she’d looked forward to showing Catra off to her friends, hanging off of her at every given opportunity, existing as a couple around others doing the same.
Those feelings had bubbled inside of her as she’d hung up her clothes, unpacked her belongings to make herself at home for the foreseeable future. All of it suddenly becoming real as they had set up their little holiday life. Too bad it was already being undone.
Adora turned to place another sundress in the large suitcase that sat on the end of the bed. Sitting against the headboard was Catra, dressed in her bed shorts and a very loose tee. She’d changed from her bikini top and shorts some time ago once the sun had finally decided to set. Now she was sitting in silence as she watched Adora’s movements. Adora flashed her another smile as she folded her sundress to fit into the packed suitcase.
“Why does it feel like you’re going to have me pack for you too?” Adora said, attempting to lighten the mood with a small tease.
The tension that lingered was subtle, but Adora could feel it. It sat in Catra’s silence. She’d been quiet ever since the phone call with Norwyn that had interrupted them. As the discussions with the rest of the group carried on into the evening, she’d merely kept her mouth shut throughout. Adora understood why. These politics weren’t anything to do with her, and she probably didn’t feel as though she had the knowledge to place her opinion on the matters. If anything, Adora was surprised she’d stuck around. Their hands had been interlocked the entire time, Catra practically glued to Adora’s side. Every time Adora felt her anxieties skyrocket, Catra was there to squeeze her hand without a word. When she wasn’t squeezing, she was soothingly running her thumb in circles on the back of it, or letting Adora trace shapes on her palm. She was constantly in tune to Adora’s emotions as the group had made further plans, ate some food, and agreed that immediate action was imminent. When they all retired to their rooms to begin the process of packing, Adora couldn’t help but feel a disappointment wash over her.
And through it all, Catra had remained quiet. What had started as an understanding had slowly turned into something riddled with a new anxiety. It wasn’t sharp with panic but rather dull like a thumping ache beneath skin.
Catra did little to ease it this time, merely rolling her head back against the headboard so her chin was raised up. Her eyes stayed on Adora though — they didn’t dare leave her for a second.
Something was bothering her, and she was being too stubborn to admit it out loud.
Adora placed her hands on the side of the suitcase, biting at the inside of her lip as she tried to decipher whatever emotion was peeking through Catra’s expression.
“Okay,” Adora said, keeping her tone as soothing as possible. This wasn’t a confrontation. “What’s wrong?”
Catra snorted and turned her eyes down to her hands that began to fidget. “Do I really have to say it?”
Adora wasn’t going to accept that as an answer. After waiting a beat to see if Catra would say anything else, she pushed herself away from the suitcase and walked her way around the bed. Around to where Catra sat with her legs spread out before her, where she refused to meet Adora’s gaze as she sat on the edge of the mattress. Adora reached out to clasp Catra’s hands, making them still in her lap.
“Talk to me,” she pleaded.
Catra exhaled loudly, rolling her eyes away. Adora could see the tension in her shoulders increase, pulling her body tighter together as what looked like a scowl broke through her practised neutrality.
When her eyes returned to Adora’s, she could see the anguish shining through.
“We just got here,” Catra exclaimed, her voice no longer holding back the disappointment she must have been feeling. The fact that Adora had lingering thoughts about the same thing only forced the words to sink in deeper. The last thing she wanted to be doing was getting off this island. The months leading up to this had dragged on, and Adora had had trouble not bringing it up to Catra in every single one of their phone calls and text conversations. To have all of it ending so suddenly, far too quickly for it to have been a satisfying visit was frustrating deep down. She could only imagine how frustrating it must be for Catra — who had nothing to do with what was going on.
A sigh escaped her as the disappointment etched over her own face. She attempted a small smile, but it was weak where her uncertainty was clear. Catra tried something similar, but it only resulted in her lips pressing together tightly. She was holding something back, but whatever it was was lost behind her eyes. They were only asking to be heard.
Adora reached up to cup Catra’s cheek, and instantly Catra responded by leaning into the touch. Her expression softened, her eyes fluttered shut as Adora stroked a thumb lovingly against her skin, her forefinger lightly scratching just below her ear. She was soaking up what she could get in their truncated time, but Adora was happy to give her as much of it as she possibly could.
“It’ll only be for a short while, okay?” Adora offered her. “A couple of weeks and we can come right back.”
That had Catra opening her eyes again, rolling them so hard that even her head went with the movement. Adora’s hand followed her still, keeping that contact to try and be as nurturing as possible. “The point of coming here now was that we were just making it in time for the monsoon season. That’s going to roll in by ‘a couple of weeks’.”
“Then we can go somewhere else,” Adora was quick to throw out. It maybe came out a little desperately. “Anywhere, I don’t care. I’ll come meet you in New York if I have to. Two weeks, that’s all, and we can be together again.”
Worry still wrote itself into Catra’s features, but she exhaled as her eyes darted around Adora’s face, allowing herself to lose some of the tension in her shoulders. Her own hand raised up to rest over Adora’s, stroking over the back of her hand. It gave Adora that edge of confidence and she lifted her own to caress Catra’s other cheek. She seemed to melt with the touch, though she still looked sad underneath it all.
“Two weeks,” Catra repeated.
“Two weeks,” Adora confirmed.
Catra’s free hand slid over Adora’s neck, pulling her closer. Adora felt like they were in a tangled mess of their limbs, but there was nowhere else she’d rather be. “And then you’ll come and spoil me, right?” Catra prompted once there was no such thing as personal space between them.
“Absolutely,” Adora replied before closing the space to press a kiss to Catra’s lips. Her reaction was immediate, the two of them melting into the tenderness. Adora felt warmth radiate through her body. She’d hold this in her mind for the fortnight she’d be away from Catra. A promise for what she would return to once all of this was over.
When they broke the kiss, their foreheads still leaning together, Adora smiled. “Now. Will you please come and pack your own bag? We can’t have everyone waiting for you.”
Catra groaned, and she fluttered her eyes shut again as she let herself flop onto her side, sprawling onto the duvet covers. “If you’re trying to woo me, Adora, you’re doing it in all of the wrong ways.”
Adora laughed as she lightly smacked Catra’s leg, removing herself from the bed in the process. “I think I’ve been very successful in my woo-ing ways so far. Come on, it’ll go a lot faster if you just get on with it.”
Surprisingly enough, Catra — with another groan — pulled herself from the bed and moved to join Adora at the wardrobe. They worked in unison in their packing, as if they were in their own domestic dance. It was weird how in sync they were, Adora thought at one point, considering they hadn’t had so many chances at domestic. Her last visit to New York for her birthday had been the closest thing to it, and even then they had grown accustomed to it quickly. They fitted together perfectly in her mind, harmonious in their living. Not for the first time was Adora thinking about what they’d be like when they were living together for real. This would be their every day, and she couldn’t think of anything she would rather want.
Eventually she changed into something more practical herself. Her comfortable jeans and a flannel on top. Not just any flannel either, but one that Catra had passed to her from her own luggage. She pulled it on, smirking at Catra as she recognised the garment. She could remember it perfectly well on the floor of the Paris hotel room. Adora wasn’t sure where she preferred it.
“Mine to keep?” she asked hopefully as Catra flattened the collar down.
“For you to remember what you’re missing,” Catra teased back. Fingers touched at Adora’s neck where her skin felt tender, and Adora smiled where she knew the bruises from earlier were painting her. “You brought a surprising lack of comfortable travel clothes.”
“It’s hardly travelling if we’re just going to teleport back,” Adora pointed out. She wrapped her arms around Catra’s waist, holding her to her. Catra slipped her own around Adora’s neck in response. “And it’s really warm here, I didn’t think I would need them.”
“You’re dumb,” Catra said bluntly, which would have hurt from anyone else if Adora didn’t know Catra said it affectionately. “You better not wreck it.”
“It literally already has holes in it. From your claws.”
“Yes? It’s called customisation.”
“Knock, knock,” came a third voice. The couple both looked towards the entrance, seeing the floating head of Bow peeking around the door. He smiled at the pair and Adora couldn’t help the sudden overwhelming urge to cling to Catra harder. Apparently Catra felt the same, as she felt her tail wrap around her leg where Bow would be able to see. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Not at all,” Adora replied at the exact same time as Catra said, “You definitely are.”
Adora pecked a kiss to Catra’s temple as a way to say quit it before turning her attention back to Bow. “What’s up?”
He took that as an invitation to step into the room, leaning his body weight into the door handle as he swung it forward. She could tell his smile wasn’t something she would usually see on him. Bow was a smiley guy, there was no doubt about that, but this was a different brand to his usual smiling at my friends type. This held a gleeful nervousness. She held herself back from pointing it out.
“How’s packing going?” he asked first, opening the conversation lightly.
“Uhh…” Adora had to look over her shared shoulder with Catra at the bags on the bed, both filled to the brim with only a few extra belongings laid out on the bed. “We’re almost done, why?”
“Well,” he started. Stalling. He was dragging this out as much as he possibly could. “Glimmer wants to take you and Mermista back to Bright Moon tonight. Teleporting over. Now, really. She’s organising travel back for Catra herself and Sea Hawk is going to take care of this place before he joins us in Bright Moon.”
“Right.” For some reason it sunk her that this was happening so quickly. Of course it was going to happen quickly, but this was happening quickly. She felt Catra loosen her arms, her tail falling away from her leg. She reluctantly pulled herself away. “Guess I should finish up then.”
“Sorry,” Bow said sheepishly. “She’s just… you know.”
Of course they knew. Glimmer had been on the warpath all day since the phone call, and no one could blame her for that. It was her magic they were planning to steal away after all. Adora tried to imagine how it would feel to find out someone was planning on stealing her own behind her back, but she wasn’t sure her imagination could cut it.
She moved to her bag, shoving in the last of what was on the bed into the sides of the suitcase and into what pockets remained. Catra did her own part, moving into the bathroom to make sure Adora had all of her toiletries, and then around the bed to make sure there were no leftover books or chargers she’d forgotten to take. Finally she was zipping the bag closed and hauling it onto the floor, which left Adora one last thing.
She tried another small smile at Catra, who was standing with her arms crossed only a foot away. “Soon, okay?”
Catra nodded, once. Her expression was back to being something neutral, but Adora noted the disappointment that lingered in her eyes. It broke her heart to see but at least she could relate. “Soon.”
Adora stepped forward, wrapping one arm around Catra’s shoulders while the other held onto her bag. She pulled her in, kissing her forehead. “Miss you already.”
Catra hummed in reply, snuggling into Adora’s neck for a moment to kiss her lightly. It tickled, drawing a chuckle from Adora as she pulled away. At least that brought the smallest of smiles to Catra’s lips as Adora turned to Bow. “Alright, ready to go?”
“Oh, I’m—” Bow stammered, looking between them. “I’m actually staying here tonight as well.”
Adora raised her eyebrows quizzingly. “You are?”
“Yeah, I said I’d keep Catra company while she waits for her flight,” Bow nodded with certainty. “And I was meant to be visiting my dads after this trip anyway so I thought I’d just go now.”
“Oh,” Adora nodded, taking a glance back at Catra with a knowing smile. Catra herself was smirking where she stood, leaning her weight onto one leg in a very sassy looking pose. “You’ll be in good company then, Catra.”
“No kidding,” she agreed as Adora turned away, pulling her bag behind her as she left the room. She heard their voices continuing behind her, and Adora couldn’t help the large grin that took over her face. “Volunteer yourself, did you, fanboy?”
“Oh, it’s— it’s not like that, I promise.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to bite your head off…”
Their voices faded as she moved too far away to listen, rolling the bag into the main living space where Glimmer, Mermista and Sea Hawk were standing in the middle in light conversation. The bags sitting beside them told Adora that they were all ready to go. Something else sunk in her stomach as she realised that this really was it. Her perfect dream of a holiday was coming to an end with a quick getaway.
As soon as Glimmer caught sight of Adora, she beckoned her over with a wave of the hand. Adora felt rushed as she quickened her steps across the floor, coming to a stop by her side with her usual dorky smile.
“Sorry for doing this so late, Adora,” Glimmer said apologetically. She reached for Adora’s free hand and it came with a spark through her nerves. Oh, she means right now, Adora realised. It probably wasn’t going to hit her until they were back home, and all of this would feel like some kind of dream.
“No need to apologise,” Adora promised with a nod of her head. She looked between Glimmer and Mermista, who had already placed her hand on Glimmer’s shoulder in preparation for the jump, leaving Glimmer to hold onto her own bag as well. Looking at them now, they felt like a reflection of Adora’s own emotions. On top was a deep determination, but just beneath was the whirlwind of panic and pleading. This had to work. No matter what, they had to come out on top for this. “We’re going to save the magic. It’s never too late for that.”
The three nodded in solidarity, and with one last breath in, they disappeared.
