Chapter Text
It’s been a week, but remnants of the snow are everywhere.
Small hills of snow pushed out of the way by the snowplows across campus, patches of ice still lurking on paths between buildings that the sun doesn’t easily reach. Adora is walking carefully through the still occasionally icy parking lot of Catra’s apartment complex when she sees another girl absolutely wipe out on a patch of ice. She glances over long enough to make sure the girl is okay, but not long enough to alert the girl that she saw anything. She makes her way to Catra’s apartment, even more aware of the potential dangers.
Another remnant of the snow is more tangible, more tactile. Catra has been cautious with Adora until now, usually letting Adora initiate any physical touch apart from the occasional hug, but she’s more comfortable now, less tentative. She hugs Adora when she sees her and when they say goodbye, and when she got back an A on one of her final projects yesterday, she got so excited that she grabbed Adora’s knee and squealed.
“It was so hard! I hated every second of it! Oh my god, I crushed it.”
Her enthusiasm and satisfaction with herself made Adora laugh, and Catra’s hand on her knee gave her a pleasant thrill even under the warmth of the blanket they were sharing.
The day after Catra went home after the snow days, she called Adora, her anxiety evident even through the phone.
“Are you sure you still want me to come?”
Adora is used to this from when they were younger. Catra always had to be sure she wasn’t being an imposition or she had a hard time doing certain things.
“I’m completely sure.”
“And you asked Mara?”
“I did, and she’s very excited, and she’s probably already baking something for you, so there’s really no going back now.”
Catra laughed softly, then quieted. “Did you—did you tell her? About what I told you?”
Adora shook her head even though Catra couldn’t see her. “No, I didn’t. I can, if you want, I just—I didn’t want to take that decision from you, I guess.”
“I really appreciate that.”
“Yeah, of course.”
Catra paused for a moment. Then, “I really want to go, I just—I needed to be sure.”
Adora leaned into the phone, hoping Catra could feel her reassurance from there.
“I know. But believe me, we’re both very sure. And Hope is excited to meet you.”
There was a smile in Catra’s tone. “I’m excited to meet her, too. Also, I usually spend Christmas day with Scorpia and her moms, so I was thinking I’d spend half the day with them, and then half with all of you. Is that okay?”
Adora felt a jolt of excitement. They’ve never spent Christmas together before. In high school they always exchanged presents on Christmas Eve after Catra’s mom’s enormous holiday party, and after Adora got her license, usually in the middle of the night after both of their moms went to sleep. Adora drove to the spot a few blocks down from Catra’s house where they always met, and they sat in the car together, speaking in low tones even though no one else was around. Without ever expressly deciding on it, they gave each other things they made, or found, or something important to them that they wanted the other to have.
It’s what Adora always associates with this time of year, even after all this time. Catra walking towards her on a cold, clear night, a small package in her hands in the lingering hours between Christmas Eve and morning.
“That sounds great to me,” Adora said.
Catra exhaled, and it was a good sound, like she got the peace of mind she was looking for.
Now, Adora is here at Catra’s apartment for one more study session before their last respective finals. It’s been a long day, but Adora just wants to be in Catra’s company, even if she has to make her already exhausted brain study just a little bit longer. She’s only indirectly acknowledging it, not letting the thought form fully in her mind, but on the car ride over, Adora realized that she was really looking forward to the hug she’s going to get.
Catra hears Adora knock on her apartment door and a flutter climbs from her stomach to her heart, rising in her throat. This has been happening more and more since last week, and it’s entirely inconvenient, really, and Catra is only getting worse at tamping it down. She misses Adora when she doesn’t see her, even if it’s only for a couple of days, and she’s drawn to her even more now, the push and pull they’ve always had intensified in a way that makes Catra want to be closer to Adora even when she’s right next to her.
The truth broke something, but in a good way. Broke years of silence, and pain, gave both of them permission to breathe easier than they were before. To be easier with themselves, and with each other. To continue to get back some of the effortlessness they once had with each other.
Catra opens the door and Adora is waiting on the other side, cheeks pink from the whipping wind, and she turns her brilliant smile on Catra.
“Hey, Adora.”
“Hey, Catra.”
They reach out at the same time and pull each other into a hug. Adora holds Catra, securely, and Catra sinks into it a little more than she planned. Catra reluctantly moves away first, and Adora has this dopey smile on her face that Catra might normally make fun of, but she’s having a little trouble talking at the moment. Instead, she grabs Adora’s hand and leads her towards Catra’s room.
“Come on. Let’s get this over with so we can think about something other than school for a while.”
Adora groans, allowing herself to be tugged along. “It feels like it won’t happen. Like we’ll be stuck in this awful loop of studying for a final, and then taking the final, and then studying for another final, forever .”
“So dramatic. Come on, I bought that chocolate you like.”
Adora gasps. “You did?”
“Yes, I did,” Catra laughs. “It doesn’t have to be all doom and gloom.”
They settle on the large, plush rug on the floor of Catra’s room and Adora begins her usual process of shaking everything out of her backpack and onto the floor.
“Your anatomy textbook scares me,” Catra says, watching Adora flip through pages full of charts and diagrams.
“That makes two of us.”
“Oh, please. You’re gonna ace it.”
Adora rolls her eyes, but she’s pleased.
They both go silent, Catra editing a paper and Adora flipping through her flashcards.
When Adora’s phone rings, she doesn’t jump, and so neither does Catra. In fact, Adora doesn’t hesitate to pick up the call right in front of Catra, which she’s never done before.
“Hello? Hey, Mama!”
Catra feels a little awkward, like she’s eavesdropping, even though Adora is talking right in front of her. And there’s some nervousness, knowing she’s going to see Mara soon after more than three years, even though Adora says Mara is excited to see her.
“Studying,” Adora says into her phone. “I’m at Catra’s place.”
Adora suddenly looks up at Catra.
“Yeah, I think so. Let me ask.”
Adora takes her phone away from her ear.
“Mom wants to talk to you.”
Catra stills, unsure of what she even wants to do. But Adora is smiling at her, and that makes Catra feel that it can’t be bad. So she accepts the phone from Adora’s outstretched hand.
Without a word, Adora stands and slips out of Catra’s room, leaving her alone with Mara on the other end of the call. Catra raises the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” Her voice comes out steady somehow, even though timid.
Mara’s voice, unbelievably gentle, travels through the phone.
“Hi, baby.”
Catra is glad she’s alone. She starts crying, surprising herself, and she can’t speak at first.
Mara hums, a comforting sound in Catra’s ear. “It’s okay, honey. You’re coming to see me?”
Catra sniffles, coming down a bit from the initial surge of emotion. “Yeah, I’m coming to see you.”
“I made a pie!”
Catra laughs from deep in her chest, a laugh that feels like a release.
“What kind?”
“That’s a surprise! You’re going to have to wait and see.”
Catra smiles. “At least I don’t have to live too long in suspense.”
Mara laughs. “When are you two leaving?”
“Tomorrow after breakfast, I think. Both our finals are really early, so I think we’re just going to eat after and then drive down.”
“Excellent. Text me when you two are on your way, okay?”
“We will.”
They say goodbye and Catra takes a good 10 minutes to herself after the phone call, holding Adora’s phone in her hand as if Mara is still on the other end, deep, effortless breaths filling her lungs. She walks out of her room to see Adora standing in the kitchen, enjoying the chocolate Catra promised her earlier. Catra’s eyes might be a little red, but Adora doesn’t mention it, just hands her a glass of water and smiles. Catra accepts it, taking a sip, holding Adora’s phone out to her.
“Do you want to get waffles after our finals tomorrow?” Adora asks.
“God, yeah. That might actually get me through it.”
Adora steps forward and gathers Catra into her arms, and Catra curls into it, letting Adora’s strong arms support her. She wouldn’t have done this even a couple of weeks ago. It feels so natural now, though, to be close like this.
“We’re gonna get through it,” Adora says.
------
Both of their finals are at 7 am, and the only thing Catra can think about is the fact that waffles and Adora await her on the other side of it.
Catra finishes her biology final first and heads back to her apartment to wait for Adora, who’s coming to pick her up when she’s done with her own exam. Catra sits in her living room with her duffle bag next to her, feeling like she’s waiting on the bleachers at EHS for Adora to be done with soccer practice and drive them both home.
