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When Glimmer found her soulmate, Adora had been happy for her. Truly, deeply happy. Not the fake happy you tell yourself you are when everything is working out for everyone around you, while your life continues to spin in a great, doldrum gyre. Can there be a gyre in the doldrums? …whatever. The point was, Adora was happy . Glimmer had raced home from her daily mental health slash hot girl walk around their local park, throwing open the apartment door with a bang that had Adora reaching for the knife she kept strapped under her bed frame (Bright Moon was safe, yes, but Fright Zone habits die hard).
“Adora!” Glimmer had screamed. “It happened!”
Turns out, she’d accidentally jogged right through some sort of archery meet, and when the coach had come up to keep her from the line of fire, he’d said the words .
“Is that… normal?” Apparently he’d gestured to her hair, and Glimmer had groaned and rolled her eyes.
“Yes, I sparkle,” Glimmer had sighed.
And that had been that. The magic words. ‘Is that normal?’- the words that had been scrawled on Glimmer’s hip since she was ten, the age all people’s soulmarks appeared. The first words your destined loved one, your soulmate, would say to you. Adora’s own mark, scrawled gorgeously across her heart, was completely and utterly unhelpful.
Hey, Adora
That was it! Ten people said that to her a day . So, Adora had taken to responding in the worst possible ways.
“What’s hanging, stinky?”
“How dare you say that to me?”
“Did you know that I once licked every doorknob in my house just because I could?”
So far, no takers. But that was alright. The perfect girl had to be somewhere right? Anyway- Glimmer was moving out. And Adora found herself in desperate need of a roommate. She’d been lamenting about this to Scorpia one night at the local gay tavern, Razzle Dazzle, both of them winding up there after respectively arduous shifts. Scorpia had hummed to herself, tilted her head, ordered another drink, and said,
“Y’know, Adora, I think I can help. My friend Catra is looking for a place in Bright Moon with low rent. Would you want to meet her?”
“ Yes! ” Adora yelled, lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Please, please- yes! Bring her to the, uh, the picnic! With everyone! Next week?”
“Sounds great!”
So here she was, two cans of whatever weird, important, pretentious IPA Sea Hawk had brought down (far too smoothly), playing the most intense game of ultimate Frisbee she’d ever experienced, waiting to meet the girl who could save her life. Well, her rent at any rate.
“Adora,” Sea Hawk screamed from across the field. “Cover Frosta!”
“You suck, old man!” Their wayward adopted stray youth, hand-chopped and self-dyed hair askew, flipped Sea Hawk off from downwind. Glimmer cackled from right field. Adora nodded to Sea Hawk, cutting her eyes left, and neatly caught the toss he sent her. Frosta, Glimmer and Spinnerella groaned, while Sea Hawk and Netossa went pelting down the field to catch her next shot. Adora dodged both her would-be blockers, wound up, and sent the disc slicing through the air. She watched it miss Netossa, flying over her head by at least a foot, and sail right past Sea Hawk, who hadn’t stopped running to turn around yet. Adora watched it go and go and go-
THWUNK!
-and slam right into someone’s forehead. Adora was already running before it struck the woman. She reached her just as she was picking up the offending disc, unimpressed.
“Oops, my bad!”
The woman looked up, and Adora’s heart skipped a beat. She was a magicat, a rare sight for the bay city that Bright Moon was. Her eyes were two different colors, one a rich sky blue and the other a honey, sunshine yellow. Her ears were laid a bit flat- understandable with the whole frisbee battery thing- but Adora could see they were studded with rings, chains, and hoops of all sorts of gold, with all sorts of jewels. Her hair was short, but longer than buzzed, and looked hand-cut in a way that spoke to effortless grace and self-awareness. Her fur was tan, with darker stripes on her upper arms, and a tail to match them. She was beautiful .
The woman, for her part, gave her a brief once over, now very unimpressed, and snorted. “Hey, Adora.”
Adora’s heart flipped, only to sink when she realized the other woman hadn’t given any thought to her own greeting. Another loss then. Maybe for the best…
“You know me?”
The woman rolled her eyes. “No, I know Scorpia. She told me all about her well-intended, clumsy, blonde golden retriever of a friend looking for a roommate. And she mentioned the lucky jacket.”
Catra had an odd accent that certainly wasn’t America, let alone Etherian, but wasn’t one she’d heard before. Either way, it made Adora blush, hard. So did the jab. Her red college letterman jacket that had seen cleaner, better days was practically part of her skin now. But if she knew all that, and Scorpia, then…
“Are you Catra?”
“Uh, duh,” Catra rolled her eyes.
“Catra!” Scorpia came bounding over, and scooped her friend up. Catra grunted, but seemed to soften a bit as she thumped Scorpio’s back.
“Hey, Scorp.”
As the rest of their friends came over, introducing themselves or saying hi to the newcomer, Adora’s heart didn’t slow its hurried march. In fact, as Catra’s smile grew, and her eyes crinkled, and she laughed- squeaky, rusty, and bright- her heart sped up.
Uh oh.
— ——— - - — —- —
Catra was… content.
She’d come to understand that in her lifetime, true happiness was going to be hard to come by, short lived, and probably towing along a hefty price. Part of it was the foster system she’d been raised in. Part of it was her own cynical attitude. Most of it, though, was the fact that the world was obsessed with soulmates, and that she would never and never, ever , have one.
Her mother had lived just long enough to warn her that on her tenth birthday, Catra wouldn’t receive the same mark that all of her friends would. She’d told her that their family was cursed, and even as an adult, Catra was certain she was correct. No woman in their bloodline had ever received a soulmark. Her grandmother had married a man who’s soulmate had already died, had her mother, who had had Catra with a one night stand, or a dead man. Whoever he was, there was no record of him in the system. She’d checked. Not even one of those fancy DNA tests had produced so much as a name.
It was fine. She was content.