* * *
THIRTEEN YEARS PREVIOUSLY
At some point in the afternoon, Adora had found herself on the grounds of the orphanage. She was lying back on soft grass, blades tickling at her elbows where her shirt sleeves were rolled up, eyes turned upwards to the deep blue of the sky. There was not a cloud to be seen in its vastness, leaving the sun free reign over the world below. It was warm despite the time, late into the afternoon where the sun had shifted far enough across the sky that it no longer bothered Adora’s eyes to stare upwards. Warm enough that no moisture would seep through the back of her clothes where she laid. Adora thought she could stay there for hours, her mind planted on something far away. The stars, maybe, through the beautiful blue. She absently searched for them despite the sky still being too bright. It was easier to get lost in such a silly task, lost in her own thoughts, barely recognising the world around her until it found a way to remind her.
And oh, how the world knew to grab her attention.
“Hey, idiot.”
Two words, spoken with such fondness that Adora couldn’t help but smile before she’d even pulled her eyes away from the sky. She glanced towards the house, seeing a lopsided image of Catra walking towards her. Still in school uniform, she noticed, but looking as scruffy as ever. Her shirt was only tucked halfway into her trousers — because Catra would dare wear anything else before a skirt — and her striped tie hung loosely from her collar. The most bizarre choice of all was that only her left sleeve was rolled up to her elbow, creating a very unbalanced look upon herself.
Catra was always the type to try and make herself look like an individual, even in a sea of replicas.
Once she was close enough, Catra kicked lightly at Adora’s foot. “What, did you trip or something?”
“Would you believe that I came down here voluntarily?”
“Sounds like you tripped.” Catra smirked. “Wish I could have seen it.”
“I didn’t trip,” Adora defended, and she turned her eyes back up to the sky. “I’m just lying here. Wanting some peace.”
“Wow, then I guess I’m just your worst case scenario,” Catra teased as she stepped into Adora’s vision. Their eyes met, and Adora couldn’t help herself smiling as Catra smirked down at her. There was something cheeky spread across her features, and Adora could only guess as to what she was planning in secret.
“You know, maybe you’d learn a thing or two if you joined me down here. Weaver always says you have a bit of a temper.”
That comment was enough to have Catra recoil. “Ugh, don’t even joke about spewing the same crap she does.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Adora quickly backtracked, but her tone was still sweet and her smile was still honey. “I mean it, though. Lie down. Be one with nature. It’s peaceful.”
She could see Catra debating it in her mind. A corner of her mouth pulled in one direction while her brows knitted together. It seemed like far more deliberation than Adora thought was needed, but eventually Catra rolled her shoulders with a huff.
“Fine, fine.” She quickly disappeared from Adora’s vision as she sat on the ground next to her before lying down completely. They were feet to head beside each other, the space between them feeling like a solid weight as they stared upwards. Adora elected to ignore it.
She could hear the birds in the trees nearby, chirpy in their musical communication. That slight breeze brushed through the leaves, like percussion underneath their singsong voices. If she strained her ears enough, she could even hear the stream just beyond the treeline. They were far from any main roads out here, and further still from civilisation. All that they had was the nature around them.
Secretly, it was a distant dream. To live in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the natural world around them. Adora could see the appeal of it. Of growing her own food, farming her own animals. Chopping her own wood from the forest trees and planting more to take their place. Fishing in the rivers and foraging for mushrooms. It would probably be Catra being the one to cook it all up, but Adora would help wherever she could and doing what Catra asked of her. She thought they’d easily be able to make their own little paradise. Surrounded by nothing but peace.
Her taste of it now was disrupted as Catra huffed out a sigh. “Okay, what’s the issue?”
Adora couldn’t help the frown that creased across her forehead. “What issue?”
“You’re going on about nature and all we’re doing is looking up at the sky. I’m not dumb, Adora, I can tell when something’s bothering you.” She heard a small groan, and soon enough Catra was back in her field of vision as she sat up beside her. One hand patted her on the stomach, and that breach of space made Adora’s body want to jump out of her skin. “So… what’s the issue?”
Adora’s scrunched up features loosened, and in its place crept up a worrying expression that had been plaguing her for the last half of the school day. The reminder of it all had her stomach flipping, and Adora chose to look upwards again into the sky rather than focus on Catra’s face.
“I got called into the guidance counselor's office today,” she said blankly.
“Oh shit, it was your turn?”
“Yes.” Adora exhaled loudly through her nose.
“So? What happened?”
“Nothing. That’s the problem, absolutely nothing happened.” It came out with a harsh annoyance, a stark contrast to the easy-going peace seeking attitude she’d been trying to cling onto. Adora allowed Catra five seconds to say something before she barreled onwards headfirst, letting her grievances spill out of her in rushed and panicked words. “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life after school, Catra, that’s the problem. We have to start planning what colleges we want to go to next year and I have no idea what direction I should start in. And that’s forgetting the fact that I have nothing to my name and probably won’t even be able to afford it.”
It tasted bitter to admit it out loud, but if there was anyone she wanted to talk about this with then it would be Catra. They’d talked about their futures plenty of times in the past. Adora could still remember her first ever wish. I want to be an astronaut. The stars had always called to her heart, her own eyes twinkling with them as she’d stared up into the night sky watching them. Maybe that’s why she was staring up into the sky at that very moment, searching for that familiarity to calm her.
The moon would be peaceful. Maybe she could still convince Catra that they could move up there together.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Adora finalised and her frown had found a way to sit with her worry, turning her expression into an unshiftable scowl.
Catra stayed quiet still, but Adora was all out of steam. She didn’t want to fall back into a tumbling void of words, and so she remained quiet in return. Seconds ticked by before Catra acted. Her hand sneaked under Adora’s t-shirt, instantly causing another spike of panic to jolt through her. Claws brushed against her skin and soon she was soothed by the rhythmic motion of Catra scratching gently down her stomach. Adora tried to allow her muscles to relax with it, but that was easier said than done.
“If you want my honest opinion,” Catra started, leaning against her knee with her free arm propping her head up. “I think you’re overthinking things.”
“Overthinking?” Adora said right back, her tone somewhat accusing.
“Yeah, I think it’s an anxiety thing.”
“I don’t have anxiety!”
“If you say so.” Catra said lazily, punctuating her sentence by digging her claws in just a little before continuing her gentle rhythm. “I mean it though. I think you’re overthinking it. You must have some idea about what you want to do with the rest of your life.”
“For the record, I don’t think it’s wrong to overthink the rest of your life.” Adora shot a glare Catra’s way before turning her eyes back up towards the void of space. She hoped it maybe had the answers for her, that it had heard all her dreams and wishes and could speak them back to her at that moment. When the sky stayed silent, she went digging through her own thoughts.
It was difficult imagining something that was reasonable. With no money to her name, she was going to have to struggle on benefits and working her way through college, and that was only going to hinder her studies. Money troubles aside, there was the issue of even getting in that was a problem all on its own. What if she made a plan and it was ruined at the first step because she wasn’t accepted anywhere? Maybe both of those issues could be solved if she got a scholarship, but she had a better chance of getting that through sports than anything else. That only narrowed down her options, and she’d still have to keep up with both the team and her studies, and whatever side job she was working to keep her fed. The thought of it alone was exhausting.
She’d have to have a degree that was practical. Nothing too out there that it would be useless by the time she made it out of college, four long years in debt. Something that would make her a reasonable amount of money, a stable position in the world. Something that would keep her from ever feeling scared of losing it all. She couldn’t fall back to having nothing. She couldn’t.
So that’s why, when she gave a shrug, the word that came out of her mouth was: “Accounting?”
“Adora, no—” Catra quickly shot down. “Sit up.”
She grabbed at Adora’s hands, attempting to pull her up as Adora pushed with her elbows. Soon enough they were sitting face to face, off centre from each other.
“This isn’t about having a boring nine-to-five job where you blend in with the sheep or whatever,” Catra was quick to jump back in. She said it with such a force, with such a baseline belief that Adora couldn’t help being sucked in. She sounded… passionate, and Adora wasn’t sure she ever really heard Catra being passionate about anything in her life. “I’m asking you right now, if you could have any job in the world, any job, what would it be? Don’t think about how likely it is you’ll get it because everyone has to start somewhere.”
Automatically, Adora started picking at the grass beside her, pulling up blades until they snapped off in chunks, and she dropped them to the side only to do the same again.
“Uh…” She was stalling, and Catra could tell.
Almost immediately, Catra’s hands came to the sides of Adora’s face. She held her in place, forcing their eyes to lock. It was so intense that Adora was too scared to blink.
“Don’t think,” Catra told her. “Just say it.”
And just like that, one word fell out of her mouth. “Vet.”
A smile spread across Catra’s lips. Letting go of Adora’s face, she leaned back, her hands propping her up against the ground behind her. “See, was that so hard?”
Catra’s smug grin was almost enough to persuade her. Almost. Unfortunately, she was beaten by Adora’s uncertainty. “I still don’t know how I’m supposed to get myself into vet school, let alone through it.”
“You’re going to get in, Adora.” She sounded so sure of herself and nonchalant at the same time. “You’re smart. And if you really need it, I’ll help you with your essay. I’ll sell you so well they’ll be begging for you to go to their school.”
That pulled a smile to Adora’s lips — the first in a while. It felt good that Catra believed in her so much, that she would offer to help her get in even when she wasn’t supposed to. She was a good friend. A good person, despite what so many people said about her. Their problem was just that she knew how to stand up for herself.
“And affording it?” she questioned, wondering if Catra really had all the answers and what she might say to that.
“Go back to the counsellor tomorrow, they’ll have some resources to help with that,” Catra told her, and it was actually reasonable advice. No jokes, not this time. Catra was being genuine.
“Well what resources did they give you?”
She hadn’t mentioned it, but Catra had to have already had her meeting with the guidance counsellor. She came before Adora on the register, and that was how these things always played out. Adora had expected to hear something from it the day before but Catra had acted as if she’d only had a normal day of school. Adora had decided not to push — maybe her calculations had been wrong.
But they weren’t, as Catra confirmed for her. “They didn’t give me any resources.”
Adora frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not going to college.”
She swallowed her heart, the beat of it spiking through the middle of her chest as Adora suffered from second-hand panic. “What?”
Catra simply shrugged. “I’m not going to college.”
“Catra—” Adora’s tongue felt too big for her mouth as she almost choked on her words, her brain fumbling to keep up with the muscle. “What— What are you going to do? You don’t have a plan?”
“Oh, I have a plan,” Catra continued, her neutral tone doing little to ease Adora’s sudden worry. It felt like she wasn’t taking her future seriously, that it was all going to be a walk in the park for her. They didn’t have that luxury, not when they were going to be all on their own once they were kicked out of the house. “It just doesn’t involve college.”
“Well, are you going to enlighten me about this plan?”
There it was again — that smug, cheeky spirited grin again that usually came with a warning. The points of her fangs poked over her bottom lip and her eyes lightened up with mischief. Adora felt her cheeks warm.
“I’m going to be a rockstar.”
She looked so proud of herself with her shit-eating grin, her tail flicking behind her in anticipation. Even when Adora looked at her with skepticism, she just broadened her smile. So sure of herself in her wild dream, in her million-to-one chance plan, in her lack of a plan. How did she do it? Was it just confidence?
“Catra…” Adora drawed out, her need for reason eating away at her despite the smile creeping onto her own lips. “Is that seriously what you told the counsellor?”
“Yeah, that’s what I told her,” Catra confirmed. “She wasn’t too happy with it, told me to take it seriously and I said I was being serious. I said ‘just you wait until my name’s up on billboards and you’re still stuck in this boring town.’”
“Oh, yeah, I can see it now.” Adora said with a roll of her eyes, but she couldn’t help the dreamy expression on her face. “C’yra D'riluth in huge glowing letters all over the world. L.A., New York, London, Paris—”
“Uh,” Catra scoffed, interrupting Adora with a crease in her brow. Her words came with an underlying offended tone. “I’m not using my full name as a stage name.”
“Why not? It’s unique!”
“Yeah, it’s too unique. It’s weird to spell and no one’s going to know how to pronounce it. You want a name that people are going to catch onto quickly, otherwise you just become forgettable.”
“Okay…” Adora tilted her head, quizzically watching Catra’s features and trying to decipher her. “So what name will you use?”
Another shrug. “Catra, probably.”
That pulled a laugh from Adora, her head falling backwards while her eyes crinkled up. Catra wasn’t even offended by it, just smiling as she watched Adora recover enough to say, “You’re not using your silly childhood nickname for a stage name.”
“Why not?” she challenged. “It’s not silly, it’s my preferred name. And all the biggest artists in the world only use single names! Madonna, Beyonce—”
“You think Catra is a Madonna or a Beyonce?”
“Yes!” She was grinning again, enthusiastically standing her ground on her clearly well thought out rockstar plan. Adora wanted to argue with her to be serious, that they couldn’t live on ridiculous dreams once they moved into an apartment together, but at that moment in time Catra had more of a plan on paper than Adora did for her future. She had no room to talk.