Scorpia and Entrapta bustle around the apartment, getting ready to leave for break. Entrapta is about to leave for Dryl, her tiny hometown up in the mountains that’s about two hours away. As usual, she appears to be packing most of the contents of her room to take with her, even dragging one of her monitors out the apartment door and down the stairs, with Catra’s help.
Scorpia isn’t leaving until later because she still has one more final this afternoon, and she’s overjoyed that Catra is going home with Adora. Catra usually spends most of winter break at their apartment, enjoying the alone time and cooking while playing music too loudly, then heading back to Etheria on Christmas morning to Scorpia’s moms’ house for the day. Catra took pains to assure Scorpia that she was still going to be with them on Christmas Day, and Scorpia beamed, scooping Catra into a big hug. Scorpia and her moms are important to Catra, and not being with them on the holiday would make her sad.
When Adora arrives, that feeling Catra has of being 17 and Adora picking her up to go for a drive hits her hard, and the tumbling of her heart at the sight of Adora carrying her bag down the stairs and out to the car in the tight jeans hugging her hips doesn’t help at all . What does help, though, is that Adora is still drowsy from her early morning, folding Catra into a sleepy hug, unaware of the effect she’s having on Catra’s nerves.
“You ready?” Adora asks, chin resting on the top of Catra’s head.
“For waffles? Absolutely.”
Adora chuckles. “Me, too.”
The diner is chilly inside because the heat is in and out, but they stay anyway, bundled in their coats and scarves, using the steam from their coffee to warm their hands. Catra thinks she hasn’t been happier than she is right now in a long time, sipping subpar coffee across from Adora, who’s telling her all about the 26 bones, 30 joints, and 100-plus muscles in the human foot in between bites of her hashbrowns.
Adora’s messy bun looks like it’s about to fall down any second, and she keeps swiping her bangs out of her face. Catra wants to reach across and tuck the errant strands behind Adora’s ear.
Turning onto Adora’s street is a time machine, but not in a bad way. It doesn’t make Catra feel like something is clawing at her throat, trying to pull her under, like coming back to their hometown twice a year sometimes makes her feel. Instead, the sight of the house coming into view is like a soft blanket settling on her shoulders.
They leave their bags in the car to come back for later. An electric, breathless feeling comes over Catra, and she can’t pretend anymore that she’s just going to Adora’s house. This is a homecoming, and they both know it.
Adora sidles up next to Catra and gives her arm a quick squeeze, winking at her. Catra smiles back at her, heart fluttering with suspense, and something else. They walk up the front steps of the porch and Adora opens the front door.
“Mama?” Adora calls out into the house.
“In here, my love!”
Deja vu hits Catra with a force that threatens to knock her over. She’s 14 years old again and she’s following her new friend that makes her feel wobbly like jelly into the prettiest, coziest house she’s ever seen. Everything smells like she remembers. Like cinnamon and orange. She and Adora kick off their shoes at the same spot near the staircase where they always left them when they got home from school. The floorboards in the living room squeak in exactly the same place as Catra walks over them.
“We’re home!” Adora says when she walks into the kitchen and Mara scoops her into a big hug. The truth of this pronouncement isn’t lost on Catra as she enters the warm light of the kitchen after Adora.
Mara’s whole being lights up as soon as she sees Catra, like someone walked into a dark room and turned on a light she didn’t know was there.
“Oh, my love !” Mara exclaims, arms wide, reaching for Catra to hug her.
Mara’s head is wrapped in a dark purple scarf and half-moon shadows underline her eyes, but she still looks like herself. Catra takes in Mara’s sweet, open face, a face that always held love and pride for her. She sees that same love and pride now, mixed with something else.
Relief.
Catra feels a wave of guilt crash into her, bowed under the weight of it.
Was she worried about me?
Catra lets Mara bring her close, the familiar scent of lavender that she always associated with Mara wafting over her. Catra thinks she might choke on the emotion rising up in her, Mara’s hands rubbing her back. She’s thinner than Catra remembers and it makes Catra feel suddenly and fiercely protective.
“You’re here,” Mara whispers.
Catra squeezes Mara as tightly as she can without worrying about hurting her.
“I’m here.”
Mara pulls away and holds Catra’s arms, looking her over as if to double check that she really is, that she’s present and whole.
“Hope, this is Catra.”
Hope is a tall, slim woman with long, silvery blonde hair. She has an incredible sense of calm about her, almost ethereal.
Hope extends her hand to Catra who takes it, Hope’s grip light, but sure.
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Catra. These two have talked of nothing else,” she smiles, inclining her head towards Mara and then Adora.
Mara laughs and squeezes Catra’s shoulders affectionately, and Catra is satisfied to see that Adora is blushing.
As Adora fills in Mara and Hope on the drive home, Catra takes stock of the kitchen, the room she probably spent the most time in as a teenager, other than Adora’s room. The same lightcatcher is in the window over the sink. The same yellow dishes she ate dinner off of every weekend for three years are sitting in the drying rack. The same pictures are on the fridge, like the one of Adora as a toddler standing in a mop bucket that made her laugh hysterically when she first noticed it years ago. It makes Catra’s eyes sting and her throat tighten.
“Let’s go grab our bags,” Adora says, her hand lightly rubbing Catra’s arm. Catra realizes that she’s been lost in her reverie, quietly looking around, and she’s self-conscious for a second.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
Mara pats Catra’s shoulder as she walks by and just that small gesture makes Catra feel like she might cry. From what, she isn’t sure yet. Maybe relief, maybe happiness. Probably both.
Catra and Adora take their bags upstairs, the creaking steps flooding Catra’s mind with memories of snack runs on late nights when she and Adora stayed up most of the night giggling, talking about nothing she can remember now, except for the fuzzy feelings the memories carry with them. Adora’s room hasn’t changed all that much, although there’s a new light green bedspread, and a mass of white pillows stacked against the headboard. The unicorn poster is gone, as is most of the horse paraphernalia. Catra actually misses it a little, which is why she’s happy to see a single figurine of a unicorn with orange hair and multicolored wings on the shelf above Adora’s desk.
“I see Swift Wind still has his place of honor,” Catra says, setting her duffle bag down next to Adora’s bed.
Adora grins. “Of course he does. I couldn’t very well take him down, could I?”
Catra laughs. “Of course not.”
Mara grabs them both as soon as they come back downstairs. “Porch time!” she declares, leading them both out to the front of the house.
The four of them sit on the enclosed front porch, the small space heater providing more than enough warmth, for a long time. Catra sits in one of the rocking chairs next to Hope and across from Mara and Adora on the porch swing where Mara hugs and kisses Adora in between a stream of questions about BMU, soccer, and Bow and Glimmer. Adora visibly relaxes now that she’s with her mom, resting her head on Mara’s shoulder, telling her everything she can think of that she hasn’t already told her over the phone in the last week.
Mara eventually turns to Catra. “What about you, honey? How did your finals go?”
Catra appreciates the softball question, and she answers as fully as Adora did, telling Mara about her annoying biology professor, as well as the paper she wrote that she’s proud of. Mara listens to Catra like she always has, with her full attention and encouraging facial expressions.
They eat dinner together, and the worn wood of the kitchen table under Catra’s fingers triggers a string of sensory memories of countless weekend breakfasts and dinners with Mara and Adora. She could swear that, just for a second, she smells chocolate chip muffins and fresh coffee on an autumn morning.
Hope is a bit on the quiet side, but she has a genuine smile that transforms her fine features, and she and Mara hold hands for most of the night. Hope strokes Mara’s hand and refills her water glass every time it gets low.
Everyone gushes over Mara’s apple pie, and Catra thinks she might not have tasted anything this good since the last time she had Mara’s cooking.
“It’s the first thing I’ve baked in a long time,” Mara says, proudly, and Hope kisses her hand.
Hope and Adora get started on the dishes and Mara takes Catra’s hand.
“Let’s go sit,” she says, taking Catra’s hand in hers, and Catra follows. Mara leads her back to the porch, and this time she sits on the swing next to Mara. Mara tells her all about her garden, the one she began back in spring of last year. All the flowers she grows, like camellias, azaleas, and bluebells, reviving the garden she used to work in with her mother.
Mara suddenly turns to Catra. She looks tired, but content.
“I’m so glad you’re home.”
Mara says this like it makes perfect sense, and Catra is amazed that she feels the same way.