Catra found small joys in other aspects of her life. Her friendship with Scorpia. Her quest to find the best cappuccino on earth. And above all, the dance. She’d trained with the best of the best in both Russia and Paris after being scooped out of her first foster home in Texas at the age of six, just four months after her mother had died. She’d been too young to understand why the woman who made her homemade ravioli and took her berry picking had been so delighted to see her dancing around the living room to the Christmas broadcast of the Nutcracker, or why she’d been so impressed at how Catra had gone all the way up on her tippy toes. Now, she wondered how her life would have been if she’d just sat and watched quietly. That woman had been warm and kind. Maybe she’d just be a simple farming girl in the suburbs of Austin, but at least she wouldn’t have had to endure years of Weaver.
She pushed those thoughts aside. There was no changing the past, and therefore no reason to dwell on it, and have it upset the present. Da? Oui. And besides, dancing was her lifeblood. She was highly sought after, one of the best in the world, and she’d done it all without anyone but herself. She was content.
Or, she had been, until her studio announced they were moving out of the Fright Zone and into the gentrified nightmare that was Bright Moon. Catra would have rather located to Salineas, or hell, Snows, than the gold streets of Fuck You, I’m Rich, Eat My Ass, USA. But her studio was good, and paid her well, and listened to her, so…
Looked like she was moving.
She’d called Scorpia twenty minutes after getting the email, and by the end of the week, she’d come through with a friend who’s roommate was moving out after meeting her soulmate. Adora Grayskull, owner and proprietor of Swift Rescue, the local animal shelter. She was an ex-veterinarian, or something. Or maybe an ex-vet like the army. Catra hadn’t thought to ask.
Whatever she was, she was strong, blonde, and not too forthcoming with the congnitive processes. Sadly, exactly her type.
“Oops, my bad!”
Catra rubbed her head and her collar- the frisbee had whacked her temple, and must have banged her clavicle on its descent- and tried not to summon the glare that had earned her the nickname La Reine des Glaces . The Queen of Ice.
“Hey, Adora,” she drawled. The blonde’s eyes widened, and crept toward her neck, before she aborted the movement and shook her head. They exchanged pleasantries before Catra was hauled over to meet ‘everyone’.
Turns out everyone did mean literally everyone. There were Glimmer and Bow, the newly discovered soulmates who couldn’t have been paid to take their eyes off one another. Glimmer worked at city hall as the youngest councilwoman, like, ever, while Bow was an archery instructor and part-time librarian. Mermista and Sea Hawk, soulmates going on five years, who’d just gotten back from some vacation in the Maldives, and were setting off for Norway next month, seemed like your typical thrill seeking adventurers. Mermista was the director of the city aquarium, and Sea Hawk just laughed when she asked what he did. So that was totally normal. Perfuma, who she was well acquainted with, having been Scorpio’s soulmate for two years now, was a florist and botanist. Frosta was Glimmer’s cousin, freshly twenty one, and happily, rebelliously single. Spinnerella and Netossa, the Elder Gays, had been married for almost fifteen years; they’d eloped at 18, days after becoming soulmates, and been together ever since. They ran local community centers with outreach programs for youth, which is how they’d found this group one way or another. Adora brought in therapy animals, Glimmer coordinated funds and dates and events, Mermista and Perfuma provided STEM resources, Bow helped with athletics, on and on.
‘Damn,’ Catra thought. ‘Bunch of bleeding hearts, here, huh?’
Not her usual crowd, but for the rent Adora was going to charge her, it was fine.
She was fine.
——————
She moved in on July 17th, a sunny, normal day by all accounts. It had taken her and Scorpia all of two hours to uproot, move, and replant her spartan life- and 45 minutes of that had been driving. Adora had been at work, so she’d left a key under the basket of the hanging plant just next to the door in the hallway. Catra had snorted at just how obvious the placement was.
“Good thing the crime rate in Bright Moon is, like, 0.05%,” she’d muttered to Scorpia.
“Isn’t it great!” Her friend had the kind of guileless grin that made Catra feel bad she’d ever been snotty about whatever it was in the first place. Scorpia may be built like a linebacker, but her only mindset near violence was ‘kill ‘em with kindness’.
“Sure, Scorp.”
The apartment was…homey. Sort of. Homey in the way that someone trying really really hard to make it homey would be inclined to pursue. Forced coziness. But, to the right of the entry hall, there was a saggy looking couch and a smaller loveseat that almost matched, a really soft looking carpet, and a massive TV with a sound and game system. To the left of the open floor plan, a clean, fairly spacious kitchen sat, and past the living room, a dining area that had been turned into a home gym. Floor to ceiling windows ran from gym to living room, and beyond the kitchen was the hall that led to the bedrooms. Most interesting was the set of floating stairs at the end of the walk that divided kitchen from living room that led up to a loft-space.
It was a weird, yet beautiful space. A lot of potential, certainly. Too bad it looked like Adora’s taste was colorblind woman who’d blacked out in a thrift shop possessed by the soul of Lisa Frank if she’d attended Woodstock. Catra shook her head and found her bedroom.
It was big , to start with. More than enough space for her little twin bed, dresser, nightstand, and A-Frame Ladder bookshelf. Way more than enough. She’d need to buy furniture if she didn’t want to wind up, like, tragically depressed by Halloween. Although, if she stayed spartan, she could definitely fit a barre in here…
Focus Catra. Just get unpacked first. Bed tucked into the corner. Dresser across from it with a mirror and her little TV propped on top. Nightstand next to the bed. Bookshelf in the other corner, half against the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the courtyard. There was a tint control next to it, and she immediately dimmed the viewing ability. She didn’t know what kinds of creeps could live in the complex, and she didn’t want to learn.
Onto her bookshelf went her golden pothos, the only plant she’d ever kept alive (and the only one she’d ever been gifted with, trusted with, courtesy of Perfuma), the collection of crystals and rocks she’d been carting around since the academy because her first crush had believed in their ‘energy’ or whatever. The few books she’d managed to read in her busy life that she’d imprinted on just for the sake of seeing the task through. The two books she fully intended on reading before she died. The glass scorpion figurine from Scorpia (who had the matching cat). She tossed her clothes into the drawers of the dresser, threw her sheets on the bed, and that was that. She was moved in.