“I swear,” Catra went on. “I’m going to make it big, get filthy rich, and we’re going to be comfortable for the rest of our lives. I’ll even pay your way through vet school, whatever you need. And if you change your mind, I’ll pay for that too. Anything. Everything.”
“You’d do that?” Adora asked.
There was a silent moment as Catra inhaled. Her chest inflated with her, her shoulders rising, and her eyes bore into Adora’s with a determination. No— a certainty. Maybe they were the same thing, but Catra spoke as if all of her words were already true.
“I want us to have the world.”
And that was it. She spoke so big that Adora couldn’t help but fall into her optimism. She wanted to believe everything she had just said, that all of their future problems could be solved so easily with a wish from a fairytale. Maybe for today she could.
Her eyes flicked towards the house, darting over the windows as she searched for any signs of movement. When Adora was happy that they weren’t being watched, she leaned across Catra to press their lips together. The kiss was soft, a seal of the deal that Catra was promising for the both of them. A thank you, though Adora wasn’t sure what she was thanking Catra for. Being herself, perhaps. Being everything that she was — the bright, illuminating light that made Adora’s world feel so much warmer.
Words tickled at the back of Adora’s mind before fluttering across her chest. I lov—
The kiss was broken as Catra looked over her shoulder, back towards the daunting house. “What are you doing? Someone might see.” She demanded in muttered words, keeping her voice low like someone suddenly might be able to hear them.
Adora was breathless, her whole face warm as she watched Catra with glazed eyes. Even as she turned back to face her, a fear lurking in her own mismatched eyes, Adora couldn’t find it in her to ground herself. She was lost in those words that had tightened around her chest, squeezing her until her blood thumped loudly in her ears.
Her heartbeat so loud in her ears, she was worried Catra would be able to hear it too.
“You, um…” Adora muttered back, trying to pull herself back into focus. Her tongue landed on the joke as second nature, falling into their routine. “You were the one with your hand up my shirt.”
“That’s not necessarily gay, Adora,” Catra snapped back. She pushed herself up onto her feet, wiping herself down from grass or dirt that might have clung to the fabric of her trousers. Adora was still lost in herself when two clawed hands were held out in front of her face.
“Come on,” she commanded. “I’m sure Weaver’s got something for us to do and I’d rather not be degraded for not knowing.”
She didn’t want to go back. Living inside a home while she kept their secret close to her chest, living in fear that any indulgence in it would only bring them punishment. She didn’t want to be scared of her own feelings. She didn’t want to forget those words before she’d had the chance to say them out loud, and she didn’t want to live with them alone.
She wanted to be where Catra promised — whether it be in some shitty apartment like she was expecting or comfortable in their luxury and riches, as long as they were free to be themselves
It didn’t matter as long as they were together, right?
Right.
Grounded. Adora’s eyes pulled back into focus, and she looked from Catra’s hands up to her face. The mismatched eyes were still on her, concern peeking through as she watched Adora settle into her own body again. She smiled up at her and took both hands, hoisting herself up to her feet.
As they turned to walk back to the house, Adora slung her arm around Catra’s shoulders, just as any pair of friends would. “So, what royalties do I get for coming up with your awesome rockstar stage name?”
Adora didn’t need to be looking at Catra’s face to feel the roll of her eyes. “I just said I’d pay for vet school for you, is that not enough?”
“Absolutely not, that one should be a given. You said it yourself! It’s catchy, it’s going to shoot your career to the moon.”
“If I get anywhere it’s going to be because of my talent, not because of you.”
“Come on, Catra.” Adora squeezed her shoulder. “At least thank me in a speech or something.”
“You’re such a fucking dork.”
* * *
New Message from 🖤:
Bad news. New meeting scheduled next week, can’t make it tomorrow. I’ll fly over afterwards ASAP.
The notification sat untouched. It lingered beneath the black mirror of Catra’s phone, purposefully ignored as she went about her evening plans. It felt rude to interrupt them — telling herself that one minute spent typing on her phone would be impolite to her company, when in reality she was using any excuse to ignore the device in her pocket. It was heavy. A weight pulling her down, demanding her attention while she tried to focus her mind elsewhere. The attempt felt thoroughly unsuccessful.
The night plans had sounded like a good idea to Catra at first. When her phone pinged with a message from Scorpia, Catra had let herself feel something of excitement. Even when she prefaced the invitation that she was just “passing through” and could only do the one night, Catra was ready to allow herself a good one. A night to let it all strip away, to find herself elsewhere with different company that she was only treated to a few times a year. That was the difficulty of having a best friend live on the other side of the country.
As soon as the text message from Adora had come through on their way to the club, Catra couldn’t help but have second thoughts.
It had been eating away at her since, as they sat in the private room with drinks spread across the table before them. Far more alcohol than two people reasonably should be having, but Scorpia had been quick to take the night in the direction she’d been hoping for. She was giddy, ecstatic to finally have Catra to herself, and that was made clear by the shots upon shots that she was having brought to the table. Vodka, tequila with all the extras, and then the horrendous concoctions of popcorn and bubblegum flavoured liqueurs. Catra felt like a teenager, if it wasn’t for the boiling pot of unkempt emotions making her feel ill in the stomach. Actually, that sounded familiar to how her young days drinking weird cocktails went.
And still over the same damn girl.
Still feeling an unresolved aggravation towards her, still feeling bitter. It pooled in the pit, deep inside her core where every unfair feeling and thought ended up, concentrated into a tumour of everything she hated about herself. Catra hated how the two weeks since she’d last seen Adora had disintegrated into her old feelings of resentment, her thoughts poisoned with anger every morning she woke up. Catra hated seeing the empty bed beside her, hated eating alone, hated that she managed to go a full day without speaking a single word out loud due to her selfishness. She hated that most of all — hated that the moment she couldn’t have Adora, she’d fallen into the plea of but she’s mine.
It was suffocating, clenching around her throat while that acidic pool ate at her insides. Worst of all was the guilt. The last ingredient that made the cocktail of emotions inside of her burn like greek fire. Hatred was easy when you didn’t care, but this… This sliced her heart five times over until all she felt was the pain of it. The only thing that sounded like it might help were the drinks sitting before her.
Catra knocked back a shot of vodka, grimacing at the burn, and once again tried to flush every thought that belonged to herself out of her mind by listening to whatever nonsense Scorpia had to say.
If only she could be talking about anything else.
“You know, I really thought Perfuma was just pitying me at Princess Prom,” Scorpia spoke, continuing her own line of thought with little interruption. The topic of conversation hadn’t shifted from Perfuma since they’d arrived. Catra had been quick to hone into what was giving Scorpia the energy that she had that evening. A crush, she’d realised, and as soon as she poked at it the flood gates had opened and poured. It was all Scorpia could talk about with flushed cheeks and a twinkle in her eye. “What with me being a bit of an outcast and all. I thought she was just being nice but then she was just as lovely at She-Ra’s birthday and, well, I don’t think she would have spent so much time with me if she didn’t want to.”
Catra watched Scorpia across the table. She was thankful that the thumping music of the club was kept at a low level within the private room, allowing them to speak without having to shout across the small space or sit far too close to each other. Catra was pretty sure she’d feel the need to claw her own skin off if she had to touch someone at that moment. It left plenty of space between them, plenty of space for Catra to read Scorpia’s body language in its entirety.
Scorpia couldn’t keep still, she’d noticed. One leg jiggled while her claws kept finding something to do. Whether it was neaten up the empty shot glasses in front of her or readjusting her dress. Her cheeks were still bright red with blush — that or it was just the alcohol warming her up, working its magic. She’d caught feelings, and she caught them bad, and Catra could only hope her friend wouldn’t be left broken hearted.
Much like herself.
“I’m sorry for abandoning you at the party,” Scorpia quickly went on at the reminder of the event. “We just ended up talking for hours, I completely lost track of time.”
“Abandoning me?” Catra parroted, followed by a small shake of her head. “You didn’t even know I was going, I wasn’t expecting you to spend the whole night with me.”
“Well I did at Princess Prom! I invited you myself!”
Catra rolled her eyes. Trust Scorpia to find something to be guilty over because she had found herself in good conversation. It wasn’t like Catra hadn’t found something to do with her own time, and what a something it was. Her mind flashed back to that night for just a moment, but a moment was all she needed to feel her stomach twist up into something painful again.
Not the place to go, it was time for another shot.
“It’s hardly abandonment to speak with other Princesses. Isn’t that what you lot do at these things anyway? Keep up appearances for appearances sake?” She tried her hardest to keep the bitterness out of her tone but it proved to be difficult on the last two words. Catra bit at the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to pay attention to the drinks rather than anything else. Another shot of vodka, but maybe the last. Whatever, if it got her buzzed, if it got her mind foggy and lost in something else, then it was all worth it.
Fuck, this was difficult.
“Still, you know what I mean, Wildcat. I know we haven’t spent that much time together recently, and I miss my best pal.”
Catra scowled in confusion. “You came to my place for my birthday celebrations.”
“That was so long ago.”
“And Prom was before that, why’s that important now?”
That had Scorpia caught on her own tongue, her own arguments wrapping around themselves until they were contradicting. They were arguments for arguments sake, things Catra had never even cared about and was hoping Scorpia would drop the pitying remarks. That wasn’t what tonight was supposed to be about, was it?
“Still,” Scorpia went on. “Soon. We should plan something soon. A night when I’m not just passing through. I thought I wasn’t even going to make the time to see you. See, there’s this meeting I have to go to with the other Princesses and it got pushed back another day, so I knew I just had to—”
“Wait.” Of course, Catra couldn’t help picking out that one little detail. Her eyes were sharp, narrowing slightly as her tail flicked behind her. Scorpia waited, patiently, with a look of surprise at Catra’s interruption. “You haven’t even had your stupid Princess meeting yet?”
The surprise only cemented onto Scorpia’s face, puzzlement pulling her brow down into a frown. Her words came gentle though, careful. Maybe she wasn’t sure what to do with them. “…No. Wait, how do you know about the meeting?”
The flare of anger was immediate. It flicked up through her core, warming her insides as her jaw clenched. Every muscle in her body tightened as she held herself in place, forcing herself to stay as controlled as possible. Don’t let it out, don’t let it out. That was impossible when her eyes were already burning, and she had to avert her gaze downwards so it wasn’t directed at Scorpia. It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t deserve that hatred spearing through her.
Instead, her claws dug into the leather of the bench she was sitting on, the tips piercing through the otherwise sturdy material. This is unfair. It was unfair to get so mad at something that was probably unavoidable, but Catra couldn’t help thinking back to the promise she had made. That they’d be back together by this time, they’d be making up for their lost vacation and nothing would be able to distract them.
Except it was being pushed further away one again.
Two weeks. She had said two weeks.
How many times was this going to happen?
“Catra?” Scorpia spoke up. Catra refused to meet her eyes, instead looking to the table to see if there was something she could drink instead. Her eyes scanned over the shots, knowing it would be a bad idea.
“Catra,” Scorpia tried again, this time more forthcoming. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Catra snapped. A second later had her backtracking. “What’s wrong is I don’t have any fucking drinks that aren’t pure vodka sitting in front of me. Can we please order something else?”
Scorpia’s frown deepened. It became the concerning kind that etched worry into her eyes. The kind of look that Catra loathed, and so after only meeting her gaze for a few heartbeats, Catra had to turn her eyes away again. She couldn’t look at that — not when her heart was already making her feel sick.
“It’s not nothing,” Scorpia tried again. Her voice was warm, like a switch had been flicked inside of her to turn from excited best friend to concerned best friend. An instant change as to what Catra needed. How did even this make her feel so terrible? That she was ruining the mood of the night, that Scorpia had to find a way to make her feel better? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were just meant to be having fun, not get caught up in emotions.
There was no reason to be annoyed, and yet Catra’s words came out harsh. “Why can’t you just drop it?!”
If Scorpia was going to say anything, she didn’t get the chance.
“Oooo,” came a third voice, surrounded by the monotonous noises from beyond the room. Familiar, in an uncanny way. Both Catra and Scorpia turned their heads towards the door, now falling shut behind the person who had just stepped through it. “Kitty’s got a bite tonight, has she?”
It was unnerving for Catra to look upon herself. Especially dressed in that. Where Catra sat wearing a dark red open collared shirt underneath her leather jacket and ripped black skinny jeans, the other her was dressed in some silk piece romper. It hung off of her shoulders in a wine purple, flowing neatly around her body. Her chopped short hair was styled into a jagged ‘do and her face was almost unrecognisable with the amount of makeup put onto it, changing its shape and its angles. It was very not Catra. The image only put her more on edge, a discomfort shivering its way down her spine.
Her teeth gritted together, muscles once again tightening up as she tried to hold herself back from reacting. The other Catra only looked more amused, their expression shifting with a cruel smile — already contemplating their next trick. Their eyes pierced through Catra, a look she was far too familiar with. It was about pulling her apart, reading everything beneath the surface just by the way she held herself.