“I’m sorry, Mara,” she says.
Mara’s eyebrows knit together. “For what?”
For hurting Adora. For hurting myself. For making you worry. For everything.
“For not coming home sooner.”
Mara smiles, looping her arm around Catra, her hand guiding Catra’s head to rest on her shoulder. Catra relaxes into Mara and closes her eyes.
“What matters,” Mara says, “is that you came home.”
Adora is in her room, digging through her backpack for lip balm, when Catra steps out of the bathroom in her pajamas, hair damp from her shower. She’s not wearing a bra, and Adora makes herself look away, hoping Catra didn’t notice Adora’s gaze lingering.
Catra gathers her hair in her hands, scrunching it with a towel, and shuffles from one foot to the other.
“Um, so, where should I sleep?”
Adora actually prepared for this this time, so she’s ready.
“I mean . . . I was thinking, we can just share my bed, if you want. It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
Adora doesn’t want to worry herself or Catra over this, and something about being home makes her feel more relaxed, as if things that seemed like a big deal before just aren’t anymore. Like she can breathe.
Catra nods, smiling. “Okay.”
They sleep on the same sides of the bed that they always did when they were younger: Adora on the left side by the window, Catra on the right. Adora falls asleep first, like she always did when they were together.
Warm in Adora’s bed, filled with Mara’s food, safe in the place that still, years later, feels the most like home that any place ever did, Catra falls asleep.
The day of Catra’s 16th birthday, the day she got her scarf and her ring, Adora insisted she make a wish over those 16 candles on the cake Mara made.
“Hold onto that wish,” Mara told her then.
And she did. It was this.
------
Their days settle into a rhythm that lulls Catra into a calm she hasn’t felt in a long time.
Every morning, Hope makes French press coffee for everyone while Catra and Adora make breakfast. Mara needs to eat more plain foods, like pancakes or waffles with butter, so they usually make those, along with eggs and bacon. Overall, though, Catra can tell that Mara is doing well, all things considered. There’s color in her cheeks and she has enough energy for each day.
Catra is flipping pancakes one morning when Adora, reaching for plates in the cabinet above Catra, places her hand on the small of Catra’s back. Catra is so flustered and distracted by this that she burns a pancake.
Mara and Catra sit side by side on the porch swing while Mara sews a button back onto a coat, Catra reading out loud to her from one of Mara’s magazines. Mara has always had a fondness for celebrity gossip, and she asks Catra to read it out loud to both of them because, according to her, Catra has “a strong reading voice” that provides “gravitas.” Adora and Hope watch soccer together in the living room, the two of them occasionally yelling at something happening on the TV.
“I don’t get it,” Mara whispers conspiratorially.
“I don’t either,” Catra whispers back, and they both dissolve into laughter.
It’s late afternoon when the four of them pile into Hope’s truck to go get a tree. Catra feels like a little kid, sitting in the back with Adora, watching Mara fiddle with Hope’s radio to find something she likes.
The tree lot is golden from the sunset and the lights strung up above the Christmas trees of varying heights. They stroll up and down the pine-scented rows, pointing at one tree and then another. Hope plucks each tree from where it leans against the others and turns it around so Mara, Adora, and Catra can see it from every angle.
They select their tree and Hope gets it into the bed of the truck, Adora and Catra helping her secure it with bungee cords. They set up the tree in the living room in front of the window that faces the front yard, and as the tallest two present, Hope and Adora are tasked with winding the tiny white lights all the way to the top of the tree. Mara shakes out the tree skirt that her mom made when she was a little girl, and Adora places it around the base. Homemade ornaments from Adora’s childhood are dispersed among the branches alongside the embroidered hoop ornaments Mara makes.
The tree reflects on the glass of the window panes, shining from the front window towards the cars that pass on the road beyond.
------
Mara sends Adora and Catra to the store with an impressive list of groceries meant to last them all until Christmas, so they decide to split it, Adora making for the produce while Catra goes in search of the kind of bread Mara likes.
Adora selects the apples, sweet potatoes, and lemons that Mara plans to bake with over the next week. Mara has been doing really well lately, able to eat more and hold the food down, which is leaving her with more energy. Her doctors have all said that her body’s response to the chemo is encouraging, and Mara has also been energized by this, too. Adora wants to be encouraged, and she is , she really is, but she’s not ready to let her guard down over it.
Adora rounds the corner onto the next aisle and finds Catra, eyes wide and unfocused. She’s holding herself, her arms wrapped around her body, and she’s trembling. For a second, it’s as if a teenage Catra is standing in front of her, and Adora feels a surge of protectiveness, a certainty that she’ll do anything she can to shield Catra from whatever it is that’s making her look this panicked.
“Catra, what’s wrong?”
Catra doesn’t speak for a moment, and she takes a deep breath.
“I thought I saw—I thought I saw my mom. It wasn’t her, it just looked like her from the back for a second.”
Adora’s stomach plummets. It’s not like Adora and her mom ever ran in the same circles as Ms. Weaver, so even though she did think about the possibility of Catra’s mom being around town, she dismissed it, thinking they could probably avoid her. And they have, so far, but the look on Catra’s face makes Adora ache to defend her from anything and anyone who might try to hurt her. Adora reaches out to touch Catra’s shoulder, and Catra places her hand over Adora’s, seeming to appreciate the gesture.
“What can I do?” Adora asks.
Catra is still shaken, but she smiles a small smile. “I’ll be okay. Can we go?”
Adora nods. “Yeah, of course, we have everything. Come on.”
They check out quickly and take the groceries home, Adora watching Catra all the while. She’s particularly quiet as she helps Adora put everything away, until she turns to Adora and asks, “Can we go for a drive?”
Adora reaches out for Catra’s hand, who accepts it.
“I think that’s a great idea.”
Adora takes them to the new drive through coffee place and orders a latte for Catra and a hot chocolate for herself. They go to the park not too far from the house, parking in front of the lake, the water sparkling in the bright winter sun. They take off their seatbelts and push their seats back, Adora crossing her legs under herself like she always does to get comfortable.
Catra wants to tell her. She’s scared to expose herself like this, to show Adora every fractured, ugly, secret part that she’s kept hidden for a reason, for longer than she’s even known Adora. She doesn’t want Adora to think of her differently, to see her differently. But she does want Adora to see her, completely, so it might finally be time.
Adora sits quietly next to her, holding Catra’s hand. Catra reached out for Adora’s hand as soon as she parked the car, and Adora didn’t hesitate to thread their fingers together. Catra closes her eyes, steadying herself, then begins.
“Can I tell you about it?”
Adora squeezes her hand. “You can tell me anything.”
Catra believes her.
“My mom was never really like—well, like Mara is with you, I guess. We didn’t hug, or anything like that. We never said, ‘I love you.’ And she was always kind of aggressive, I guess? She’d shove me when she was annoyed or tired or something. But as I got older, it started getting . . . more. She started—hitting me. For everything. Not hard enough to leave a mark, at first, but enough to hurt. For moving the coffee maker to the left on the kitchen counter. For not putting the milk back in the same place in the fridge. For leaving a textbook on the dining room table. Anything could set her off. Especially over grades. I got a B-plus on some stupid fucking Algebra exam and she shook me. Hard. I was dizzy for an hour.”
Adora shifts noticeably in her seat, and she doesn’t let go of Catra’s hand.
Catra keeps going.
“Then, the night she saw us, after the bonfire, she—choked me. For a while. I couldn’t breathe and for a second I really, I really thought she might—”
Catra stops to breathe. Adora’s thumb strokes her hand.
“Senior year was . . . the worst it had ever been. I dreaded going home after school every day. I never knew what she—what would happen. I couldn’t anticipate it like I used to. Do you remember the day you found me in the bathroom? I was throwing up.”
Adora clutches her hand. “I remember.”
“I was so anxious, all the time. And because of that I was nauseated a lot of the time, too. It got to where sometimes I couldn’t keep food down.”
“And the thing is, it wasn't—it wasn’t bad all the time. Sometimes she would tell me she was p-proud of me. Sometimes she’d be so gentle with me, and I could never figure out how to get more of that, how to make that part of her . . . stay.”
“After I left for Scorpia’s, I saw her one more time. I went back to the house a few months later to get some things I left behind while Scorpia waited for me in the car. I kind of lost it on her. I was crying and screaming at her and I asked her what I did, what I—what I could’ve possibly done to make her treat me like that. Other than just being a lesbian, that is. She said that I’d never been anything more than a nuisance and a disappointment to her and that she was done with me.”