She looked over at Scorpia. “Pizza?”
“You don’t eat pizza.” Her friend frowned in concerned, always worried about her weight.
“You do. And, besides, I’m sure they have a salad.”
“...fine. But leave Adora a note! It’s the neighborly thing to do!”
Ugh. And thus began an indeterminate amount of time having to be considerate and courteous. Horrid.
———-
For the first month of their cohabitation, Adora saw Catra for maybe five minutes a day. It was a far cry from living with Glimmer, and she had to admit, she missed the roommate dinner nights (Family Dinner), the movie nights, the series they would watch together, playing silly co-op games, spending rainy Saturdays sipping tea and playing the records Glimmer had taken with her, or watching the snow come down in the winter.
She missed her family, to put it simply. She missed living with someone who knew her, who she knew, like the back of her hand. Living alone or with a ghost was a little too much like the barracks.
Bow’s voice rang in her head from their coffee meetup earlier that very day. “She needs you to reach first, Adora. Just like you needed Glimmer to. She’s alone in a new city, and from what Sea Hawk’s told me, from what Scorpia told him, she’s been alone for a long time. ”
Adora could see that. Catra left no trace of herself in the apartment. The only things she seemed to cook were boiled chicken and broccoli for lunch and dinner, and oatmeal for breakfast. She used one pot, washed it in between, and the only evidence she used the kitchen was the comically large bag of broccoli in the freezer.
So, she had to reach first. She could do that. Leaning against the counter of the rescue’s front desk, she thumbed over to Catra’s contact and started texting before she could psych herself out.
Adora: Hey, idk if you like to play games but i could use a player two for this Crystal Castle Siege raid tn. I’ll pay you in pizza
Catra: I don’t eat pizza
Adora: uhhhhh… broccoli?
Catra: lol fair enough. Sure, I guess. Be warned I haven’t touched a game controller in about ten years
Adora: I’ll teach u it’ll b fun! Want anything on my way back home?
Catra: know where i can find a good cappuccino?
Adora: idk what that is. Is that pasta?
Catra: aaaand nvm. I will be home around six.
Her heart and stomach flipped, and she grinned down at Swift Wind, asleep on his pillow. “Hear that Swifty? We’re gonna make a friend!”
————
Catra arrived back home at 6:02 to find the apartment filled with smell of Salinean takeout. She also found a dog.
“Jeez!” She yelped, recoiling from the living room. “What the fuck is that?!”
Adora came bounding down the stairs from the loft. “Hey, Catra! How was- oh, right! I guess you haven’t met yet! This is Swift Wind! He’s my service dog.”
She relaxed a bit more at that; service dogs were well trained, and couldn’t bother her when they were working. Which he seemed to be right now, thank the gods. He was a thick furred mutt of some sort, with a long snout and longer, spindly legs. His fur was thin, and a bit long, and his eyes were, for lack of a better word, a bit vacant. One ear was torn up, the other flopped down. He looked not unlike the borzois she’d seen and played with as a child in Moscow. “Uh. Hi. Doggy.”
Swift Wind’s tail thumped. Adora came up to pat his head. “Sorry, I totally thought Scorpia mentioned him. Are you allergic?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she muttered. “I don’t hang around dogs much. More of a cat person.”
“That’s cool! He’s a good boy, I promise. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bug you. How was, uh, work?”
Catra snorted, following Adora into the kitchen. “Rehearsal and practice. They were good, as they always are.”
“Are you getting ready for a performance?”
“Uh, yes,” Catra eyed her warily. Was she nosy or just curious in an overly friendly way? Probably the latter. Catra had a sixth sense for these things, and there was nothing but genuine interest behind Adora’s broad, pretty smile. “My company is going to open Rosalie and Juliet this fall-“
“The lesbian Shakespeare ballet thing?!” Adora grinned. “I’ve been hearing all about it on the radio!”
Catra tilted her head. “You listen to the radio?”
“They’re saying it’s going to be one of the most innovative performances of all time- that it may go global!”
“We, uh, certainly hope so.”
“What’s your part? Role? Thing?”
“I’ll be Rosalie,” Catra chuckled.
“Whoa,” Adora’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that, like, a huge deal? Are you good?”
She couldn’t help but laugh at that, dragging her broccoli out of the freezer. “Uh, yeah, I’m pretty good. I’m the principal dancer for the company. They offered my Juliette, but it was too… I dunno. I prefer the more masculine roles. I’ve done my time as a swan, and sleeping beauty, Cinderella, and Clarice.”
“Aren’t those the biggest roles?”
“For now,” Catra snorted, setting the chicken and broccoli to boil. “Times are changing, even in the close minded world of classical dance. Maybe I’ll be Sleeping Handsome one day.”
Adora laughed, and Catra’s heart jolted. When she laughed, warm and bright, it felt like she’d dumped an armload of sunshine right into the kitchen.
Ew, what?
She shook herself, and refocused on Adora. “-cool! I can’t wait to see you dance!”
“Oh, uh,” Catra stuttered. Her cheeks felt hot. “Sure, yeah, I’ll get you a ticket.”
“Cool!”
Silence sat over them, expectant, until Catra pulled her head out of her ass enough to return some questions. “So what about you? You run a pound?”
“I don’t think anyone’s called it a pound since the 1950s but yeah, sure,” Adora smiled. She did that a lot. “Swift Rescue! Over in the Thaymoor district.”
“Named after your leading man?”
“You know it!” Adora patted the mutt’s head. He leaned against her leg. “And before that, I was Marines. Until the diabetes made them board me out. For the best, though.”
“Oh, uh, wow,” Catra blinked. That was a lot of info to just. Plop right there on the kitchen counter. “I’m…sorry to hear that? But also, uh, congrats?”
“Thanks!” She flashed her a thumbs up.
“Is Swifty for the diabetes?”
“And the panic attacks. And my garbage hearing on the left. He’s a jack of all trades!”
Catra nodded, impressed with the stupid-looking dog. “Not bad, dude. So, what’s your dinner?”
“I grabbed take out from Sereni’s! Cute little spot on the bay. We should go sometime!”