She wanted to give them as little as possible.
“Icy,” they jabbed, chuckling at the response neither Catra or Scorpia gave. It did little to dissuade them as they sauntered further into the room. “Is this how you party these days?”
Catra, still trying to keep her composure, turned her eyes away once again. She was not getting into this now, not with them. That did little in her favour as she felt them drape themselves down onto the bench beside her, lounging back against the cushioned rest. They were too close, thighs touching even being too much for Catra’s comfort.
But they weren’t going to stop. “Do I not even get a hello?”
“Take off my face and then maybe you’ll get a slap.” The words tumbled from Catra’s lips dripping in poison before she could stop herself. Her patience was wearing thin, ready to call quits on the night.
“Ugh, you are a real buzzkill,” said her voice from beside her. In an effort to take some control, a hand snaked under Catra’s chin. Fingers gripped before she had the chance to recoil, pulling her face around so she was suddenly facing them, inches away from the replica. Blue and yellow eyes bore into her own, until— a reptilian blink, and her eyes were replaced with sickly yellow.
Catra felt her own lip curl up in a snarl, disgust written all over her features.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she pressed as her hand reached up to grab their wrist. She yanked it away and — surprising to her — their hand pulled away with it, letting go of her. She could feel where their fingers had gripped still, could feel where marks would be left behind. Her skin crawled with the sensation.
They chuckled as they leaned back, leaning their cheek into their palm. Darkness rippled across their body, a wave of it starting down at their feet. As it danced upwards, their body shifted beneath their clothes, and where her familiar frame had once sat was replaced with the skinny form of Double Trouble. Green skin beneath the deep purple silk, platinum blonde hair pulled over one shoulder, and still those sickly eyes that took too long to blink.
“I heard a rumour,” they teased. “Decided to see for myself if you were really hiding away up here.”
“So you just had to put me on.” It was a statement more than a question, and still dripping with disgust.
“How else was I supposed to get in?” Double Trouble said with a shrug of the shoulders, as if it was as harmless as a yawn. “Didn’t expect to walk in on domestic issues. What is it this time?”
“Like I’d tell you.” With that, Catra turned herself away as a rage started to boil through her. As if her night wasn’t already going terribly, now she was stuck with this blackmailing bitch sitting beside her. Her eyes flicked to Scorpia for only a moment, but it was a moment enough. Her confusion had set into a worry as she watched the scene unfold between the pair on the other side of the table, and Catra’s face burning with anger was probably only making her more concerned.
Fuck it, maybe vodka would just have to do.
“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” They asked, a hand reaching out to graze fingers against her elbow. “You know I hate seeing you like this, even if the drama is delicious.”
That had Catra snap herself back around, her face covered with shock at the proposition. “Oh, I fucking know, do I? Doesn’t fucking seem like it when you’re spreading shit to the tabloids, you piece of shit.”
“That was far too many ‘it’s in one sentence, kitten,” they continued. The point only flared her anger more, as if that fucking mattered. As if anything they had to say to her at that moment mattered. “Are you seriously still pissed over that? As if it wasn’t amazing publicity for you and Taylor. Really, you should be thanking me.”
That was all she needed. Catra’s hands reached forward, twisting fingers into the fabric of Double Trouble’s romper. Her claws poked through threads but she hardly cared if rips were made as she pulled the shapeshifter forward, closer into her front. They didn’t stop her, a smirk on their lips as Catra bared her teeth. Somewhere in the background she was aware of Scorpia calling her name, gasping in shock. A warning, a reminder. Don’t do anything you can’t walk back from.
“I don’t fucking need you meddling in my love life, so yes, I am still pissed,” Catra spat in their face.
Yet, their features curled, the smile cruel. The words that followed came slow, smooth like honey. “So this is about your love life. How interesting.”
And just like that, Catra felt as if she’d walked into a trap. Her tension broke for a moment, showing a stunned expression breaking across her face. Too much had already been given, and she hadn’t even given it. Her hands let go, shoving Double Trouble back into the bench as they laughed about it, turning herself away from them so she didn’t have to look at that smug face.
It wasn’t any better as her eyes settled on Scorpia. Once again, she found herself finding something on Scorpia’s face. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge. Her friend held her gaze, and Catra could see her mind working behind her dark eyes. She saw the exact moment it clicked, and Catra’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.
“Oh, Catra…” Scorpia started, shaking her head back and forth.
A clawed finger pointed at her. “Don’t you dare.”
“Your love life?”
“Don’t say anything!”
“But it is, isn’t it?”
It is. And Catra didn’t need to explain any further. Her silence, along with that pleading look in her eyes, was enough for Scorpia to connect the last dots. To connect her earlier outlash with the subject at hand. The meeting being postponed that drove her to this unjust anger. The meeting, the princesses, a princess. A Princess who got a birthday card, a surprise song dedication, a dance. Who was caught at her show, being papped as they got into the same car together.
It was obvious. It was so obvious once all the pieces were laid out together, and Catra knew it as soon as she saw the pity fill Scorpia’s eyes. She hated being pitied, and that small piece of emotion was enough to solidify the annoyance back into Catra’s chest. She dropped her hand, claws finding their way back to digging into the leather of the seat and clenched her teeth, holding herself still — hard.
“That serious, hm?” Double Trouble taunted from her side.
Catra didn’t walk into it. The less she gave them, the less they’d have to drag her down — and yet they were still doing a fantastic job of it. It was best to ignore them, to stay staring at Scorpia with that pained expression, that wordless agony bleeding out of her so she would at least understand. She couldn’t be doing this — not here, not with this audience. As if emotions weren’t already hard enough for her. Even on her best day it would have been difficult to get out of her. This was the last thing she wanted to be doing.
Still, Scorpia found herself continuing on, pressing for more. “What is it, have you not seen her?”
“Scorpia, please—” Catra begged, her words quickly interrupted.
“Oh, this is juicy,” Double Trouble jumped in, sitting forward again to put themselves into the conversation. Catra still didn’t justify them with her attention, but she noted Scorpia’s eyes flicking away from her own to land on the face beside her. “A mystery girl who’s keeping a distance? That must be killing you, kitten.”
“I could try!” Scorpia was quick to jump in next, refusing Catra any time to speak as she started down her usual path of trying to be helpful. “I could say something to her, if you want.”
“No, I don’t—” Catra huffed, the annoyance finally taking a toll on her. “I don’t want you to do anything, I need you to leave it alone!”
“I don’t want to see my best pal miserable.”
“Well you’re doing a very good job at making me that way!” The words snapped from her mouth before she could help herself. The regret hit instantly as Scorpia visibly winced. It wasn’t her fault that any of this was happening, she was just trying to be helpful.
All it did was bring Catra back to that feeling of unfair.
She brushed a hand through her hair, sweeping back her fringe to clear her face. It wasn’t needed, she had no trouble seeing as it was, but Catra was trapped with the urge to have her hands do something. Anything to keep them from getting too close to anyone else. Everything was piling up. The high strung emotions from the previous week, the alcohol now fully in her system, the annoyance from her ex-friend and the annoyance from her best. All of it piling on top of the issue at heart — her love breaking in a thousand places, cracking up with a decade’s worth of strain.
“Darling,” came that voice again, and Catra had to bite the inside of her lip to stop herself from snapping at them immediately. Her eyes flickered shut, hiding behind the darkness of her eyelids while she felt them move closer into her, an arm snaking its way around her shoulders. That body warm at her side but the least bit comforting. “I’m not going to pretend like I know the ins and outs of your latest love quest, but—”
“Good, then shut up,” Catra snapped through gritted teeth.
“But… I do know you, whether you like it or not.”
They were right about the not part. Double Trouble slipped a finger below her chin, hooking over her jaw. The slightest bit of pressure teased her, trying to bring her around to face them again, but Catra stood her ground. She held her neck strong, and so they didn’t push. They didn’t remove the finger either and she felt it stroke up along the bone.
“You’re hurting,” they observed. “You want attention.”
With those words, Catra was quick to knock away their hand, trying to free herself from their insistent touch. “Not from the likes of you.”
Double Trouble only chuckled, unbothered by Catra’s attempt to put some distance between them. They were still loving every moment of the interaction, soaking it in. This, Catra knew, was probably their idea of entertainment for the evening. She hated that she was probably giving them everything they wanted. “But you’re not getting it from your new play thing, are you? So where else will you get it from?”
Another flare of heat through her core, burning anger flushing her face at their choice of words. She spun around, grabbing at the romper once again.
“She’s not a play thing. Stop.” Her voice shook with it, the emotion slipping over her tongue carelessly as she struggled to keep herself in check. She wasn’t going to hear this from the likes of Double Trouble, not about someone they don’t know, not about Adora—
There was that smirk again, that chuckle, and Double Trouble looked as though they were having the time of their life. “Oh, but that only makes it worse, doesn’t it?” They prodded, once again reaching up to stroke the hair behind her ear. “No attention from someone that seems oh so important. Really, kitten, from my perspective? This doesn’t seem like it’s going to last.”
That struck, and Catra blinked. Her eyes held theirs, and despite their wretched game playing with her emotions, she thought she could see some recognition of sympathy in the sickly yellow. Familiar from older days, when she’d found herself on some shitty couch, crying about something in her life, someone. Sometimes drunk, other times just tired. Double Trouble would sit with her, petting her hair, speaking wise words and reminding her she had so much going for her. They’d find her confidence again, drag it right out of her. Set her back onto her path. She had needed it in the early days, once fame had started to become too much for the small town kid. She had needed that support making sure she wouldn’t drown in it.
How had their friendship gone so wrong?
“You need more than that, darling. Why settle for less? I’ve seen your heart break over and over, don’t let this one be self-inflicted.”
As if it wasn’t already breaking.
She could feel where her bottom lip trembled. Even as her jaw clenched, teeth pressed together until they began to hurt, she could not stop the slight wobble of her lip. Betrayed by her own flesh. It was supposed to be different this time around. This wasn’t supposed to be less. They’d been more free with each other than at any other point in their lives, it was supposed to be good. Even now, as Catra thought about their time together, she felt like she was being wrapped in a warm hug inside a blanket. Comforted, warmed. It felt like home.
Home with a knife that would strike her in the abdomen, piercing her through with a pain she couldn’t ignore. Everything good coming away dripping in red, making it harder and harder to look every time she went back.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
If they could see her internal conflict, Double Trouble didn’t comment on it. Instead they found something else to say, and it was a choice.
“Or, if you’d rather burn yourself for the sake of it, tell me who it is. I could tide you over until you see her next.”
Nothing could have stopped the slap that cracked across their cheek. Her hand came in a flash, the incident happening within a second. Even Catra felt slightly surprised by herself, but she was more consumed by the burning rage that the easy comment that instilled in her. Suddenly their words didn’t matter, leaving room only for the disgust that normally took residence inside Catra when she found herself in their presence again.
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that again,” Catra hissed. She shoved herself up to a standing position as Double Trouble looked back to her. Their own hand now cradled their face where the bright hand mark would surely soon appear. Their eyes met in the darkness, and she saw both a fierceness and a wariness there.
That was nothing compared to the fury that ignited in Catra’s. Standing above them, she leaned down closer, only to make sure that every word spoken wasn’t lost between them. “Don’t ever fucking speak about someone I love, you fucking asshole. I almost thought for a second you’d actually changed, but you’re still the slimy, spineless little cockroach I left you as and if I ever fucking see you again, I will not hesitate to do worse to that face of yours.”
She straightened herself, hands clenched into fists at her side. Catra was done with this for the night — all of this whole fucking thing. She glanced back towards Scorpia, who only looked uncomfortable and uneasy at her outburst. Catra knew she deserved some words — an apology, but there was no chance she was getting anything like that past her lips tonight. Not after all of that, not after everything she was feeling. All she wanted to do was run away and wallow in herself.
No — she didn’t want to wallow. She wanted to rip into herself and pull every horrid thought and feeling out of her. She wanted to purge herself of this sickness and lie down defeated until she would return. And when she would, she would pull Catra into her and bring that life back to her, and Catra would fall for it all over again.
Maybe. Maybe not this time.
Perhaps Scorpia could see the unspoken apology in her eyes, or she simply saw that burning fury still aglow. Either way she said nothing with only disappointment showing across her features. Catra would have to make up for this, but not tonight. With no other words to share, she stepped her way around the table and marched her way out of the room and out into the louder hallway. Words floated out behind her, following her as a goodbye.
“Until next time, darling!”
She said nothing to her security detail as she left the room, but he was quick to follow after her. Catra quickly made her way through the maze of hallways, head turned down to stop the chances of being recognised by those around her. She pushed through the noise of the place, of bodies in the way, of the suffocation she felt, until she broke her way out into the New York streets.