Catra has to stop to breathe, the sensation of a phantom hand tightening around her throat momentarily overwhelming her. She inhales and exhales once, twice. She closes her eyes and manages to continue.
“But you know what’s really fucked up? I haven’t spoken to her since then, and I don’t want to. And even with all of that, sometimes I still want her to love me.”
Catra has never said that part out loud to anyone except for a therapist. The shame of that, of still wanting the one love she knew she would never get, overwhelms her in the best of times. But saying it out loud here, now, actually makes that shame feel . . . smaller. Not insignificant, just more bearable.
Adora sniffles quietly beside her, still holding Catra’s hand, not letting go.
“When she made me end the friendship with you, all this anger I’d been holding back for years just . . . exploded. I was so angry, and I wanted to hurt myself, and you, and everyone else. I hated myself. I wanted to make everyone hurt like I hurt. So that’s what I tried to do. And the way I was to Scorpia and Entrapta . . . I was awful to them. Scorpia was the one who gave me the reality check I needed, but it was because she cared. They didn’t give up on me. Not once . I still wonder sometimes why they didn’t.”
“Because they love you,” Adora says.
Catra’s face crumples. “Yeah,” she says, her voice breaking. “They do.”
She turns towards Adora, looking at her for the first time since she started talking. Adora’s eyes are shining and rimmed with red. She looks desperately sad, but there’s no judgement there, no disgust, none of the bad things Catra’s brain told her might be there.
“I was so fucked up, Adora. I didn’t know up from down for a year. I started drinking a lot. Sometimes I barely made it to my classes. One weekend I just didn’t get out of bed, at all. Scorpia finally dragged me out of bed and made me shower, got me to eat something, and helped me call the counseling center. It wasn’t fast, and it was really fucking hard, but it started to help. And a lot of the time, I—I was thinking about you. How I’d fucked up so bad with you. And I wanted to call you, but I was sure you hated me. I thought I’d ruined everything with you, forever. I didn’t think you’d ever be able to forgive me. And I was so messed up over everything that happened with my mom, so I just . . . tried to disappear.”
“I never hated you.”
Catra’s heart constricts at the fierce conviction in Adora’s voice. Adora means it.
“You didn’t?”
“No. Not at all. I was just—sad. So sad. I wanted to help you. I just wanted you to let me in. But I know now why you didn’t.”
Adora reaches for Catra’s other hand, holding both of them now.
“I can’t believe I didn’t know. Everything you were hiding . . . we were together all the time. I can’t—I can’t believe I didn’t know. I should’ve known .”
“Adora, no. I hid it on purpose, and I was good at it.”
Adora’s voice is strained. “You must’ve been so scared.”
Catra nods. “I was also just—I was so ashamed.”
Adora looks confused. “Catra, why were you ashamed?”
Catra pauses, and when she continues, her voice is tiny and shaky.
“Because I was scared I deserved it.”
There’s a beat of silence. Then Adora speaks.
“Catra. Look at me.”
But Catra can’t. She keeps her head bowed, eyes trained on the gearshift between them.
Adora gingerly reaches out to touch Catra’s face, cradling her cheek. Adora repeats herself, softly.
“Look at me.”
Catra meets Adora’s eyes. Adora looks at Catra with so much care and empathy it makes Catra tremble. She doesn’t look away.
Adora holds her gaze. “You did not deserve it. No one deserves to be treated that way. Ever . It wasn’t your fault.”
A small fissure inside Catra closes. There are more cracks, more tender places that still need tending to. But one of them at least, with these words, mends.
The tears Catra has been fighting back rush forward, slipping quickly down her cheeks.
“I don’t want to be like her.”
Adora lets go of Catra’s hand, but only so she can hold Catra’s face in both her hands, brushing Catra’s tears away with her thumbs.
“You are nothing like your mom, Catra. Not at all. You were in pain for a long time, and that pain made you lash out, but that’s not who you are. You are good, and loving, and your heart is so big. I think—I think that’s why you feel things hard , harder than you sometimes know what to do with.”
Catra thinks that if it’s possible to be known, really known, at all, then that’s what she is with Adora. Known.
“You really think I’m good?” Catra asks.
Adora strokes Catra’s cheek gently, back and forth.
“Yes. I do.”
Catra smiles a watery smile.
“Okay, then.”
The chilly winter breeze creates ripples across the bright blue lake, and they exhale.
------
The small balcony attached to Adora’s room faces the backyard. Moonlight slants across the yard through the bare branches of the sugar maple trees beyond the edge of Mara’s garden.
“I can’t wait until you see it in the spring,” Adora told Catra earlier. “Mom and Hope spend hours out there together and it looks like a rainbow when everything blooms.”
Catra beamed at her. “I can’t wait, either.”
Adora loves picturing Catra here in the future.
Adora takes a long drink from the cheap bottle of red wine she threw in the cart at the grocery store at the last second. The wine warms her from her lips to her toes, the cold night air not so biting under the layers of quilts and blankets they dragged out here when they decided they wanted to sit outside and look at the stars on this clear, quiet night. She hands the bottle to Catra, who does the same.
They’re sitting close, leaning on each other under their blankets, thighs touching, Catra resting her cheek on Adora’s shoulder. Adora is a little sleepy and a little tipsy, and so is Catra. Adora doesn’t want Catra to move, so she reaches her arm behind Catra and holds her by her waist, hoping this is okay, ready to let go if Catra doesn’t want it, if she tenses at all. But Catra huddles closer, and Adora’s fears dissipate.
It’s been a while since either of them spoke, eyes trained on the sky.
“Thank you,” Catra says.
“For what?” Adora asks.
“For bringing me home.”
Adora rests her cheek on top of Catra’s head and lets out a happy sigh.
“Thank you for coming home.”
“I was scared,” Catra says, almost in a whisper.
“I know,” Adora replies. “Are you still scared?”
“No. It feels good. Really good. Right.”
Adora squeezes Catra’s hand under the blanket.
“You belong here.”
Catra gives a sharp intake of air, and Adora glances down at her to see her eyes shut tight, then open again.
“I missed you so much,” Catra whispers. “Sometimes I hated how much I missed you.”
It’s not as if Adora didn’t guess this, but hearing it is different.
“I missed you . It was all I could think about. For a long time.”
Adora brings Catra closer now, putting both arms around her, and they’re not pretending anymore, not pretending they don’t want to be close to each other. Catra burrows into Adora’s side, Adora’s hands clasped around Catra’s waist. Adora thinks this might actually, technically, constitute cuddling.
“I love the way you smell. You smell so good all the time,” Adora says suddenly, before the words have even formed in her mind, before she even knows she’s going to say them.
Catra laughs, surprised. “Wait, what do I smell like?”
Adora blushes. “Just . . . like you. Like Catra.”
“But what’s that like?”
“Sweet. Like . . . like clean sheets and mint.”
Catra turns her head towards Adora, looking up into her eyes. The moon through the trees casts shadows on Catra’s face, and it could just be the wine, but Adora could swear that Catra blushes.
“I still have the ring you gave me,” she says. “On my 16th birthday? I still wear it sometimes.”
Something terribly tender inside Adora aches.
“You do?”
Catra nods. “Especially when I’m anxious. I—I was wearing it that first day in class, when I saw you again.”
Adora’s eyes widen. “Wait, really? I didn’t notice.”
“I kept my hand in my jacket pocket so you wouldn’t see.”
Adora leans down and presses her forehead to Catra’s, breathing in. Her head spins from the intimacy of this, from being huddled under the same blankets on a cold, clear night.
I could just lean forward. It would be easy .
But Adora doesn’t move, and neither does Catra. Until Adora, so full of warmth and wine, kisses Catra’s forehead, lingering there for a few fleeting seconds. Catra places one hand on Adora’s flushed cheek, tracing the outline of Adora’s jaw, but she leaves it at that. They finish the bottle, and they agree, implicitly, to take it one step at a time.
The next morning when they wake up, Adora’s arm is curled around Catra’s waist. Thinking Catra is still asleep, Adora goes to move it, but Catra stops her, lacing their fingers together and drawing Adora closer instead.