“Yeah, sure,” Catra shrugged without thinking. When her brain caught up to her, she stopped. Was that a date? But when she turned to ask, Adora was gone, flopped on the couch without a care in the world. She plated up her own bland dinner, adding some seasonings, and followed her housemate. Catra tucked her legs under her carefully, primly, like she’d been taught eons ago. Not a second after she put her bowl down was a controller shoved into her hands. It was glowing blue, and vibrated in her hands.
“Okay, so,” Adora spoke around a mouthful of tikka masala. “A is attack, joystick is run, B is special attack, the triggers charge up two other attacks but that’s not important, and then Y is to block but I never use that.”
“I- what?”
“Alright let’s go!”
“Adora, wait-!”
The next two hours were an exercise in patience, anger, and utter futility for Catra. She didn’t win a single match, instead watching her avatar be killed over in over in creative, magical, horrible ways. END OF THE LINE flashed across her half of the TV over and over again, while Adora sailed through opponents like they were dummies. At some point, though, she gave up being angry over some stupid game she’d never touched before, and started using her uselessness to their advantage. Whenever someone would try to nail Adora with a fatal blow, Catra tossed her avatar in front of them, taking the hit.
“That’s so smart!” Adora cheered, jostling her.
As they played, they drifted closer and closer, until their legs were brushing and their elbows knocked together every time they smashed buttons. Catra’s body felt unnaturally warm, sitting there with her new roomie. In her defense, though, Adora gave off heat like a furnace.
When the raid came to an end, they were firmly in third place. Catra ducked her head, a sheepish apology already on the tip of her tongue, when two (really fucking strong) arms wrapped around her, crushing her in a hug.
“Dude! That’s the highest I’ve ever scored in one of these!”
“What?” Catra stared, dumbfounded. “How shit are you at this game? We sucked!”
“It’s a way more effective strategy to throw myself at everything when I have cover,” Adora laughed, letting her go. Catra missed the warmth. She kept this apartment cold as hell. “Please say we can do this again?”
Normally, Catra would extract herself from this strange woman’s presence with a brusque yet polite quip, retreat to her room, and be done with it all. But something deep inside of her was enjoying this- was having fun . She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had simple fun.
So she shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”
Adora’s answering smile was so bright, Catra began to fear for her retinas. And the carefully built up layers of ice around her heart. How they’d ever be able to withstand the sun itself, bottled up into one person, she had no idea.
—------- —
Adora woke up the next morning right on schedule at five am. She slid her hearing aid in and her molar guard out, took her morning medications, and swung her legs out of bed. It was a Thursday, which meant a two mile run. She got herself dressed, Swifty into his harness, and snatched her headphones up before heading out, making sure to lock the door behind her.
It was an early August morning. Not too hot yet, not too damp or chilly. Dew was just starting to steam into fog, kissing her bare ankles as she hit the track two blocks down from the apartment. As she ran, Swifty keeping good pace with her, her mind wandered over her Task List.
Breakfast. Today was and egg white, low fat cheese, and spinach scramble.
Work. She had two potential adopters coming in today. One for a pair of kittens, one for a puppy. Then, her volunteers were running the dogs all day, since they had an adoption event this weekend and needed the animals at a reasonable energy level. She got three food shipments today, the vet would be in tomorrow, and then she was meeting with a TNR group before heading home.
Social responsibilities. She had to call Glimmer and see what was happening for Sea Hawk’s yearly birthday… event. Bash was a good word. It always ended with someone getting pretty banged up. Then, they were penciling in the usual fall activities; apple picking, Halloween party, on and on.
It felt like a blink of an eye until she was back home, taking the stairs two at a time. She stopped herself from throwing open the apartment door like she usually did, mindful that Catra may still be sleeping. It was only six. However, when she pushed into their home, she found that her roommate was indeed awake, and-
Adora didn’t mean to stare. But it was borderline impossible not to when her roommate was performing feats of inhuman flexibility right there in their living room. She had the TV hooked into her phone, playing lo-fi classical music, and had pushed the coffee table aside to move. Currently, she was on the very tops of her toes, in shoes that looked like death traps, eyes shut in concentration. She’d yet to notice Adora, which made sense as Adora was pretty sure she’d forgotten how to exist, let alone breathe.
She wasn’t blind, alright? Catra was a beautiful, graceful woman. Her lithe frame, her quiet but bold confidence, the alluring hint of something dry and teasing behind her dual-colored eyes. Adora swallowed heavily when the dancer raised her left leg to a perfect ninety degrees… and kept going. Like a flower blooming, her leg moved fluidly upward until it was parallel with her torso. She leaned over, and her legs made a perfect, vertical split, all while on point. She held it for long, tantalizing seconds, before folding back in on herself. She repeated it with the other side before dropping down into a perfect split. At last, her eyes opened, and immediately saw Adora.
“Sorry!” She blurted, immediately knowing she was too loud from how Catra flinched. She lowered to a whisper- or what she thought one might be. “Sorry, sorry! I just came in and you were- that was amazing!”
Catra blushed a bit. “Oh, uh, thanks. Just my morning stretches. Sorry, I’m hogging the whole living room, usually I warm up in my room but the sunrise…”
“Please,” Adora murmured. Her voice was soft, too soft, too honest, but she couldn’t stop it. “I want you to. I mean, uh,” she stammered now. “It’s your living room, too, right?”
It was probably just, like, a smidge too gay to say she wanted to watch Catra warm up every morning. There was no way to say that platonically. Not that Adora meant it platonically.
What was the heat set to in here? Why was she sweating?
“I’m gonna. Um. Omelet time.” Adora turned on heel, marching toward the kitchen. Omelet time?! Was she insane?!
She couldn’t bring herself to look at Catra for the rest of the morning, too scared of seeing the usual polite mixture of ‘oh, I get it’ and ‘oof, yikes’ that every girl wore when they realized Adora was into them. That she wasn’t saying she liked their jeans because she wanted to know where they were purchased. That she was a loud (literally), proud (trying) lesbian.