Catra breathed in the outside air, no longer feeling stuffy inside the private room. Her lungs expanded, her chest heaving as she tried to settle every unkept emotion inside of her. She couldn’t stay here for long, freedom only granted for as long as until passersby began to recognise her, but the cool air did something for her nerves. It did not release her of the sickness, but shuddering movements inside of her dulled into a hummed vibration. As soon as she made it home, Catra was going to place herself in her garden where she could breathe this in for longer. She needed this.
“Boss?” her security asked from behind her. Catra exhaled, releasing her tension even more before turning to address him.
“Call the car,” she instructed. “I want to go home.”
He nodded, pulling his phone out from his pocket to do just that. The action was enough to spark a reminder in Catra’s mind of her own cell weighing down in her pocket. She slipped her hand into her jacket and pulled the device out. A click of the screen was enough to see that message once again, sitting and waiting for her. It pooled in her stomach, just as before, but this time her heart tugged down with it.
Catra unlocked the phone and quickly typed back a message.
please go to sleep
The response was almost immediate.
i love you
Seen ✓
* * *
NINE MONTHS PREVIOUSLY
“You can’t tell anyone about this.”
Catra’s heart had clenched the moment she heard those words. She set herself, expression blank as she stared at her fingers. A clawed thumb dug into her own skin, picking at nothing for something to do. She hadn’t looked, hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge Adora as she’d gone about the process of gathering her clothes and dressing herself. Even once she was spoken to, Catra could do nothing but hold herself tight, unable to let herself open.
“You got it.”
The bed shifted and Catra broke — her eyes glanced over to watch as Adora pulled herself from the mattress and stood herself straight. She watched, in dread, as Adora had slipped outside the door without another word.
She hadn’t even said goodbye. Again.
Catra found herself in that sickly silence. Dead silence, numbing and deafening as it hung over the room. It felt stifling, enclosing around her lungs until all she could do was hold her breath. Hold it as the pressure built behind her sinuses, choking herself on the promise of tears. They stung her eyes before they hit with a tremble in her lip and a pain that felt physical.
The first sob that broke from her sounded like a coming of death.
It all came at once. Catra felt the wave of emotion that had been building all evening crash over her, drenching her completely. She shuddered, exhaling loudly as she lost all control of her breathing. Tears flooded her eyes, turning the world into a blurred mess of colour and shapes. They shook, distorting the light further as her hands fumbled with the bed sheets around her. Her body felt weak as she pulled herself from where they had laid together, a coldness wrapping around her as she did.
Cold. There was no such thing as cold. Only a void of something. An absence of warmth. An absence of—
Catra’s feet touched the floor and she pushed herself away from the bed, glancing through her fuzzy vision for something to throw on. She was lucky to find her underwear close by — that last of the clothes to be discarded — and pulled them on over her legs. It was harder to find her next piece. Catra ended up falling to her knees, hands feeling around for anything to pull on. When her fingers grazed across silk— That would do. That would have to do.
She half haphazardly pulled the silken shirt over her arms as she awkwardly got back up from her knees. No time to do the buttons up, no time to think about how she was presenting herself as she stumbled towards the bathroom. The door swung open forcefully as one hand slapped against the wall, quickly trying to find the light switch to bring some illumination to the room.
And finally she was at the sink, spinning the tap of cold water on blast. The pressure of the water splashed against her exposed stomach and the scent of the fresh water crashing against the marble filled her nose. Her hands dived into the water, splashing it up into her face. What was it supposed to do? The water only masked the tears, joining them on cheeks as droplets fell back into the sink. Catra sobbed as she dunked another hand into the water, bringing it up to her neck where she could still feel Adora’s kisses, could still feel the marks that she left behind.
She’d been so foolish — luring herself into a false sense of vulnerability. She’d never felt so bare as she’d fallen from her high, collapsing into the bed sheets beside Adora. The rhythm of her body slowed down as the pace of her heartbeats and her breaths remembered themselves. She had been hyper aware of the body next to her, it’s own pace slipping back into something normal as the two of them had laid there, minds whirling with what they had just done. She had listened to every sigh as they slowed, quietened, settled. Watched from the corner of her eye as Adora had stilled. Her hand left lying between them itched to move closer. To brush against ribs, stroke along skin, revisit that shape of muscle. She wanted to indulge herself further and obsess over her. To mould herself into the crevices of Adora’s form and find a home there.
But then Adora had pulled herself away. Wordlessly moving around the bed to gather her belongings. Catra first had felt lost, sitting up slowly as her eyes followed Adora picking up her clothes. Neither of them saying anything as she’d gone through the process of dressing herself again. All Catra could do was watch in horror until something started to hurt. It took everything in her to drag her eyes away, to settle onto her hands, to refuse to meet Adora’s gaze when she finally twisted around to face her.
All of it slipping away, once again, before her very eyes. She had been foolish to indulge herself. Foolish to feast and behold. All it had done was bring more pain, breaking open a wound that was over a decade old. Both of them being so selfish as to tear down every barrier and ignore the warning signs. Catra had heard every alarm in her head screaming at her as she’d fallen into that kiss, drowning them out as she’d walked Adora to the bed and found her place on top of her. How could she not, when the one thing she’d been yearning for for twelve years was presenting itself to her? Who wouldn’t have fallen for the trap?
And oh, how she’d fallen. When every cry of her name had been as delicious on the ears as each of Adora’s kisses, when she swore their hearts had stepped into the same beat, when their eyes had lingered on each other’s for moments too long, unspoken words somehow shared between them. Every instant of it intoxicating until Catra had no other way to express it than the hurt she inflicted upon Adora’s skin. Claws digging in, marking red over her thighs and into her sides. Fangs bringing a sharpness to each kiss. As if it would make this anymore real, as if it would write them into the stars.
Catra could forget — Catra could let herself drop every wall she’d ever built around herself, every mask she’d ever worn, all as Adora brought her towards the edge. Her touch something magic as their lips hovered above each other’s, mouths open. Breathing each other in, drinking each other up. Catra had felt it then, and she wondered if her moans could be heard as I love you’s, spoken over and over quietly — whispered, like a promise.
All of that, every trace of it, had to be washed away. Catra’s hands dipped into the water once again, splashing it up into her face and combing it through her hair. Her mind retraced every path those hands had made across her body, mapping out what had to be scrubbed clean of dangerous memories. It was too much, overwhelming as those sobs shook across her body. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t stand, and her own hands surely couldn’t hold herself together.
She flipped the tap off before sinking down to the floor. The heated tiles did little to soften her seat. She shuffled herself backwards until her spine was pressed against the side of the bathtub. She could sense Adora all over her, the ghost of her touch still lingering. Too much of her was still present despite the sudden departure and Catra wanted to strip herself clean of her.
But that felt like too much. To drag herself into the shower and to wipe herself clean. She was shaking too hard, sucking in air unevenly as she struggled around each wretched sob, cheeks sticky with her tears. She couldn’t move as a panic set deep into her bones, her chest tight with anxiety. Suddenly everything felt too close. Catra wanted to rip herself free from her own bones, to tear off her own skin with the same claws that left bruises painted across Adora.
Just to her side was a towel rail, two cloths hanging off of it in wait to be used. Catra could just about reach, yanking the lowest one down free. Pulling her knees up in front of her, she bundled the towel against them. A perfect hideaway where Catra could close her eyes as she shoved her face into the fabric, letting her cries be muffled. She tightened herself into a ball as much as possible, closing herself off from the entire world as she shook.
She had been described as destructive plenty of times in the past. Destructive with her hands, breaking items unnecessarily for her own amusement, or fiery with fight at all the wrong people. Destructive with herself, working herself too hard or never hard enough, until her body broke down unsure of how to carry on. Destructive with her words, with how she broke hearts and ruined memories until they were rotten. They had only seen her for her faults. She had always thought differently, believing she could handle herself better than anyone else knew. They didn’t know her really, they didn’t understand what had been going on inside her head. They saw how her body broke down, saw her small form and assumed — they had no idea what she had been through.
Now, Catra felt nothing but a shattered heart and every jagged edge found a way to cut her deeper. Shrapnel lodging itself into every emotional wound she had. Maybe they had been right. She should have known better than to fall into the trap, but Adora had looked at her with those sad eyes of her’s. For once, Catra had been able to see the reflection of the young Adora she once knew, begging for something. A cry for help. And Catra had been weak, and she had overestimated herself, ignored her own mind that knew better. She threw herself in, disregarding how the flames burned her through, ignoring the destruction if it meant feeling everything she had ever wanted.
One message ran through her head as she curled into a mess of herself, loud in her ears and poisoned with guilt.
This was a mistake. This was a mistake.
This was a mistake.
This was a mistake.
This was a mistake.
* * *
Adora was giddy in the car.
She couldn’t help it. Her body couldn’t sit still as they drove through the darkness. Lights from outside were barely breaking through the tinted glass windows, but her compartment was well lit where she sat with Juliet. Sat, with one leg bobbing up and down on her heel, with her hands twisting in and out of each other, with thumbs pressing into the squish of her palms, with her teeth biting lightly into her bottom lip.
She could barely contain the excitement that was fizzing away inside of her. She’d been counting down the weeks, each passing with excruciating pain when more time was added onto the back end. A month it had ended up being. She’d forced herself to focus on her work, to pay the Princesses her respect by keeping her undivided attention on them, but Adora would be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t thought about Catra.
Adora had thought about her in the quiet moments. Every night as she’d found her way to a pillow, she’d closed her eyes and pictured her smile. Every morning she awoke, her mind had played the sound of her laugh. She saw blue and gold behind her eyelids every time she blinked, like a constant hum in the back of her mind. It had been a comfort through the stress to remember what was waiting for her on the other side. How Adora wished she could have had her at her side the entire time. To find her evenings crawling into Catra’s arms, to find her comfort in the real thing instead of just the memories she’d already replayed over and over. All of it was so fruitful, but it was always just the same.
So of course, once she’d finally landed in New York City, Adora’s heart had begun to race as she ticked down the last remaining minutes.
It took too long to get to the separated house, situated in privacy. When they finally pulled up to the security gate, Adora was already unfastening her seatbelt. She sensed Juliet beside her getting as ready to move as she was. Adora wasn’t going to wait. Maybe Juliet knew that. The gates opened and the car rolled in lazily up the driveway until it pulled up outside of the large welcoming doors to Catra’s home.
Adora was quick. She hopped from the vehicle herself, not bothering to wait for any security to meet her at the door. She was aware of Juliet following behind her, but that sense was dim compared to the smile that was spreading across her face. Large in her cheeks, lighting up her entire face at the prospect of finally, finally only being feet away from Catra.
The front door opened before she even made it, a face popping out to greet her. It wasn’t one Adora instantly recognised — another piece of Catra’s personnel hanging around her home. She pulled the door open to allow Adora to walk inside, Juliet slipping in after once she had caught up. Adora was already pulling off her jacket.
“Princess She-Ra,” the personnel greeted. Her expression was tight, as though she were hiding something. “We weren’t expecting you. It’s late.”
“Yeah,” Adora smiled as Juliet took her jacket, finding a place to hang it as though it belonged there. “Yeah, I know it’s late but I came as soon as I could and so— here I am!” She continued to beam as she looked beyond the personnel, further into the home.
Finally, the question they had all been waiting for was blurted out. “Where’s Catra?”
The personnel nodded shortly. “Upstairs in her study. Is there anything I can offer you—?”
Adora didn’t mean to cut her off so rudely, but she really didn’t care enough at that moment. All she cared about was seeing Catra’s face in front of her again. She rushed to walk — run — up the stairs, and was thankful that no footsteps followed.
Halfway up, Adora’s ears finally noted the gentle sound of piano music. The notes came so softly, as if fingers were barely pressing the keys down. There was no smooth rhythm to the music that came from a professional recording. It was someone taking each note, each bar as they felt like it. A softer smile tugged at Adora’s lips as she realised — Catra was playing, and she was playing for herself. She followed the gentle music towards the door, and once she was close enough, Adora heard it.
A soft singing voice, muffle through the wood and walls.
“…It’s been days and weeks and months…”
The first lyrics halted with the piano music, falling on chords that hung in the air. They played out until the notes disappeared into the space around them, swallowed up by every piece of Catra’s study.
Adora had halted with them, standing on the other side of the door as she listened to the sound. It hung heavy, mournful. Nothing like the kind of music Adora had heard Catra play before. Of course she had her ballads, her sad slowed down tracks with even sadder lyrics, but what Adora heard now was far different. Those tracks had come with a powerful voice, letting the world know of the hurt she held in her heart. These words came much quieter, like a whisper to herself.
Adora’s stomach flipped for a moment as the piano chords continued, bringing more lyrics with them.
“Feels like forever since I saw you…”
She rested herself against the door, leaning her head inwards as she listened. She was right that it did not sound like Catra’s usual music. Every string of notes came delicately, as if she were scared to speak them any louder. Such a vast difference to the powerful, anger filled lyrics she’d heard on stage. Catra’s music was always filled with confessions — this only held secrets.