------
Adora and Hope took Mara’s car to get an oil change, and now Mara and Catra are finishing up another episode of Mara’s show, one of her British murder mysteries that she loves. Catra didn’t care much what they watched at first; she was content to just sit with Mara. But now she’s been sucked in and she needs to know what monster is terrorizing this tiny seaside English town. The episode ends and Catra is about to offer to make tea when Mara turns to her and takes Catra’s hand.
“Will you tell me what happened?”
There’s no mistaking Mara’s meaning. Catra wants to run. Her fight or flight response is telling her flight but she can’t move. She looks at Mara, heart beginning to pound from the anxiety building inside her.
Mara covers their joined hands with her free hand.
“It’s okay, honey. I don’t want you to be scared, and you don’t have to tell me. But I want to know, if you’re ready.”
Catra breathes in, then out, then in again. There’s no reason to be afraid here. She doesn’t have to be afraid at all, and especially not of Mara, someone who has always been safe.
Catra swallows. “I’m ready.”
She tells Mara what she can manage to get out. She blushes when she gets to the part about the kiss, but Mara doesn’t look remotely surprised, which Catra decides to think about later. Mara’s expression doesn’t change from one of concern and compassion until Catra gets to the part about what happened after. Catra tells her about the words and actions her mother used to get Catra to crush whatever was between her and Adora with bare, ruthless hands. She doesn’t tell her everything she told Adora, but she tells her enough.
By the end, Mara is shaking, and at first Catra thinks she’s cold. She grabs the fleece blanket draped over the couch and starts to place it over Mara’s legs, but Mara waves her off.
“No, I’m fine, I just . . . Catra.”
Catra pauses, waiting.
“I can’t begin to imagine what that pain must’ve felt like,” Mara says, eyes shining. “I should’ve done more. Sometimes . . . sometimes it’s easy to think that it’s not your business, that it’s someone else’s child and you can’t interfere. But I don’t think that’s true anymore. I knew something was wrong, and I didn’t act, and I should have. I’m so sorry.”
Mara grasps both of Catra’s hands. Now it’s Catra who’s shaking.
“I should’ve kicked that door down. I should’ve marched in there and demanded to know what was happening. You deserved that.”
Catra is crying now, crying like she doesn’t remember having cried before in her life. Mara’s arms surround her and hold her close, rocking her back and forth.
“Can you forgive me?”
Catra speaks through her tears. “It’s not your fault, Mara.”
“No. But I should’ve fought for you. You shouldn’t have been alone. You deserved to be fought for.”
Catra cries until she feels spent. Empty, but not in a bad way. Mara doesn’t let go.
Catra has never said it out loud before. Not to a therapist, not to Adora, not even to herself, at least not consciously. The question that’s been coiled inside of her since she was a little girl, since she became aware that anyone’s life or mother was different from her own. Here, with Mara, she finally feels able to give voice to it.
“Why didn’t she love me?”
Mara leans back enough to look at her.
“Some people never learn how to love. I don’t know why. Some people just never learn how. But someone’s inability to love you doesn’t make you unlovable. You learned how to love."
Catra has never thought of it this way, that she was able to learn something her mother never could. Maybe that’s why they were so different.
“And Catra?” Mara says. “I love you.”
Catra clasps Mara’s hand. “I love you, too.”
“There is nothing wrong or bad about your love.”
Catra tucks the words away. If Mara says it, it must be true.
“Adora said I’m not like my mom,” Catra says, the words feeling truer now.
Mara smiles. “I completely agree.”
“Speaking of Adora,” Mara continues. “You love her.”
It’s not a question.
More tears appear in Catra’s eyes, but they’re different this time.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.”
“I hurt her.”
“Did you apologize?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s that. You apologized and you’re making it right. That’s what matters. And I think it’s clear that Adora forgives you.”
Catra tugs at the ends of her fingers. “I don’t understand how.”
Mara’s voice is so gentle. “Because you love each other.”
Catra shakes her head. “That—that’s crazy, though. Who meets the person they’re going to love when they’re 14?”
Mara’s eyes sparkle with kindness and a touch of humor.
“Some people, it would seem.”
------
When Adora and Hope get back, it’s clear that something happened, but Adora doesn’t ask, and Catra is grateful.
“Are you ready to go?” Adora asks.
“Oh, I’m ready,” Catra replies. “You promised me a funnel cake, and I’m holding you to it.”
Adora laughs. “We’ll, I’m always good for my promises.”
“Have fun!” Mara calls after them as they leave, blowing a kiss to them both.
Catra hasn’t been to Etheria’s Winter Carnival since Scorpia dragged a very grumpy Catra there in senior year of high school. Then, Catra spent her time trying to avoid Adora, which kept her on edge for much of the night. As she climbs into Adora’s car, she’s struck by how much better this is, going with Adora to meet Scorpia and Entrapta there. Entrapta drove down from Dryl to come with them, and Catra is excited. She misses them, a lot, and getting to have all three of them with her tonight is special.
The sweet, charred scent of the carnival on the cool night air greets them as they walk up to the ticket booth, the brilliant lights of the rides and booths illuminating everything around them in a golden glow, screams coming from the direction of the rollercoaster every few seconds.
Scorpia and Entrapta arrive, and it’s Catra who throws her arms around Scorpia, holding on tight, and Scorpia spins her around in a small circle, setting her down gently.
“Catra! We missed you so much! What have you been up to? How’s home? Oh, gosh, there’s so much to catch up on!”
Catra laughs, comforted by the familiarity of Scorpia’s excitement.
“I missed you, too. You’ll have to tell me everything about home.”
Catra turns to Entrapta, waiting to see if Entrapta wants to hug. Sometimes she does, and sometimes she doesn’t, and Catra always leaves it up to Entrapta to decide. This time she does, reaching her arms out for Catra, and Catra holds her close.
“I missed you, Entrapta.”
Entrapta grins. “I missed you, too. I’ve built so many prototypes for a new bot I designed.”
“I wanna see them.”
“Don’t worry, I have pictures.”
Catra smiles. “Good.”
Catra turns to see Scorpia hugging Adora, the two of them chattering to each other about something Catra missed, Scorpia making sweeping hand gestures all the while. Not for the first time, Catra observes that Adora and Scorpia are actually a lot alike.
The four of them walk aimlessly around the carnival, winding their way through game booths covered in stuffed animals and inflatable swords, food stands with deep fried everything. Adora gets Catra the promised funnel cake, and they share it while Entrapta and Scorpia work on a plate of fried oreos, telling Catra everything that’s gone on since they all left for break. Adora brushes powdered sugar from the corner of Catra’s mouth as if that’s a completely normal thing to do, as if it doesn’t distract Catra from everything going on around her for the next five minutes.
They stumble upon a booth with a balloon dart game where a sign says that popping five balloons in a row gets you a medium prize, but seven in a row means you can choose any prize you want. Adora, of course, wants the challenge, and immediately hands over seven tickets to the man running the booth, who lays out seven darts in front of her. She glances back at Catra and winks.
“When I win, you can choose the prize.”
“So cocky,” Catra replies, grinning.
Adora pops the first balloon, of course. Then she pops the second, and the third. When she also pops the fourth, the man stands up straighter, paying closer attention. With the fifth and sixth balloons pop, he looks back and forth between Adora and her last target. Catra actually holds her breath as Adora throws the last dart and pops the seventh balloon.
Scorpia cheers and Entrapta applauds. The man running the booth is flustered, annoyed that Adora managed to beat the challenge, and Catra is useless, laughing so hard at the look on the man’s face that she can barely stand. Adora is hardly keeping it together herself, failing to hold back her own laughter, clearly pleased with herself.
Giggling, eyes sparkling, Adora turns back to Catra.
“Well? What’ll it be?”
Catra points at a small stuffed animal, an orange tabby kitten. The previously disgruntled man cheers up a bit when he realizes they’re not going to relieve him of one of his biggest prizes. He hands the stuffed kitten to Adora, who turns around and hands it to Catra.
“For you,” she says, beaming.
Catra can’t help but grin back at her. “You’re so satisfied with yourself, aren’t you?”
Adora raises one eyebrow. “Maybe I am. I’m pretty impressive, you know.”
“Yeah, you are,” Catra says.
Adora blushes a little bit at that, then puts her arm around Catra’s shoulders.
Scorpia enthusiastically congratulates Adora as Entrapta asks to hold the stuffed kitten for a while. They walk away from the booth and towards the rides, Adora’s arm still around Catra’s shoulders.