But Catra just wrapped up her warm up, made her usual oatmeal with raspberries (the only thing even close to sweet she’d ever seen Catra eat), and sat at the kitchen island with her crossword app.
“Any for me?” Adora asked on instinct as she munched her omelet. She froze, fork halfway to her mouth. “Sorry! That was rude-”
“You gotta chill, girl,” Catra snorted, side-eyeing her. “Here. 89-Down. Twin sister of… hemin? Heemin?”
“He-man!” Adora beamed. “It’s an old cartoon! His sister was She-Ra!”
“Stellar names,” Catra snorted. “Okay, five letter word for late.”
They passed their breakfast over the puzzle, only splitting to get ready after they’d beaten the level together. Adora slid into her work jeans, flannel, and boots, while Catra reemerged in tights, pulling sweatpants over them, a skin-tight long-sleeved tee under a looser sweater, and thin sneakers with her pointe shoes crammed into her bag.
“See you later,” Adora waved.
“Bye, ‘Dor.” Catra didn’t look up from her phone as they split at the entrance to the building, but smiled anyway.
Adora grinned the entire way to work.
–
“So how’s the roomie?”
Adora rolled her eyes, trying to grab the bartenders attention from where she and Mermista were standing. “She’s great! Why?”
“Uhh, curious? Duh? You’ve been a total fuckin’ recluse since she moved in- James and ginger, and an old fashioned, thanks- and I just wanted to know if you were, like, banging.”
“Mermista!” Adora hissed, eyes flying around the bar.
The marine biologist rolled her eyes heavily. “Relax, she’s literally not even here yet.”
It was their attempted weekly (read, bi-montly at best) ‘Alliance’ night at Razzle Dazzle, the local semi-gay but also semi-viking-for-some-fucking-reason bar, and Adora had just barely gotten Catra to agree to come out with everyone. She had yet to show, but Adora wasn’t worried. Catra didn’t seem like a flake. So, while they waited, she and Mermista were tasked with grabbing drinks for everyone sitting outside. They’d started calling themselves the Alliance as a joke, but they were too far into the bit now.
“Should we leave an open tab?”
Mermista snorted. “You have open tab money?”
“You have two doctorates,” Adora rolled her eyes. “And I own a business. We’re fine.”
“Someone’s gay little boxers are in a hell of a twist tonight,” Mermista side-eyed her. “Anxious?”
“...yeah, maybe.” Adora deflated. “Sorry. Oh!” She snagged the bartender. “I need a dirty shirley, a floral gimlet, a green chartreuse, and whatever you’ve got on tap for the week.”
Mermista forked over her Amex (platinum, the fucking drama queen) before turning back to her. “Chill, Dor. Your girl is gonna fit right in.”
“How do you know?”
“Uh, because none of us make sense together?”
“Who doesn’t make sense together?” Glimmer had suddenly materialized next to her. Adora yelped, nearly knocking over another patron’s pint.
“Our dumb little group.” Mermista shoved her forward. “Order or die miserable.”
While Glimmer pondered Bow’s drink- hers was already ordered- Adora took her time to survey the two bonded women. Glimmer’s soulmark was scrawled across her wrist and knuckles in a shining candy red script. ‘Is that normal?’ So innocuous, so natural. It should have clashed with her sun tanned skin, her pink and purple cotton candy hair that, yes, sparkled. But it didn’t. It just… fit. Mermista’s mark was peeking out for once thanks to her heavily cropped top leaving her exposed from hip to rib, where her own was chicken scratched in a burning scarlet. ‘Please let it be you’. Grand, romantic, and dramatic. They said the nature of the mark reflected the union. Looking at her friends, Adora fully believed the old lore.
“Hey, Adora.”
The purr in her ears had Adora leaping sky high, once again nearly colliding with the same patron. A squeaky, snorting laugh reached her ears, and she turned to see Catra, hand in her pockets, chortling at her expense. Once again, the breath was knocked from Adora. She wore torn up, faded black jeans, biker boots with a sturdy base, a maroon key-hole tank top with a high neck, and the well-worn leather jacket that had been hanging on the hook in their entry hall for a month now. Wow. A whole month, huh?
“Catra!” She beamed. “You made it!”
“Duh,” the dancer rolled her eyes. “You invited me. Be shitty to bail.”
Adora smiled harder, if that was possible. “You remember Mermista and Glimmer, right?”
“Hey, Catra!”
“Sup.”
Catra jerked her head at them with a small smile. “Sure do. How was Norway?”
Mermista rolled her eyes. “Cold. Beautiful. Quiet. Got back two days ago.”
“Jet lag?”
“You have no idea.” Their drinks were slammed down, and they began grabbing what they could.
“I didn’t know what to order you-”
“I don’t drink much,” Catra waved her off. “My body is my job. Maybe a glass of wine once in a while, but that’s pretty much it.”
“Wow, yeah,” Adora nodded. “I totally respect that. You can have some of mine if you want, I don’t mind, but don’t feel pressured.”
“Thanks.” Her smile was small, but more genuine than the one she’d offered the others. Adora didn’t know how she knew the difference, but she did.
They rejoined the group to dramatic cheers and fanfare, exalted for bringing back drinks and Catra, who settled into the chair Netossa kicked out for her with care. They slid the drinks to their rightful owners before everyone settled in to, naturally, interrogate the newcomer.
“So! You’re a ballerina?” Spinnerella scooted forward. “What’s that like?”
Catra sipped one of the waters they’d been giving. “It’s… challenging. In a fun way. It’s all I’ve ever known, so I can’t imagine my life without it now.”
“Did you start young?” Bow asked.
“I was brought to Russia when I was six to study there, and then I was moved to Paris when I was fourteen.”
The table’s eyes were wide. “Woah,” Mermista drawled. “Sounds intense.”
“It was.” Catra shrugged. “But it’s what I do, what I’m good at. It’s my life.”
“What have you been in?” Glimmer tilted her head. “My mom used to take me to the ballet every year.”