Adora’s hand reached for the door handle, gently wrapping her fingers around it so that even Catra’s keen ears wouldn’t be able to pick it up, but before she could find it in her to interrupt, the next line of music continued on.
“I’m forgetting how you felt now… I’ve never had this much time on my… hands…”
If Adora’s stomach flipped before, now it was doing somersaults. She breathed in deeply, trying her hardest not to read too deeply into the words being sung on the other side of the door. Her heart was still quick with the anticipation of seeing Catra again, and Adora didn’t want to lose that feeling. This was supposed to be good. They were finally here again, together, and she couldn’t wait to feel the comfort of belonging once again.
Adora dared herself — exhaled, held herself up, and opened the door. She felt sheepish as she slipped inside, but her smile had found its way to her lips again as her eyes settled on the back of Catra’s head.
Even from there, Adora noted how Catra’s body tensed itself, shoulders tightening upwards. It spoke of annoyance, of irritation, and she was quick to spin herself around on the stool she sat upon.
“I thought I said no interrup—!” Catra began, the last word dying on her tongue as her eyes settled on who had let themselves in. Adora watched as the flash of anger across her features disappeared, falling behind a stoney expression of shock. Her body still held stiff, but Adora only felt herself melting.
“Surprise!” she beamed, eyebrows lifting up earnestly as she took a step into the room.
And a surprise it was. Catra looked off guard as she realised what was happening in front of her. “Adora. I… thought you said you weren’t coming until tomorrow?”
“Well, that’s the point of a surprise,” Adora teased. “You’re not meant to know beforehand.”
It was supposed to be light hearted, but Catra was unreadable as her own brows held themselves crooked on her forehead.
“Oh. Well…” Catra’s hands fiddled for a moment on the stool, an awkward air falling over her again as they stared at each other. Seconds ticked by and Adora felt her smile falter, felt the fizzing excitement inside her start to die. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Maybe she should have called ahead. Maybe this was a bad time. Maybe Catra was just tired — Adora knew how grouchy she could get when she was tired.
Catra swallowed, her eyes darting away, before she twisted herself back around to the piano and allowed her hands to find their keys again. Music returned to the air after a pause, but the melody had changed. Catra busied herself playing something else as Adora watched her.
Her eyes scanned over Catra’s back, watching the way her shoulder blades shifted with her movement. She was half dressed up in the warm light of the lamps that illuminated the room. The weather was too hot for the fire, but the lamps standing freely around the room practically gave the same effect. Her muscles moved beneath a white shirt that was loosely tucked into her black slacks. What Adora hadn’t noticed when she first walked in were the suspenders that crossed Catra’s back and over her shoulders, the black standing out against the white. Her sleeves were rolled up above the elbow, and the assemble looked devilishly handsome with her tousled hair. Adora could tell it had once been neat, but in her opinion it probably looked better this way anyway.
Not the attire for a casual night in of songwriting, though.
Catra continued to play as Adora began to walk closer. Her body shifted with the movements of her hands. The music still came at her own pace, Catra moving onto each bar as she so felt, but the melody itself was something far more neutral than what Adora had managed to catch through the door. The change was interesting, but Adora was still trying to decipher what was going on before her. Once she was close enough, Adora noted two things sitting on top of the piano. The first a black cat that blended into the black varnish of the instrument. The other, a tumbler glass holding a golden brown liquid.
“You’re all dressed up,” she noted out loud. It was neither subtle nor gentle as she prodded with curiosity. Catra had said it herself, she had thought Adora was still supposed to arrive tomorrow night. This was for something else.
“Mhmm,” Catra hummed, her attention still on her hands and their placement across the piano. “I had dinner with my label tonight. About my next album.”
“Your next album,” Adora repeated. Right. That all made sense. Of course that made sense. The outfit, the beverage, Catra’s exhaustion, every piece of the puzzle fit together. Even now sitting at the piano made more sense with that piece of knowledge. Music was on her mind, and clearly the cogs were turning if she had immediately turned to the instrument once she had come home. Satisfied with that answer, Adora closed the distance between them as she invited herself to join Catra on the piano stool. “You didn’t tell me you were working on a new album.”
“Am I?” Catra piqued. She turned her head just enough to make eyes with Adora. She hadn’t bothered to give either of them more room on the stool, continuing to play with Adora right by her side. Her eyelids drooped — a combination of the exhaustion and the alcohol, Adora presummed. Blue and gold held her eyes still, Adora finding herself lost in them as the music filled her mind. Hypnotised. It was easy to forget about everything — the Princesses and the Runestones and her deceiving Court. It was easy to forget when they were the only things existing in the entire universe.
In that ease, Catra’s eyes dropped down to glance at Adora’s lips.
It had just been for a moment, and then Catra turned herself back to the white and black keys. The spell had been broken, but Adora still felt like she was under Catra’s persuasion. Still found herself lulled by the melody, still fixated on Catra’s features. She was beautiful from this angle, her senses dulled to slip into a candidness as she played. Each curve of her profile sharp against the orange light from behind.
“Was the song you were playing before I came in for the new album?” Adora asked, though her curiosity came gentle this time.
Even with that gentleness, it was this question of all of them that had Catra reacting as though she were burned. Her hands lifted sharply from the piano, fingertips settling on the black lip. The sudden lack of music, cut off sharply, felt unnatural to Adora’s ears. Her brows pinched in the middle as she watched Catra. Her expression was still unreadable, but her mouth hung open as though the question had winded her. Catra’s first movement was her eyes flicking up, settling on the glass in front of her. She grabbed it, downed the last of the golden liquid, and placed it back on it’s coaster. Catra gave herself another moment before she hovered her hands above the keys again. Another then before her fingers pressed down on their first chords. She held that note until the sound of it died around them. Only then did Catra continue into her next piece.
Another melody that did not match the last nor the one before that. This one came sadder, Adora thought. Still disjointed to play at the pace Catra felt fitting for her. It was interesting to hear the music played in such a way. Adora had been lucky enough to see the classics played on large open stages. Invited, usually, or encouraged. Either way every piece she had heard had always been for a performance. Each practised until precision was the only answer, perfection the only solution. The audience would accept no less from them.
This felt much more beautiful, in Adora’s opinion. Of course the original pieces were still as such, but there was something so warming to hear a piece played by Catra to fit herself. Perhaps it was only for this moment. A version of the music that would only ever exist for them. That. That is what made this feel so special. Maybe they weren’t lost in each other’s eyes, but instead lost in a sound that would never exist again. It was only about the present — the present that existed between them.
Adora felt herself melting once again. All she could do was watch Catra’s hands, steal glances at her face, as she lived in this space with the music. Her heart swelled inside of her chest, warming across her body and through her limbs. Love. She knew it was love. This was just another piece of Catra she could fall in love with. She wondered how much more of the one that owned her heart could she fall for. How many more times would she experience this feeling? Would it be limitless? Was it finite?
She didn’t want to know the answers, and so Adora allowed her mind to switch off — to only listen, to feel, and exist with her love. Catra played beautifully still, at a skill level Adora had never known from her. A hidden talent, or a hidden passion. She allowed the piece to flow through her body, still moving with it as it crawled up and down the keys. She poured herself into it until the melody began to slow. The finale settled, Catra’s fingers finding their places and holding the notes until they died themselves. She allowed the piece to close itself out. No abrupt stop to shatter the illusion of this one.
Adora, still lost in her, reached a hand across. Her fingers caressed Catra’s chin as she coaxed her to face her once again. Those drooped lidded eyes settled on Adora, but her expression was as tired as before. Adora allowed herself a moment to drink all of her in, to appreciate every sparkle in her eye and every freckle that decorated her face, before she leaned herself in to press lips against lips.
Only they never got there. Catra read the movement and turned herself away sharply. Adora caught herself before her lips met cheek, eyes wide as she watched Catra pull herself away completely — standing and walking towards the armchairs by the fire.
This time as the spell broke, it broke for good.
“Catra?”
Nothing. Catra didn’t give her anything as she came to a stop behind the sofa, one hand resting on the top to feel against the fabric. She was looking downwards. Her ears lay low, her tail unmoving. Adora’s heart sank, falling down to where her stomach started up it’s somersaults once again. Just like that, in the space of a few seconds, Adora felt her insides turn into a puddle.
It was hard to keep her mind from flashing back to a memory — the two of them on the sofa the last time she was there. Catra’s soft words, her sweet confession, the passionate kisses. Everything had felt so perfect. Now Adora only felt unsteady, unsure of what was playing out before her.
“Catra, what’s wrong?” she tried again.
Catra scoffed in reply as she turned herself around, leaning back against the sofa. Her shirt — with a few buttons undone, her white undershirt peeking out — bunched up around her shoulders as she slumped down against her hands that braced against the sofa.
“What isn’t wrong?” Her tone was just as unreadable as the rest of her. It felt as though Catra had muted herself. Her face held in a neutral expression, though sadness tugged at the edges. Her body language held her close to herself — no doubt trying to protect herself from something. Adora knew Catra could be tough to crack sometimes, but this was a whole different thing. Where usually she’d snap and bite to protect herself, now Catra felt void of anything that was truly her.
It only made the situation that much more alien, but Adora could almost recognise it. On a ballroom dance floor, twelve years between them — a mask to hide behind.
“What do you mean?” Adora coaxed, her own voice wavering with uncertainty — and fear. She swung her legs over the stool so she didn’t have to break that eye contact with Catra. Adora barely even blinked, standing up to take some steps towards her. She didn’t want to close the distance completely, just as fearful that doing that would cause Catra to retreat, to be even more protective.
Catra’s jaw worked itself, clenching and shifting beneath her skin as she held something back. She was so closed off, so much so that eventually she had to drop her own gaze from Adora’s. The sickness only burned harsher, and Adora felt her heartbeat pick up as a panic set itself into her bones.
“Catra,” she pleaded desperately. “Please, talk to me.”
Catra’s head rolled, eyes darting around the room for a moment before settling on Adora once again. Finally there was something there, shining through the cracks of her façade — pain.
“Two weeks,” she stated, her voice cracking from the first syllable. “You said two weeks.”
The words were sharp, stinging Adora quickly. Her breath caught as she rolled them around her head, trying to fill in all the blanks that Catra was leaving open for her.
She felt blindsided. The two weeks she had promised had passed, and Adora had felt guilt rip through her as she updated Catra on the situation. She hadn’t been the most responsive, Adora had realised, but she hadn’t said anything against it. Hadn’t aired her troubles or issues, hadn’t given the slightest indication that it had hurt her deeper. Adora had thought it was fine. She’d carried on, waiting patiently for the day she’d be able to get away and make good on her promise to make up for their lost time.
Adora had thought they were on the same page. It hurt her more than she thought it would to suddenly find out that wasn’t the case.
“I—” Adora muttered, finding the need to say something despite the confusion that was coursing through her. A frown found its way onto her face, creasing with worry and irritation. “I thought that— Catra, I don’t understand, I thought we were okay with this.”
“Oh, well I didn’t realise we could actually have opinions on it,” she snapped back bitterly.
That sting was only going deeper, twisting in the needle point. She could feel it morphing, the edges stretching out into a blade. Her mind was still doing the gymnastics to catch up to Catra’s speed, to work out where all of this had suddenly come from. She couldn’t help but wonder if the empty glass sitting on the piano had anything to do with it, but Adora knew better than to bring that up now.
“Well what was I supposed to do?” she questioned, diving in deep. They weren’t going to get anywhere if Adora just skimmed at the surface. If there was any way of fixing whatever this was she had to meet Catra in whatever hole she’d dug for herself. “Leave before I was ready? Not come at all?”
Catra just scoffed again, and this one came with a smile that only made Adora more bitter.
“What would you want me to do, Catra?” She pushed, her voice rising with annoyance.
“As if what I want matters,” she was quick to bite back. Adora could see the slightest tremble in Catra’s bottom lip — enough to make her suddenly regret her harsher tone.
“What— ? Of course it matters—”
“But it doesn’t, Adora!” For the first time Catra’s voice truly rose, the volume of it making Adora flinch away. Catra’s hands gripped harder to her sofa, and Adora had the odd worry that she was going to pierce it with her claws. “Not really! Surely even you know that.”
“Well it matters to me,” Adora said weakly. It pulled a chuckle from Catra. The kind that started off with one breath out, two, and slowly built up. Her chest and shoulders shook with it. The laugh was hollow though, which only stung Adora more.
“None of that matters,” Catra said with the smallest shake of her head. Her brows were creased into something sad. Even under the harsh tones and bitter laughs, there was still that peeking through her cracks. “It’s never going to matter because I’m always going to have to compete, aren’t I? I’m always going to have to compete and I’m always going to lose.”