A couple of hours later, Scorpia and Entrapta decide to call it a night, saying their goodbyes with hugs and promises to hang out together again soon.
“See you on Christmas!” Scorpia calls out to Catra as they walk away, and Catra waves, turning to Adora.
“I want to do one more thing.”
“Name it.”
“Ride the Ferris wheel with me?”
Catra climbs into the passenger car of the Ferris wheel and Adora follows her. Instead of sitting on the opposite side, Adora sits down next to Catra, resting her arm on the back of the bench behind Catra.
The teenage kid who helped them in shuts the gate and then they’re moving, slowly, up and up and up, and Catra leans into Adora’s side, settling part of her back against Adora’s front, and Adora immediately drops her arm from the back of the bench to rest it instead on Catra’s shoulder.
Catra closes her eyes and drinks in this feeling, Adora’s arm around her, the neon lights of the Ferris wheel rushing by in a multicolored blur. The carnival and the town beyond are spread out below them. It’s funny, seeing this place from up here for the first time in a long time. So much has happened to Catra in this town, good and bad and terrible, but from up here, it doesn’t overwhelm her, doesn’t seem all powerful.
The ride comes to a pause to let more people on, close to the top of the Ferris wheel, but not quite. A gentle wind swirls around them but Catra feels as if the whole world is paused, waiting for her to do something, waiting for her to be brave.
Adora bridged the gap last time. It’s Catra’s turn.
She turns towards Adora, stomach twisting, heart straining against her ribs, and places her hands gently on either side of Adora’s face. Catra looks into Adora’s eyes to check, to make sure this is okay before she does it. She finds Adora looking back at her in wonder and anticipation and something else. Longing.
Carefully, so carefully, Catra closes the last hairbreadth of space between them and softly presses her lips to Adora’s.
Adora responds immediately, cupping Catra’s face in her hands, effortlessly deepening the kiss. She never thought she’d kiss Adora again, but there’s a part of Catra that remembers this, a part of her that never forgot this feeling. Her thumbs stroke Adora’s smooth skin, the apples of her cheeks.
And then the ride starts again and they both start at the sudden movement. They break apart, but only for a moment because then Adora cups Catra’s chin in one hand and draws her in for another kiss, determined and sure, wrapping her other arm around Catra’s waist. She strokes her tongue into Catra’s mouth and Catra feels woozy, like she might be swept under by this, like she wouldn’t mind that at all.
They kiss for what feels like a very long time, but can’t be more than a few minutes. The ride comes to a stop once more, more people clambering on below them, and they break apart, breath mingling between them. Adora kisses Catra’s forehead, her cheeks, and her lips, one more time.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
Catra sighs. “I missed you.”
The last time they kissed, Catra floated into her house, weightless, 17 years old, and in love, and full of hope. All of it was taken from her seconds later in the form of a hand wrapped around her throat, furious threats thrown in her face. She didn’t have any time to savor those feelings, her first kiss.
This time, they drive home to Adora’s house, hand in hand, no one to stop them, nothing to be afraid of.
------
They return home to a quiet house, the front porch light the only illumination in the hushed dark. They’re both a little giddy, whispers punctuated by bursts of laughter, shushing each other as Adora fumbles with her house key. They make it through the door and tiptoe up the stairs to Adora’s room, half-succeeding in avoiding the creakiest steps.
Adora is laughing at something Catra said when suddenly, alone together in Adora’s room, the air around them changes. It’s charged, sobering. Catra is standing so close to her that Adora can smell her shampoo, and she reaches out a hand to weave her fingers through Catra’s soft curls, her hand moving down to cradle her cheek. Catra looks up at her, bright eyes flashing.
“Kiss me.”
Adora captures Catra’s mouth in a hungry kiss. She’s starved for it and she wants more. Her hands wander across Catra’s back, down to the hem of her sweater, under the fabric and around to trace Catra’s spine with light fingers. Catra shivers and goosebumps appear on her skin. Adora smiles into the kiss. She has this effect on Catra. Adora breaks away, just barely.
“Is this alrig—”
“Adora. Don’t stop.”
That’s all she needs to hear.
Adora hooks her arms under Catra’s thighs, lifting her into her arms. Catra immediately links her legs around Adora’s waist as Adora carries her to the bed, laying her down on top of the unmade covers. Catra pulls Adora down on top of her, rolling them over until she’s straddling Adora’s lap.
Catra yanks her sweater up and over her head, revealing a thin, black lace bra and a lithe expanse of skin dusted with freckles. Adora returns to kissing Catra, moving her hands around to Catra’s back, finding her bra clasp and undoing it with one hand.
Catra smiles against Adora’s mouth. She leans back just enough to look Adora in the eye, grinning.
“Proud of yourself?”
Adora smirks. “Maybe.”
Catra rolls her eyes but she hums when Adora palms her breasts in her hands, rolling one peaked nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Adora looks up at Catra.
“Your breasts are perfect.”
“They’re small.”
“Shh, I’m busy,” Adora says, kissing her way down Catra’s chest, and Catra laughs, but it turns into a gasp when Adora’s mouth closes over Catra’s nipple, gently tugging. Catra cradles Adora’s head in her hand and moans low in her throat.
Catra tugs at the hem of Adora’s sweater, pushing it up, and Adora understands, pulling her sweater over her head while Catra unbuttons Adora’s jeans, pulling them down and then off over her hips. Adora kicks them off the rest of the way as Catra cups Adora’s breasts in her hands, brushing a thumb over Adora’s pierced nipple.
Catra’s out of breath. “When did you get this?”
Adora flushes, heart hammering from the intimacy of this moment, talking to Catra while she’s touching her like this.
“My birthday last year. It was an impulse.”
“Impulsive Adora. I like the sound of that.”
Adora beams back at her, cheeks even rosier now. She likes that she surprised Catra, impressed her, even. But Catra still has far too many clothes on, so Adora grasps her hips and carefully turns her over onto her back, unzipping her jeans and pulling them down, tossing them onto the floor. Adora leans down over Catra until they’re skin to skin, Catra’s rapid heartbeat noticeable with the close contact.
Catra takes Adora’s hand and guides it between her legs.
“Touch me.”
Adora grins and slips her hand past the waistband of Catra’s underwear, down to where she’s wet and waiting. Catra groans and bucks against Adora’s hand and Adora has mercy on her, stroking slow circles where she’s the most sensitive, gratified by the sounds of Catra unraveling underneath her.
“Look at me,” Adora says.
Catra meets her eyes, all pink cheeks and swollen lips, a distinct shyness in her expression that makes Adora feel incredibly proud of herself and incredibly protective of Catra at the same time.
“You’re beautiful.”
Catra flushes a deeper shade of pink. Her chest heaves and her thighs tremble.
“I always wanted you like this,” Catra breathes.
Adora brushes a kiss against Catra’s lips.
“You have me,” she whispers.
Adora kisses her way down Catra’s body, lingering on her neck, her chest, the smooth plane of her stomach. She reaches Catra’s hips, sliding her underwear off her body, and nudges her thighs apart. It’s not long before Catra’s hands are grasping the sheets and threaded in Adora’s hair as she comes apart under Adora’s mouth.
And soon it’s Adora on her back, writhing underneath Catra’s mouth, and it’s overpowering in a way she hopes consumes her. She’s burning up with it and she doesn’t care. Catra could burn her to the ground and she wouldn’t care.
But she wouldn’t, and she doesn’t, instead making Adora cry out, covering Adora’s mouth with her hand just in time, then lowering her body on top of Adora’s, both of them shaking and panting.
Adora’s heartbeat thunders in her ears and they hold each other, coming down, tangled together.
Catra is resting her head on Adora’s chest, listening to the thrum of her heartbeat, the even rise and fall of her breathing. Adora is carding her fingers through Catra’s hair, massaging her scalp. The stars are still stuck to the ceiling above them, glowing in the dark, as they have been through all the years Catra has fallen asleep in this bed.
“I always wanted you like this, too,” Adora whispers.
Catra presses her lips to the hollow of Adora’s collarbone.
“You have me.”
Catra has slept in the same bed with Adora what feels like a hundred times. She’s woken up beside her on more lazy Saturday mornings than she can count. But coming to the next morning is different, with Adora’s bare, sleep-warm skin pressed against hers.