“I’ve done more productions of Swan Lake, the Nutcracker, and Cinderella than you could possibly imagine,” Catra snorted wryly. “Sleeping Beauty is my favorite, but only when I get to play the prince or the evil fairy.”
“Do they let you do that?” Glimmer gasped. “Play the prince?”
“Not always,” Catra admitted. “Only once was I the prince, and it was an emergency. They had to do my makeup a special way to make sure no one knew I was a woman.”
“Is it odd?” Perfuma hummed. “Playing a male role?”
“Oh, not for me,” Catra snorted. “The oddest adjustment was using male pronouns when in rehearsal and on stage for a traditionally male part- it keeps confusion to a minimum- but honestly, it didn’t feel all that different from being called ‘she’ or ‘her’.”
“Cheers to that,” Sea Hawk grinned, winking over his old fashioned.
Catra snorted. “Errol Flynn over here gets it.” The table laughed at Sea Hawk’s expense, who took it on the chin with a laugh of his own. “But yeah, it’s not weird for me. I, uh, play for the other team.”
The table ‘aahh’d in understanding as Adora’s heart stopped cold in its tracks before restarting in double time. Catra was gay? What?
Bow put his chin in his hand. “Was that hard in Russia?”
“Yes,” Catra’s face shuttered, in a way. “It’s illegal, and when the state learns- because they will- they pair you with a partner of a similar persuasion, and bribe you into marriage. It was why I opted to head to Paris for my secondary education.”
Netossa whistled. “Jeez, that’s fucked up. I’m glad you’re able to be yourself.”
Catra blinked. “Uh. Thank you.”
“What dance are you working on now, Wildcat?” Scorpia kept the conversation moving.
“The gay Romeo and Juliet that goes on next Spring,” she smirked. “Y’all should come, I’m principal. It’s gonna be great.”
After that, conversation shifted to move jovial topics. Perfuma’s latest crop of marigolds, the kid who fell in the touch tank at Mermista’s aquarium and the smack down she’d given his Karen mother, Bow’s kids’ upcoming tournament, the community center, on and on. Catra seemed to relax as she was welcome seamlessly into the fold, and Adora felt her own shoulders dropping. Mermista was right, she shouldn’t have been so anxious.
She and Catra walked home, chatting idly with Swifty trotting at Adora’s side. Every street lamp they passed under brought her roommate’s beauty in sharp relief before plunging it back into soft darkness. Light- dark- light- dark. Yellow- blue- yellow- blue. Lup- dup- lup- dup; her heart beat in time with their footsteps, carrying them steadily home.
—
Catra tried not to think about her soulmark, or lack thereof. Usually, it was easy. But some days, it was gods-damned impossible. Her partner for the performance had just found her soulmate the night before, so logically, nothing had gotten done for the entire day while everyone fawned over her.
“Oh, what are they like?”
“How did it happen? How did it feel?”
“Spill! Are they hot?”
“Were they your type?”
Now, she was finally home, and the anger prickling under her skin was only getting hotter, and more urgent. She tried the barre, she tried yoga, but nothing helped. Finally, she glanced at Adora’s punching dummy. Her roommate wasn’t home yet, but Catra still glanced around nervously, like she was about to shoplift, or stab someone.
Tentatively, she bopped her fist against it. The dummy didn’t move. She bumped it next. Then she thumped it. Whacked it. Hit it. With each blow she grew more confident, and more furious as the rage found its way out. In seconds she was slamming her fists into it over and over, then her legs, carefully. She couldn’t afford a sprain right now. Still, how good did it feel to slam her body against something so perfectly yielding?
Oh, Catra, it was just magical!
Cool. Congrats.
Would you like to hear?
Maybe another time. We have to stretch-
They were soooo chivalrous! So sweet! They saved my life!
That’s great, Stephanie. Now-
Catra, have you found your soulmate?
No.
What does your mark say?
Bit personal, eh?
But you’re my partner silly! My Rosalie! And when you were Prince Geralt you were just so dashing!
Thanks. But, really, I’d rather-
Why not? Don’t you trust me?
It’s not that. I just, y’know don’t have one.
Silence. Always. The fucking. Silence. The stares. The muted horror. The occasional gasp , even. Why couldn’t everyone just leave-
Her-
ALONE!
She swung at the dummy with all her strength and sent it flying across the gym space to crash into the wall. The BANG! echoed through the apartment, fading into silence until the only sound was… choking? No, crying. Her crying. She hit her knees first before curling into a trembling ball. The adrenaline was leaving her in waves, depleting her strength, and it was all she could do to drag herself against the crouch.
She didn’t know how long she laid there, shaking and crying, but long enough that she didn’t hear the door open. Awareness was forced back into her when something warm, wet, and stinky touched her bare elbow. Catra’s head shot up, and she came face to face with Swift Wind. The stupid dog’s eyes were almost understanding, or concerned, as he laid his huge head on her knee. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, she lunged forward, burying her fingers in the dog’s ruff, the thickest part of his long fur. The dog let her tug him into her, hooking his elongated face over her shoulder in the canine approximation of a hug.
Apparently this whole therapy animal thing worked. Go figure.
“-ift Wind? You can’t just run off like that buddy, what- oh!”
Catra kept her head down. Adora seeing her like this was a nightmare come true, so she just focused on the feel of her stupid dog’s fur under her clenched fingers. There was rustling, shuffling, something being set down on the counter, and then the presence of a warm body next to her, just shy of touching.
“Hey, Adora.” Catra’s throat was clogged.
“Hey, Catra,” her roommate whispered. “Wanna talk?”
The idea made her stomach curdle. “Not really.”
“Okay. Wanna at least sit on the couch then? Swift Wind is a really good weighted blanket.”
Dog fur all over her rehearsal clothes? In her face? His drool precariously close to her skin? Disgusting. “...sure.”
They rose together and trundled over to the couch. Adora flicked on the TV, and grabbed the remotes for her stupid game off the coffee table. She pushed one into Catra’s hand where she lay propped against the arm of the couch, Swift Wind draped over her lap. “Here, playing always takes my mind off whatever’s got me down.”
“...thanks.” She held the controller with a bit more surety than she first did. The video game they both sucked at had become a bit of a weekly tradition.