Part of Adora felt bewildered by what she was hearing. Catra had truly funneled herself into a place she didn’t want to crawl out of, burrowing herself down until there was nothing but insecurities and fears surrounding her. She’d been left to fester with her own thoughts for too long, and suddenly Adora was thinking that maybe she should have come back sooner. If she had known, if she had any idea—
But she hadn’t, because how could she? And that’s where the rest of Adora was. Filling up with her own anger. She didn’t want to say it was directed at Catra, but it was frustrating that all of this was being unleashed now when she hadn’t said a word of it before. How was Adora supposed to know? How was she meant to make any of it better if Catra wasn’t going to share her grievances?
Her frustration broke through. “You don’t have to compete, that’s not how relationships work.”
“Well maybe that’s because this isn’t a normal relationship!” Catra’s words were getting faster, wavering as her emotions got the better of her. There was a flash of a glint in Catra’s eye from one of the lamps. What was that, tears? It was hard to tell in the dim, warm lighting of the room. “Because I am always going to have to compete! You have to pick where you put your time, me or your responsibilities, and I know what the answer is going to be. Of course I know what the answer is going to be, there’s only ever going to be one answer to that!”
Is that really how Catra viewed this? As if Adora’s heart wasn’t already full as it was, the panic spiked back up again. She could hear her blood rushing through her ears, her chest pained with how fast her heart thumped below her ribs. How much of it could Catra see on her face? She wasn’t trying to hold any of it back, and she could only imagine the mess of a painted canvas she must appear as. Compared to Catra, who was still trying to hold herself together while every thread flayed and every seam pulled apart.
She was a mixture now. Of her own anger, which Adora knew. She’d seen it so often when they were younger. When she felt cornered by bullies, by teachers, by Weaver. When she’d had to fight for herself with tooth and claw. Every detention, every slap on the wrist. Catra had worn that scowl, and Adora knew what it also held. Her pain. They had always painted her with that same brush. The rebellious troublemaker, always trying to get on someone’s bad side just to make enemies. Never paying attention in school, never putting her focus where it needed to be. She’d laughed it off so many times but Adora knew how it hurt her. How she’d hid behind the labels they gave her because they would never understand who she really was. They didn’t understand her smarts, or how bored she was. They never understood how creative she could be. Even when Adora had pointed it out, Catra had always fallen back onto her bad habits — lest she burn herself with anything else.
After all these years, it was all still there just beneath the surface. That hurt. With it came her grief, tickling at the edges. Adora wanted to reach out and pull her in close, to push all of that away before it bubbled up anymore. But this couldn’t just be wiped away like a tear on a cheek. This had rooted itself deep into Catra’s heart, poisoning.
“You think I wouldn’t pick you?” Adora questioned.
“Why would you?” Catra replied with a shrug. “It would be selfish, right? To pick what you want for once? Princess She-Ra doesn’t get to have that.”
Something washed across her face then — a resignation — and where Adora had thought she saw a glint earlier, she now saw a sparkle in the corner of Catra’s eyes.
“Princess She-Ra doesn’t get to have anything, because Princess She-Ra is only what they want her to be.”
Adora was stunned into silence. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, still holding onto Catra’s sad eyes. They were pleading with her — please deny it. How could she when the weighted truth was just that? It had been inflicting her for her entire adult life. Adora had accepted it a long time ago once she’d fitted into their desired role for her. They had taken everything she’d ever wanted away from her, what other option did she really have? It was easy when it felt impossible to get any of it back.
But then she had Catra, the antithesis to all of that. In stolen moments and quiet conversations, hiding behind closed doors. In sheepish glances and knowing smiles, whispered I love you’s and secret kisses. She finally had a taste of what she really wanted, of something that was truly her’s. Maybe they were only the smallest of moments, stitched in between her appearances and responsibilities, but they still meant something to her. No matter how short their time was together, Adora treasured it. If only because it was the only happiness she found within her life.
Maybe it wasn’t what Catra wanted, but Adora would always find herself picking Catra where she could. That had to count for something, right?
She searched for the confidence, for the words to explain all of that, but her silence dragged on too long. Catra’s head dropped, a hand rubbing at her face. “God,” she breathed out, her tone finally back to something with more control, even if it was laced with an exhaustion. “I am so tired of pretending.”
Another spike of panic surged through Adora. “Pretending what?
The hand was dropped, her head was raised, and Adora saw someone who had worn themselves thin. “Pretending like we have a future.”
As if Adora’s heart couldn’t take anymore pain. “What?” Her body jolted forward, unable to control the want to bridge that gap between them. Catra straightened herself, chin tilted upwards, and Adora had to once again hold herself back. “Why wouldn’t we have a future?!”
Catra’s brow crinkled and the slightest wobble in her chin betrayed certainty. “What kind of future could we possibly have like this, Adora?” Her voice broke half way through her words. “When is it going to change?”
Once again, Adora felt speechless. Her heart kept up its too-fast rhythm, panic fuelling its burn. She could see exactly where Catra was going with this line of thought. She could see the end of the tunnel, could see perfectly what was awaiting them if she didn’t diverge the course. Too bad the cogs in her mind weren’t working hard enough against the nervous fog clouding her thoughts. “I…”
“See, even you don’t know,” Catra jumped back in, spitting her words with cruelty. She perhaps heard it herself, and she pulled her tone back to something more cynical as she went on. “What would it take? What would have to change?”
The question was laid before her, giving Adora the perfect opportunity to try and steer them somewhere else. She pushed her mind into overdrive, thinking past her uneven breaths and the way her ears were still loud with her heart. Past the fog and the nerves and the anxiety. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” she stammered unhelpfully. “It’s so much more complicated than that—”
“It’s always going to be more fucking complicated!” Catra interrupted, her cry hurting.
“I know, Catra, I know,” Adora quickly tumbled out, taking another step forward. Once again Catra reacted by tensing herself up, somehow pushing herself backwards into the sofa to keep that distance between them. Adora fell back on one foot, apologetic in her eyes. “I know it’s always going to be complicated but that doesn’t mean we can’t work something out. This isn’t never, we have time, but— Well, you know what they’re like.”
“Oh, do I now?” Catra mocked. “Do I know what they’re fucking like?”
Adora blinked, shocked by the question and the attitude that came with it. She thought it had been obvious. Her own question came hesitant, terrified of saying the wrong thing. “Don’t you?”
Catra’s eyebrows raised up. “Maybe you should enlighten me.”
The pressure increased around Adora’s lungs, a recognised panic deep inside of her. “It’s not like I can just be with anyone I want, Catra,” she explained slowly. “They have to be careful, they have to be calculated. Image means everything to them and they have to make sure that if She-Ra is with someone then that person has to be right for that.”
She tried to be as honest as possible, tried to be diplomatic. Tried to say it in the most basic terms so Catra understood the difficulties she was facing. Instead, Adora saw the exact moment she messed up.
Catra’s heart broke, painting across her face. “I’m not right for that?” she questioned, voice cracking. “I love you and I’m not right for that?”
“No, no, it’s not like that,” Adora quickly defended, words tumbling over each other. “It’s not about whether you love me or not, Catra, it’s your image.”
She frowned again. “What about my image?”
Adora exhaled, shaky, and shifted her weight back and forth between her feet. Once again she barrelled forward, trying to get as many words out as quickly as possible to make Catra understand. “It’s not exactly the values the Eternian Court wants to promote. You’re so opinionated and outspoken and stand up for what you believe in. Here you are, the rebellious rockstar persona with millions of fans ready to back your word, and they’re not going to like that. Popstars and politics don’t always mix.”
A flash of anger pooled over Catra’s face again. “Oh, so it’s my career’s fault we can’t be together then?”
Adora’s face fell, a warning going off in her head that she’d failed her own fear of saying the wrong thing. “No. No, no, no, no— that’s not what I meant—”
“To have you I’d have to quit everything, is that it?!”
“No, Catra, no!” Adora took another step forward, and despite Catra’s usual reaction, Adora didn’t care this time. She’d messed up, she’d spewed out words without thinking and she’d hurt. She wasn’t going to let Catra think this way though. Not this, anything but this. “I’d never ask you to give up your dream, never. We’ll figure something else out.”
Catra’s anger on her face knitted together with confusion. “...My dream?”
“You’ve worked so hard for this,” Adora continued, rambling forward as she took the last step between them. Her hands reached out, grabbing at one of Catra’s as she tried to push herself further back into the sofa — but there was only so far back she could go. “Showing everyone exactly what you’re capable of, proving them all wrong. Don’t let anyone take that from you, not even me. Okay? Because even when we weren’t together, I was so proud of you for that. I was so proud of you.”
Catra’s eyes flicked back and forth between Adora’s, struggling to pick which one to look into. She still looked bewildered by Adora’s current rambling stream. Adora wasn’t sure why until she spoke. “What…?” And then there it was. Something clicked, a light switch flicked on, and Catra’s eyes lit up with understanding as she finally realised what Adora was referencing. “Adora, being a rockstar was never my dream!”
Now it was Adora’s turn to look confused. “But… you said… When we were kids…”
“Well I was lying, obviously!”
The exclamation felt like a burn, Catra’s hand suddenly too hot to touch. Adora dropped it, blinking in surprise and her confusion as she pulled herself back. She felt as though she had been hit with something, and Catra still just glared at her for something she’d done wrong. Was it that? Believing in her childhood dream? Adora felt as though a rug had been pulled out from under her and yet Catra was the one to bear the look of offence.
Catra ran her hand up through her short hair and down the back of her neck, sighing before setting herself hard again. “Fuck, Adora, all of this? All of this was to make up for everything else! I only became a rockstar because I wasn’t with you.”
Adora was stunned. “…What?”
She exhaled sharply, holding Adora’s stare still, and when she still only saw that confusion looking back at her, she powered on with whatever fuel was burning her now. “Don’t you get it? I never cared about where we ended up! I didn’t care if we ended up rich or poor or whatever else because none of that really mattered to me. All that mattered was that I would be with you. You were my fucking dream, Adora, all I ever wanted was you!”
She sucked in air as soon as she stopped, holding her breath. Adora felt just as breathless, frozen in spot as she let every single word of Catra’s sink in. Her whole understanding of the past decade was suddenly wrong. Even from her distance, she’d watched with a bittersweet smile as Catra worked her way up to the top. From being the breakout star, to winning awards upon awards, multiple best selling albums, one of the biggest names in music history. All of it had been warm to watch only because Adora had thought Catra was making good on even the craziest dreams. That even when Adora had doubted her, Catra had made good on her word. She’d been happier than ever to be proven wrong.
In reality, Adora was wrong again, all for very different reasons. Catra had fished out a life of success because what she’d truly wanted had been taken from her in the blink of an eye. Adora’s chest felt tight, and all of her nerves and anxieties in that swirling stomach of hers turned into a sickness. How unhappy had Catra really been?
Catra tried to hold on, but her bottom lip started to tremble again, and what had started as a glint that turned into a sparkle was now a sheen in her eyes. She pulled her tearful eyes away and pushed away from the sofa, turning to walk around it. She slumped herself down into one of the armchairs, falling into it deep as she buried her face into one hand, propped up against an armrest.
If Adora had felt lost before, now she felt deserted. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, dropped in the centre and told to find her way home.
She kept watching Catra, something stinging at her eyes as well. What had exploded moments ago and suddenly gone quiet, muted into a misery that sunk to their feet. The room buzzed with that low energy.
“Catra…” Adora said quietly, tentative and scared. Catra responded at least, bringing her fingers down from her eyes so that she was only covering her mouth. Those tear filled eyes stared back at her, watching as Adora began to walk towards her. As soon as she was close enough, Adora reached out to set her hand on top of Catra’s other that laid upon the armrest. Her knees lowered her body to kneel down before the chair, looking up at Catra with sadness.
She wasn’t going to let it end like this.
Squeezing Catra’s hand, she swallowed down her woes and tried again. “It’s not your fault. Okay, none of this will ever be your fault. We can still figure something out.”
Catra pulled her hand from her face completely, and finally Adora could see all of her sorrow on full display. She wasn’t trying to hide it anymore, wasn’t trying to hold herself in some dignified detached version of herself. She let it paint her features, and Adora had never seen her so heartbroken.
“How long will that take?” she quizzed. “How long would we have to wait?”
Adora’s mouth opened and closed, open and closed, until she could find her disheartening words. “I don’t know. I— …I need to figure out what to do with the Runestones first but then after that. After that I will figure this out.”
Catra rolled her eyes away, staring at a spot behind Adora. “Cool, great, good to know.”
Adora squeezed harder. “Catra—”
“No, Adora,” she replied viciously, and her lips curled back to reveal fangs and teeth. “I need more. I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep hiding. That’s all we’ve ever had! Your Court, Weaver, it’s all the same. I don’t want to have to go back in the closet for this.”
Can’t. Adora felt hung up on that word. It was as if Catra had already made up her mind. She’d festered too much, for too long on her own, and she was planting herself down in the end zone without having spoken a word of it to Adora first. It was unfair. It felt like an impossible battle going up against Catra’s stubbornness.