Adora speaks first.
“That was a good sleepover.”
She looks so smug and cute and happy , and Catra decides she wants to spend all her time making Adora smile at her like that.
“I’d go so far as to say it’s one of our best,” Catra replies.
Adora chuckles and swings one leg over Catra’s waist, burying her face in Catra’s chest, and they lie there, holding each other and whispering about nothing, until the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of the stereo reaches them from downstairs.
------
Catra didn’t see most of the last four months coming, but making out with Adora in her car before a last-minute grocery run on Christmas Eve might be the most shocking. When this thought occurs to her, she can’t help but start laughing, happiness and shock and the sheer lucky coincidence of it all bubbling up inside her.
Adora looks at her, flushed and confused, but smiling. “What?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just,” Catra has to stop to giggle, “we’re making out in your car, and tomorrow is Christmas, and I really can’t believe we got here.”
It’s Adora’s turn to laugh now, and they keep kissing through their laughter.
Mara and Hope are already asleep, having gone upstairs after what has become a nightly ritual of the four of them drinking tea at the kitchen table and playing cards. Catra is washing the mugs when Adora comes up behind her, wrapping her arms around Catra from behind. She kisses Catra’s temple.
“Let’s go for a drive.”
Catra turns around in Adora’s arms, smiling shyly.
“Let’s bring our presents, too.”
Adora drives them down Etheria’s main street, bright fairy lights strung up in the trees lining the road. Very few people are out at this time of night, the shops and restaurants having long since closed early for the holiday. She takes them back to the park, but this time she parks near the holiday lights display, hundreds of lights casting a multicolored glow on the trees around them.
“I want you to go first,” Adora says.
Catra raises her eyebrows. “Well, I’m very curious, so I’m not going to argue with you.”
Adora holds out a small rectangular gift covered in gold paper dotted with white stars. Catra accepts it, turning it over in her hands, purposefully tearing open the folded corners on the back. She peels back the paper to reveal a framed photograph.
In the photo, they’re sitting in a booth at the diner downtown. Adora’s arm is on the booth behind Catra, not around Catra’s shoulders, exactly, but almost. Adora is saying something in Catra’s ear, who’s leaning into Adora, and they’re smiling, stationary in the midst of a blur of people moving around the diner behind them.
Catra remembers this day well. It was one of the hottest days of that summer, heat rising from the pavement in waves. She and Adora spent all day at the pool, switching between lying out until they got too hot to stand it and swimming lazily, floating on their backs, the few clouds in the sky billowing past above them. Catra watched Adora’s hair flowing around her shoulders in the water, the drops sparkling on her eyelashes whenever she came up for air, the rivulets of water trailing down her back when they got out of the pool.
Lonnie, Kyle, Rogelio, Scorpia, and a few of Adora’s teammates met them at the diner that night, late, and they all ate too many pancakes and talked too loud and generally reveled in being free for a few more weeks before school started. There’s a bit of a glow to the two of them in the picture, partly from the bright lights of the diner above them, but also from their day spent entirely in the sun, Catra’s freckles even more pronounced than usual, Adora’s hair the lighter blonde it always changed to in the summer from spending all her time outside. They look young, and happy.
Catra’s fingers graze something on the back of the frame. She turns it over to find a small note taped there in Adora’s loopy handwriting.
Catra,
I want us to remember that it was good. That we were good.
I don’t regret it.
Adora
Tears gather in Catra’s eyes, and she doesn’t bother to try and hide them.
“Where did you get this? I’ve never seen this before.”
“This is the only one. Remember that disposable camera Lonnie used all summer? It’s from that. She gave it to me right before senior year.”
“And you kept it.”
“I kept it.”
Catra can’t articulate it right now, can’t put words to the emotions stirring inside her, so she hands Adora her present.
Adora eagerly tears open the hunter green paper to reveal a slim book with a dark blue cover. It’s the same book of poetry that Catra was reading from during the snowstorm weeks ago. Adora looks up at Catra, awed.
Catra inclines her head toward the book.
“Open it.”
Adora slowly opens the front cover to find a note in Catra’s angular script.
Adora,
The first time I read this book, it made me feel like I had a life ahead of me. The second time, I was with you.
Thank you for the answers.
Catra
Adora looks up. “You’re giving me your book.”
Catra blushes. “Do you like it?”
Adora pulls her into an enthusiastic kiss and Catra melts.
“I love it.”
It’s late. Christmas day was a blur of hugs, and laughter, and presents, and good food. Catra is sleepy and happy. How she ended up with not one, but two places to go on Christmas, both places where she’s loved and wanted when her own home was never that way, is a mystery to her. It’s one she’s glad to accept, though.
Adora is lying next to her on the bed, holding her hand, and Catra can hear the muffled voices of Mara and Hope downstairs, playing music and making their nightly tea for the four of them, when Adora speaks.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Are we dating?”
Catra rolls over onto her side to face Adora and laughs.
“Um, I hope so?”
Adora blushes. “Well, it feels important to ask!”
Catra taps Adora on the nose, and Adora crinkles her nose. “I’m just teasing. Are you asking?”
“Yeah,” Adora says, seriously. “I am. Will you be my girlfriend?”
A thrill runs up Catra’s spine and she has to take a moment to catch her breath. Part of her wishes she could go back and tell her teenage self that this is in her future. But what a good surprise it is.
“Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
A slow smile begins at the corner of Adora’s mouth, and then she’s beaming, pulling Catra closer, kissing her. Catra can’t get over it, Adora’s smooth skin and soft lips, trailing her fingers along Adora’s sharp jawline.
“I think I was a little scared to ask,” Adora says.
“Wait, why?”
“I don’t know, I just . . . I don’t want to lose you again. I want to keep you. Not that you, like, belong to me, or anything, I just mean—”
Catra kisses her, cutting off Adora’s increasingly rapid speech. Her heart is thrashing about in her chest, but she knows she means it, and she knows she wants to say it.
“Don’t you get it? I love you. I always have.”
Adora’s eyes are wide, her lips parted.
“You love me?”
Catra can’t help but laugh at the joyful, stunned expression on Adora’s face.
“You’re such an idiot.”
Adora’s expression softens, transforming into one that Catra has seen many times before, now that she thinks about it.
“I love you, too.”
Now Catra is the one who’s stunned. She wasn’t totally anticipating hearing it back for some reason. She practically leaps on top of Adora and kisses her, a delighted squeal emanating from Adora as she catches her.
------
It’s a warm morning on Catra’s second first day at Bright Moon University because she wakes up next to Adora.
Adora is sleeping soundly next to her, on her side with her knees tucked into her chest, her fists tucked under her chin like she sleeps sometimes, her hair splayed out across her pillow like a sunburst.
Catra picks up her phone from the nightstand to check the time. She’s still got an hour until her first class, but she hates even the risk of being late, so she decides she might as well go ahead and get up. She gradually moves the covers off of herself, inch by inch, trying not to disturb Adora, whose first class isn’t until later this afternoon.
It doesn’t work, though, because Adora stirs as Catra attempts to swing her legs off the side of the bed. Adora cracks one eye open, taking in the sight of Catra trying to sneak out of bed.
“Mmmm, no, come back,” Adora groans, tugging at Catra’s shirt, trying to get her to lay back down. “It’s cold in here without you.”
Catra laughs quietly. “I have to get ready for class,” but she lets Adora pull her back under the covers, not ready to give up the peaceful cocoon of Adora’s bed and Adora’s arms quite yet. Adora molds Catra to her body, tucking her head under Adora’s chin, rubbing Catra’s back in circles. Catra sighs, and her body betrays her, sinking deeper into the covers and Adora, and not wanting to get back out, ever.
Adora’s hands continue to roam over Catra’s back and then around to her front, one hand slipping under Catra’s oversized t-shirt and then up, the other reaching just below the waistband of her sleep shorts. Catra shivers, but not from cold.
“Adora, we don’t have time.”
Adora kisses her neck. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”
“I do not want to wake Glimmer. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling she might hold that against me forever.”
Adora flashes her a shit-eating grin. “It’s not my fault when you’re loud.”
“It’s actually completely your fault when I’m loud!”
Adora laughs, a rumble against Catra’s chest, and she moves her hands to Catra’s face instead, placing a chaste kiss on her lips.
“Glimmer is a nightmare when she’s woken up before she’s ready.”