“I had a bad day, too,” Adora sighed. She seemed content to fill the silence with her own words and unlike every other time someone sought to do that, Catra wasn’t annoyed. She felt… warm. Safer? “We had a litter of kittens dropped off last week with their mom from that abandoned condo complex over in Krytus, dunno if you know it. All the kittens got adopted, but today, the adopter for the mom backed out last minute.”
“What? That’s total shit.” Catra frowned.
“Yeah,” Adora swallowed, keeping her eyes resolutely on the screen. “I know they can’t tell when we put up or take down the stickers that say ‘adopted!’ on the cages but I swear Melog looked sadder when I walked away.”
“Melog,” she hummed. “Cute name.”
“She’s an oddball. Her kittens were all born black and ginger, but she’s like this muddy red color. And there’s a blue in her fur by the neck that won’t come out, so we think she was tagged by someone, or got into some chemicals in the condos. She’s the sweetest thing.”
“I’m sure someone will find her and treasure her.” Catra looked away. Orphaned animals was always just a hair too close to orphaned people for her comfort.
“Yeah,” Adora sighed. “I know. It just feels like I failed her.”
“Nah. You didn’t. You’re still sticking by her, and trying, so you couldn’t have failed her. Just… don’t give up on her.”
Adora looked at her, then, and Catra had the distinct feeling that she was looking through her. “You’re right. Thanks, Cat.”
Cat. A nickname. The only other one she had was ‘Wildcat’. “Yeah, whatever.”
“Anyway, yeah, that sucked. And then we had a senior surrender, and one of the parakeets passed away.” Adora scrubbed a hand down her face. “One of those days, I guess.”
Catra didn’t know what to say, and she was pleasantly paralyzed by Swift Wind, so for the time being she patted Adora’s leg with her foot. Her roommate squeezed her ankle without looking, something Catra was glad for as it shot right to her core and cheeks, warming both. Stupid, sad jock.
The longer they played, the harder it became to stay silent. Adora had That personality, the kind that made you want to spill all of your problems out to her because you knew she’d help you sort through them, or at the very least, not judge you for the mess that was your life.
“I don’t have a soulmark.”
The words burst out of her chest, half-strangled, to rattle around the silent apartment. Adora froze, she saw it, but recovered quickly. “What? I mean- how? If- if that’s not, uh, offensive?”
“Dunno.” Catra shrugged, throwing herself in front of another monster. “My family doesn’t get them. My mom didn’t have one, and neither did her mom. My grandmother claimed we were cursed.”
“Cursed?” Adora raised a brow. “Seems a bit…”
“Dramatic? Old fashioned? Tell me about it.” Catra smirked, sad and small. “But… yeah. And today, my partner came in and told us she’d found her soulmate, and that they were perfect, and when I wouldn’t gush with her because I was doing my job … everyone found out.”
“Oh, Cat,” Adora grimaced. “I’m really sorry. That’s a shitty feeling, everyone staring, looking at you with that- that feeling-”
“-pity,” Catra spat. “I hate it.”
Adora nodded, squeezing her ankle again gently. Swift Wind shifted to snuggle in closer, and Catra idly stroked her head.
“Does it bother you?” Adora asked sometime later, after they’d made it through two more levels in silence. She’d gotten up to grab unseasoned, unbuttered, unsalted, air-popped popcorn for them to split at some point, so Catra munched on a piece as she considered.
“I always tell people and myself that it doesn’t. But how could it not? The whole world is built around it. Holidays, movies, books, on and on, all about soulmarks. Entire nations’ histories defined by them. It’s… it’s life. And I don’t get to fully participate.”
Adora looked at her with something that wasn’t pity, but was still impossibly, endlessly sorrowful. Empathy, or maybe sympathy. Catra had never learned the difference. It made her blue eyes sparkle in the most beautiful, heartbreaking way.
“I don’t understand that exact brand of loss,” Adora cleared her throat. “But, I do get being restricted from life, especially the parts you wanted to be included in more than anything. When my hearing failed, and I couldn’t hear music the same way, I had to leave the band, and stop piano lessons, and I didn’t even know I’d cared that much until I couldn’t do them anymore. And then- surprise!- diabetes, and suddenly, I couldn’t eat anything anymore. I had to be careful all the time. No more parties, no more Saturdays at cafes, no more baking with my moms. Gone. Everyone all around me, just being loud and happy and carefree, made me furious.”
Catra’s eyes were wide. She’d never heard the happy-go-lucky girl so… apathetically enraged. It resonated deep inside her. “Yeah. That’s the worst. The anger. It’s- it’s all the time, always there. Just underneath the surface. And what’s even more fucked up is that I don’t want it to go away.” She dug her fingers and nails into her arms, watching the half-moons form. “Because if does, I don’t think I’ll have anything else inside. I’ll just be empty. And then… there won’t be a way to go on.”
The couch shifted, Adora getting up- but she didn’t leave. She perched carefully on the edge of the cushion she reclined on, not nearly wide enough for both of them to sit side by side. Her eyes, not even a foot from Catra’s own, burned like lightning. “I’m gonna hug you now, okay?”
She could’ve said no. She could’ve patted her shoulder and gone to bed. But what she did instead was shift up, and open her arms first. Adora’s went around her shoulder, while Catra’s snuck under to cling to her deltoids, covered by her worn red jacket. Her head was tucked against Adora’s neck and cheek, and she inhaled carefully, but deeply. Sweat, the scent of animals, and whatever woodsy deodorant and lotion she used- something with pine or cedar- filled her nose, and Catra wanted to swim in it. This was right. This was more right than anything Catra had ever done in her entire life, including ballet.
And it terrified her.
When Adora spoke, it was against her neck where she’d buried her own head. “You’re worth more than some stupid words on your skin, Catra. Everyone is. Life isn’t defined by your soulmark, it’s defined by your choices . And you have a freedom that no one else does, to completely write your story the way you and only you want to. But I am sorry it comes with such a painful price. Because you’re an amazing person, and anyone would be lucky to be bonded to you. So… don’t let go of the anger, but don’t think it’s all there is to you, okay? There’s so much more, so many incredible things, that you are.”