But Adora could be just as stubborn, and she wasn’t about to let this go so easily.
“I’m not asking you to be in the closet, Catra,” Adora said, and she hardened her tone in hopes that it would make Catra listen more. She reached for Catra’s other hand, pulling both of them down into her lap. It seemed to shock her, her attention back on Adora as she sat up higher on her knees, getting closer. “Listen to me, please. I know how difficult it is. It’s just as difficult for me and there is nothing I want more than to be with you every day. It’s not right now but it can be in the future, I know it can. I’m betting on it. I will do everything in my power to make sure we get that but I need you to be with me on this. Please, let me fix this.”
Catra was already shaking her head, so quick to dismiss as if she were too scared to let herself risk it. As soon as Adora stopped talking she sat herself forward, coming into Adora’s personal space. “There’s nothing to fix, Adora, this is just how it is. We’re on different paths.”
“That’s not true!” Adora argued. She searched Catra’s eyes for any weakness, for any disbelief in her own words, hoping that there was something in there that she could cling onto. She was practically begging for her to listen, to hold on for just a little longer. They had to have more faith than this. “Maybe we went down different paths but we managed to find each other again. All these years later and look where we are now. I love you, Catra. I love you so much.”
Catra’s expression faltered at those words. A break in her cynical character. Is that all she had to hear? A reminder of what Adora’s feelings truly were? That this wasn’t just some fun she cashed in on every few months but something so much deeper? Her thumbs stroked over the back of Catra’s hands, trying to tell her through touch alone that those feelings were right, that that was where her heart was. With Catra, always.
Those mismatched eyes glanced down to their hands, uncertainty still painting her features. But her fingers gripped tighter to Adora’s, her claws digging into flesh until it became painful, but Adora didn’t pull away.
She just looked at her with pity. “How long have you been living with this?”
Catra bit down on her lip with a fierce pressure, her eyes welling up until they danced with tears. She blinked once, and drops trickled down her cheeks. She was first in pulling a hand back, wiping them away before Adora got the chance to. “Does it matter?” she squeaked out as she rubbed at her cheeks.
“Of course it matters,” Adora soothed. “All of it matters, you matter. You get that, right?”
“I don’t know,” Catra exhaled, and then she was crying more and wiping at more tears and flexing her fingers between Adora’s grip. She couldn’t sit still, she couldn’t be comfortable as she struggled with her words. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”
“Do you know how happy you make me?” Adora’s tone shifted, something light and happy trying to come through, but it was hindered as Adora felt her own tears immediately creeping in her eyes. The bottom of her vision clouded with the wobbling drops, not enough to stop her from seeing the way Catra’s expression softened with that one word. “Do you know how often I think of you and smile when we’re apart? Do you know you’re the best thing in my life?”
“That’s because you hate your life, Adora,” came Catra’s dry response, toned down and grim with cynicism. She lowered her gaze to where their hands were still joined. “It’s all just fake. It’s not you.”
“So be my brightness,” her plea came. “Be my one good thing. I want it to be you.”
Catra stayed silent, but from Adora’s lowered angle she could see the wavering of her lips, the shaking of her chin. More tears dropped, but this time they dropped down onto their hands, onto the back of her own. She challenged her own breaths, trying to control them again, but it was obvious to Adora that Catra was still battling whatever was poisoning her mind. What was it, something she had said? Something someone else had said? When had this been dripped into her mind? How long had she been fighting it for?
She had the feeling that if she tried asking tonight, she wouldn’t get the answer to that. So Adora asked her something else.
“Catra, what do you want?”
Because this wasn’t a one way street. Adora could beg and plead as much as she wanted, she could lay her heart out with all of her softest wishes and her most pleasant thoughts, but none of it mattered if Catra wanted something else. Her heart drummed away in her chest, the nerves bubbling up, scared of what the answer might be and hearing the opposite of her wishes.
Finally with a shaky breath came a whispered confession. “I want you to stay.”
Adora almost choked, relief flooding her system as her heart skipped a beat. She gripped a little tighter to Catra’s hand, squeezing all of her relief into her. One hand broke away, snaking up around the back of Catra’s neck to pull her in. Adora pressed their foreheads together, locked into a space that was only them. Catra still kept her eyes down, but she could feel the slightest pressure in her head — the feeling of Catra pressing into her too.
“Catra… You are my home. I will always return to you, but only if you let me. Don’t push me away. Give me the chance to fix this, I want to fix this. Please. Give me that chance. I want to make this right by you. Please.”
Catra’s laboured breaths shuddered, and Adora tried to sooth her once again by stroking a thumb against the short hairs on the back of her neck. She just needed to hear one small yes, some affirmation that Catra wasn’t giving up on them yet.
Her voice came out small, but her one word was so loud in Adora’s ears that she’d feel it imprinted in her mind forever. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
Catra almost broke into a sob, pressing herself harder against Adora’s forehead, like she couldn’t stand even the smallest of spaces between them. Without much thought, Adora pulled her other hand up to Catra’s neck as well, trapping them both into that confined space. She closed her eyes, content to just be one with Catra for the moment. Breathing her in, feeling her through the smallest of touches. She could feel the involuntary shudders, the cracks in Catra’s throat as she swallowed down her sobs, the way her shoulders tightened and loosened over and over. She needed safety and if that was the one thing Adora could give to her at that moment, then Adora was going to do everything she could to give her that.
After holding that position for some minutes, Adora finally pulled herself away, trying to catch Catra’s eyes. They shone with her tears still, her cheeks stained, but they had stopped falling for the moment. One hand slid from her neck to her cheek, a thumb caressing it carefully.
“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” she offered her gently. In the state she was in, sleep was the only thing that would make Catra feel better. She needed to rest her head, to let herself reset against her woes — and whatever else she’d put in her system earlier that night.
Too bad Catra didn’t look so convinced. Adora pulled herself further away, her hands the only thing still keeping them connected. She slid them down Catra’s arms, taking her by the hands again as she tried to coax her to follow. At least Catra kept that eye contact, but she held a look of inner conflict. Her body stayed rigid, stuck in place on the armchair as if this was the only place she could be safe. Her eyes, however, held a longing. Wishing to keep that contact, finding her safety in that instead. Adora tried to reassure her through her stare as well. It’s okay, I’ll keep you safe.
She got to her feet and lightly tugged on Catra’s hands.
Catra went with her.
Adora nodded to her, offering her the smallest of smiles as she pulled her closer. She still looked so sad, so fragile, like any sudden movement might break her. With that in mind, Adora moved them slowly. She walked herself backwards, hoping that her muscle memory of Catra’s home was better than she was imagining it was. It didn’t matter if she bumped the backs of her legs into something, not when she was trying to say I love you with her eyes alone.
They shuffled from the study like that, Adora having to open the door behind her blindly. The bedroom wasn’t too far away, but Adora had to steer herself down the right hallway, still guiding Catra by her hands. Her eyes held, hypnotised. Even as they started to waver, Catra couldn’t let herself look away. They were stuck like that, only existing with each other.
Adora bumped back into the door of Catra’s bedroom. She reluctantly let go of her hand to fumble behind her for the handle to let them in. She was semi-aware of the cat slipping past her legs, but she was more focused on keeping Catra with her as they entered the room.
Another flashback came to her mind — of a time so many months ago, when Catra had been so careful with her. Pouring her a bath and bathing her skin, soaking her hair, washing her with gentle hands. She remembered how such gentle acts, so mundane in their being but so intimate when performed by someone else, had brought her to tears. Maybe she couldn’t offer that exactly, but she could try her damndest to get somewhere close.
So she directed them towards Catra’s wardrobe. She’d had a chance to glance around it the last she had visited, but had not nearly familiarised herself with the entire space. Still expansive for every side of Catra’s personality, but she didn’t need to know where Catra kept every side of herself tonight.
They came to a stop inside the wardrobe. Catra stayed silent, but something had changed. Though the sadness still lingered, her hurt still shining true, they were now accompanied by trust. Adora focused on that as her hands let go of Catra’s, running back up her arms until they reached her shoulders. She was hesitant as she slipped her fingers under the suspenders but when no resistance came she pulled them down each arm, letting them hang from Catra’s slacks. Her fingers then fumbled with her shirt, unbuttoning down, and once the shirt was gone she helped remove her binder safely. Piece by piece she helped Catra undress, baring her down. This was intimate, as Catra allowed her vulnerability to show, as Adora learned more of her body and how it moved. How thankful she felt that Catra allowed this of her. She folded up the clothes, leaving them to the side until the morning. Adora at least knew where to find cropped vests and bed shorts, and she stole a pair for herself at the same time to change into. Soon enough they were matching, Catra in a dark grey set while Adora wore black.
Once they were done, she slipped an arm around Catra’s waist and directed her to the bathroom. This room was entirely too bright compared to where they’d spent the evening, light on every surface, bouncing right back at them. She steered them into the sink, keeping Catra in front of her so she was trapped between Adora’s front and the edge of the counter.
They fell back into that domestic dance, bodies moving together with the mundane. Adora picked out toothbrushes, slipping one into Catra’s fingers and urging her to continue the motions. She did, and they stood against each other like that, eyes catching in the mirror as they brushed. The choreography of their routine played out. Hands brought water to faces, rubbed moisturiser cream into skin. Adora’s fingers found themselves on Catra’s neck, rubbing in the excess that she’d missed.
Once they were done, Adora twisted Catra around so they were finally face to face. She took a clean glass on the counter and filled it with cold water left to run at high pressure. The filled cup was held up to Catra’s lips, who eventually took the hint in taking the glass herself to drink from. Adora held her close, one hand on her hip while the other barely touched the glass, making sure she downed every drip of it. Catra didn’t blink once, as if she were hypnotised by Adora’s commanding stare. Adora didn’t even have to say a word. As soon as Catra was done, Adora took hold of the glass once again and set it to the side.
Her hands went to caressing Catra’s face again, and Catra retaliated by leaning her body weight into their hips. Adora held them up like that as she searched Catra’s eyes. She was searching for something in particular. Regret. Disappointment. Guilt. She was searching for anything that might hint of a change of heart. She saw none of it, only the tiredness creeping in and every wretched sadness that had ever been conceived. How had it found its way in there? How could Adora scoop all of it out?
Adora wanted to say something, wanted to reassure Catra further, but all words that came to mind did not feel enough in that moment. There was nothing she could say that hadn’t already been said, nothing that would magically cure this situation and have them back to something normal. It filled her with her own anguish, fuelled by that incessant need to put everything right.
This should be the easiest to make right, but Adora had never felt so stuck.
Her shoulders deflated, and she tilted her head just a little as she offered Catra the smallest of kindnesses.
“You’re so good.”
Catra’s ears perked a little, her eyes dilating, and she made the smallest of whines at the back of her throat. The sound was so cute that Adora couldn’t help the smile that pulled on her lips. Her hands moved up, back, and her fingers found the place where Catra’s ears disappeared into her hair. She scratched lightly and the reaction was immediate. Catra’s eyes rolled back as her eyelids dropped down, and she pressed herself completely forward until she was tucking herself into the crook of Adora’s neck.
That was it then. Adora wrapped her arms around Catra and directed her out of the bathroom, walking backwards once again until she made it to the end of the bed. She crawled on backwards, Catra following with no question, hovering above her. As soon as she’d found her place down on the pillows, Catra was curling into her side. They tucked into each other, Adora wrapping her arms around Catra and continuing her soothing scratches, lulling Catra off into a restful sleep while purring into Adora’s chest.
She had to have fallen asleep quickly, Adora thought. Maybe even before Melog had found his way to the bed, jumping on and curling up beside Catra’s legs. Her breathing deepened, her purrs drifting into nothing, and where she’d clung with tension her limbs had loosened. Good, Adora thought. It was good that she’d found sleep easily enough.
Unlike Adora, who stared up at the ceiling and replayed the earlier conversation over and over in her head. Everything Catra had said, every insecurity she’d pulled at. It did nothing but worsen the sickness in her stomach, the nerves making it harder to fall into sleep. Adora had better things to be doing anyway than wasting her hours unconscious.
She was going to fix this. Whatever it took.
Notes:
teehee !!
the song catra was singing in this chapter had lyrics taken from "slow dancing" by aly & aj.
yes, by "an unnecessary amount of fucking" in the chapter summary i WAS referring to the amount of times catra said the word fuck and its varients. she needed to blow off some steam, i think we can all allow her to have a bit of a sailor's mouth this time around.
also, man, i feel bad for adora :/ all she wanted to do was bone her gf.
i HIGHLY suggest reaching me through my twitter if you want to talk about the chapter !! i also have an anonymous curious cat linked there if you would prefer to reach me there, but i love to hear all and every thought. tell me your favourite bits, i love hearing what different parts caught people the most 👀
thank you guys for reading, and once again for your patience for this chapter !! love u lots, mwah
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