Catra traces a finger down Adora’s nose, lips, and chin.
“We’ll have time after our date tonight,” she whispers.
Adora brightens.
“Go get ready. I’m gonna make you some toast. I don’t want you going to class on an empty stomach.”
Catra’s heart clenches. She just does things like this, all the time.
“I love you.”
Adora sticks her tongue out at her. “I love you, too.”
Unlike the last one, this senior year is really good.
Adora is playing her last game at BMU, ever, and she feels anxious to go out on a high note, sad that this part is ending, but excited that the people she loves are here.
When she looks out into the stands, Catra is there watching her, smiling wide, sandwiched in between a cheering Scorpia and Bow. Glimmer, Entrapta, Mara, and Hope finish out the row, and Adora feels ready.
When they win, Catra moves towards her through the crush of cheering people, and the memory of another night like this one, years ago now, with a younger, more timid Catra flashes across Adora’s mind’s eye. But here, now, Catra jumps into Adora’s arms, throwing her arms around Adora’s neck. Adora holds onto her.
“Did you see?!” Adora exclaims.
Catra laughs and hugs her tighter.
“Yes, dummy, I saw!”
Adora sets Catra down on the ground and kisses her right there on the field, her teammates whooping and cheering around them.
It feels so surreal, Adora barely remembers walking across the stage at graduation. She does, however, remember the rest of the day. Hugging Bow and Glimmer when they met up after the ceremony, Catra and Glimmer pouring four different kinds of alcohol into a punch bowl and refusing to tell anyone what was in it, Scorpia’s vast array of miniature desserts (at Entrapta’s request, of course).
Mara is all happy tears and pride, and she must take dozens upon dozens of pictures throughout the day. Adora’s favorite, though, ends up being one she didn’t know was being taken. She and Catra are sitting on the couch in Catra’s apartment a couple of hours after the ceremony, still in their caps and gowns, Catra’s legs draped across Adora’s lap. Adora is animatedly saying something to Catra, who’s watching Adora with a contented smile.
That picture stays with them for a long, long time.
------
One year later
The backyard is covered in bluebells.
Adora winds her way through the white chairs set up in rows with an aisle between them, hugging her mom’s family members as she passes them by.
“Look at you, Adora! All grown up!”
“Adora! You have your mother’s smile.”
“I haven’t seen you since you were this high!”
Adora smiles and hugs them all, any awkwardness she might have felt in different circumstances eclipsed by the sheer joy of this day, this day that might not have happened for a hundred reasons but is happening anyway. Adora could burst with the gratitude filling her up right now.
She walks into the back door of the house, careful not to catch her dress on anything, and looks around for Catra. She’s supposed to be back from having a “one-on-one conversation” with the caterer that Adora would not want to be on the receiving end of, based on the look on Catra’s face. It was something about meatballs, or crab puffs, or something. Honestly, Adora hadn’t been paying all that much attention, happily handing that responsibility over to Catra in favor of looking after her mom. She makes her way up the stairs to her mom’s room, holding up the long skirt of her dress, a sage green that reminded her of her mom’s garden when she saw it, as she ascends the steps.
“Mama?” Adora calls out, knocking lightly on the door.
“Come in, my love!” Mara calls out.
Adora opens the door, finding her mom standing in front of the floor length mirror in the far corner of Mara’s room.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, honey. Can you zip me up?”
Adora can’t respond, though, because she’s completely frozen, awestruck by the sight of Mara in her wedding dress. It’s simple, a floor-length, white crepe slip gown. It’s perfect on her. Mara’s hair, grown out just past her chin now, is dark and wavy and swept to one side. Mara turns around to look at Adora and suddenly Adora can’t say anything, any words she might have spoken caught in her throat.
“Adora?” Mara says. “Is everything alright?”
Adora manages to regain control of her voice, but there are tears in her eyes.
“Mama, you’re so beautiful.”
Mara’s face crumples. “This has to be the hundredth time I’ve cried today.”
Mara opens her arms and Adora goes to her, trying not to crush her mom’s dress too much as Mara holds her close. Mara strokes Adora’s hair, kissing her forehead.
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Mama. I’m so happy for you.”
“Oh, baby. I’m so happy. For all of us.”
Adora wipes the last of her tears from her eyes, laughing.
“We’re a mess . Have we stopped crying at all in the last 24 hours?”
Mara laughs now, too. “Honestly, no, I don’t think we have.”
This sends them into a bout of excited, relieved, slightly hysterical giggles. The joy filling this room wraps around Adora. There’s so much to celebrate.
Yesterday, Mara got the call that she’s in complete remission.
Mara, Hope, Adora, and Catra sat around the kitchen table after the call, alternating between crying and laughing. Hope held Mara close, covering her face in kisses.
“And tomorrow, we’re getting married,” Hope said.
That set them all off again and they were all useless for another hour.
“Where’s Hope?” Mara asks now.
“She’s getting the rings and making sure everything’s all set.”
Mara smiles dreamily. “I love her.”
Adora bursts into another stream of giggles at her mom’s sweet, extremely obvious statement.
“Well, good, since you’re marrying her! I love her, too.”
Mara squeezes Adora’s hands in hers. “And she loves you, baby. Which only made me love her more.”
There’s another knock at the door now.
“Come in!” Mara calls out.
The door opens slowly and Catra peeks around it, and she gasps as she walks into the room and sees Mara.
“You’re beautiful, Mara.”
“Aww, thank you, my love. You’re beautiful! I love your jumpsuit!”
Catra shuffles on her bare feet, smiling shyly. “Thank you.”
And she is. Catra’s jumpsuit is a dusky blue with flowing pants, a deep V neckline that extends down to the cinched empire waist. Her silver ring with the single star on the top of the band glints on her hand.
Adora slips an arm around Catra’s waist, laughing, pulling her in close. “Where are your shoes?”
Catra smirks. “They’re around. I’ll put them on before the ceremony.” She turns to Mara. “I talked to the caterer, and we’re seeing eye to eye again, so don’t worry.”
“Wait, what exactly were they trying to do?” Mara asks.
“They were trying to say that we didn’t order double crab puffs when I know for a fact that we did. Also, you’re getting all the glassware for free.”
Mara laughs a deep belly laugh. “I’m really glad I have you in my corner, Catra.”
Catra beams.
Mara holds out one hand to Adora and the other to Catra, and they both take it.
“How lucky am I that I have both my favorite girls with me today?”
Mara folds them both into a hug and Adora’s body eases into the embrace.
Lucky.
“Wait, what did he say then?” Glimmer asks.
“He said, ‘That’s not on the invoice,’ and I said, ‘Yes, it is,’ and he said, ‘I don’t think so,’ and I said, ‘Well, I have the invoice right here,’ and then I showed it to him, and he was also just tired of me by that point, so I won,” Catra says proudly.
“Ugh, excellent work.”
“Thank you, I agree.”
Glimmer holds up her glass of wine to Catra’s and they clink glasses.
Glimmer smiles against her glass now, inclining her head to something past Catra’s shoulder. Before Catra can turn around, Adora is behind her, circling her arms around Catra’s waist. Adora kisses Catra on her cheek, a gentle heat blooming across Catra’s cheeks at the surprise.
“Hey, you two,” Adora says. “Mom and Hope are about to have their first dance.”
Glimmer gasps. “Oh, this is my favorite part. I’m gonna go get Bow!”
Glimmer rushes off, and Catra turns around in Adora’s arms, curving her own around Adora’s neck.
“You’re especially cute today,” Catra says.
“Oh, am I?” Adora says, smiling down at her.
“Mhmm. You look happy.”
Adora touches her forehead to Catra’s. “I am happy.”
Adora kisses her, and Catra knows people are looking, can see, but she also knows they’re safe. She kisses Adora back, letting the music coming from the dance floor, the hum of voices of wedding guests milling about, and the scent of the blooming garden surround her.
“You promised me a dance today,” Adora says against her lips, beginning to lead Catra by the hand in the direction of the dance floor to wait for Hope and Mara.
“I’m good for my promises,” Catra grins, following her.
------
Three years later, Catra and Adora are in Mara’s backyard for another wedding. It’s spring, and the flowers are blooming.
Catra wears another jumpsuit.
Adora opts for a dress.
It’s actually even better than the last time, though. Because this time, it’s their wedding.
They’re both good for their promises.