Tears were sliding down Catra’s cheeks again, and she hugged Adora tighter, eschewing the words that would just ruin everything. Her choice was right there, in her subconscious, in her throat, wanting to claw its way out into the open and destroy this.
So she wept, mouth buried in Adora’s jacket to stop her own demons.
–
Adora loved volunteering at the back to school drive with the community center. She loved getting to kill a day with rewarding manual labor with all of her friends, who made it a point to never miss. They got breakfast together, worked all day, and then went out to Razz’s for a job well done. It was one of her favorite days of the year, a secret holiday just for the Alliance, and this year was the best yet because Catra had come.
When she had started defining her days as ‘good’ versus ‘great’ sheerly because of the ballerina’s presence was not something Adora was going to lose sleep over. It was just a new fact of life. Ever since that night on the couch, when she’d found Catra having a panic attack, something intangible had shifted between them.
Hey, Adora .
Technically, Catra had said her words. It had happened. No one would dispute the idea, or the fact that they could be soulmates. No one but Catra, that is. And Adora got the feeling she would. She was a smidge hellbent on her own misery, and would want Adora to find her ‘right’ soulmate.
Thing is, Adora was starting to think she already had. They said there were other signs when your soul connected to its other half. So today, she decided to poke around her friends’ relationships. Newest to oldest.
“Hey, Glim,” Adora trotted up to her shorter friend, waiting on the curb for the first truck. “Besides the soulmark, how did you know Bow was your one?”
Glimmer eyed her oddly, but her coffee hadn’t kicked in enough to make her actually aware, so she let it slide. “It’s going to sound weird, I guess, but whenever he and I are near one another, I feel, like, tingly. Or bubbly, maybe? All over my body. Like I’m full of- well, sparkles, actually.”
“Huh.” Adora definitely wasn’t feeling sparkly. Whatever that meant.
Bow had similarly unhelpful comments. “Sometimes, my chest feels like its bursting!” The man was practically swooning as he stacked crates of notebooks to be unpacked. “Like there’s this glow! I know that sounds crazy, and lame-”
“No, no,” Adora snorted. On anyone else it definitely would, but Bow was too genuine. “I think it’s sweet.”
Sparkles. Exploding chests. Great, super helpful.
Perfuma was a bit more helpful. “Oh, when I met Scorpia, I felt an otherworldly sense of peace. Even now, when we’re together, everything just feels right!”
Scorpia, even more so. “All my anxiety just poofs away! Or turns into this energy- this feeling that I can do anything . I dunno if that’s just all the affirmations we do, but I think it’s something else. It feels too… deep, y’know?” The tall woman smiled fondly, eyes briefly far, far away. She snapped back quickly though. “Oh, hey, how’s Wildcat settling in?”
Adora’s smile was genuine this time. “Good! Really good. We play Crystal Castle together, and she teaches me new stretches, and we sometimes do body weight exercises, and I taught her new recipes for her diet! It’s… nice. Great. It’s been great.”
Scorpia looked ready to explode. “Oh, gosh! I’m just- I’m so happy for you! I’m glad it’s all going great.”
It was a while before she could continue her interrogations, as Mermista, Sea Hawk, Spinerella, and Netossa were across town loading huge bins of sports equipment into U-Hauls. The drive was a massive give-back to the poorer students and families who attended the private school district on scholarship. It covered tuition, but not sports or supplies. Adora knew firsthand how stressful and expensive it could be to make sure she had everything for the new year, back before Mara could work, when it was just Hope bringing home paychecks too small for the family. Adora’s lessons, her sports, her extra tutors for English and Reading, it spread them thin. But Bright Moon was a generous, tight-knit community. On nights where Mara stayed late at the PT offices, trying to be cleared for work again, and Hope pulled extra shifts, their neighbor Razz would have an extra bowl of soup for Adora, and a new Junie B. Jones book they’d read together, slow and steady to make sure she got all the words. Community centers like this one had free classes and daycares, and plenty of bookshops and small businesses donated their stationary supplies to the kids. They got by, though Adora still remembered those days with harrowing clarity.
When Mara was able to rejoin the Fire Squad, lungs clear of scar tissue and legs fully capable of holding her weight, things got easier. Hope was able to be home for dinner, dinner they could afford again, and Adora was able to play soccer and band and fencing. Her moms stopped fighting, even started going to therapy, though Adora hadn’t known what that was at the time. They smiled more, Hope stopped sleeping some nights on the couch, and they always had a hug and an ear and time for her. They’d made it through.
Now, she was just grateful to be able to give back to the community that made that possible, that let her have something of a normal childhood. She was one of the few here who did, though the only one with a harder time than her was probably Catra. Adora watched her unload packages of pencils and erasers with focused efficiency, and wondered what it had been like. From the little Catra had told her, it seemed lonely and harsh. Even on their worst nights, Adora had been able to crawl between her moms, assured of the fact that they’d hold her until sunrise. Who had held Catra?
Adora didn’t know. But she knew that she wanted to be the one to hold her now.
The others arrived with the fanfare that could be expected of Sea Hawk entering anything, anywhere, especially when Mermista was with him, groaning in annoyance. Spinnerella and Netossa were bickering, but laughing while they did. Adora thought their love language was just that- arguing. The way their eyes sparked, how they leaned in, their teasing voices. Their love was tested and true, and they all looked up to them.
Something the four latecomers had taught Adora well was that just because you were soulmates, didn’t mean you were guaranteed to get along all the time. You were gonna fight, you were gonna disagree, and you were absolutely going to be hurt and hurt in return. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to love with just as much passion.
She sidled up to Mermista, sipping a reusable coffee cup and watching her husband attempt to balance four totes too many as he came down the stairs. “You gonna tell him?”
The tote tower slammed into the wall- missing the clearance by a good five feet- and crashed back over Sea Hawk, who shrieked in terror. Mermista shrugged. “He figured it out. What’s up?”
“How else did you know you were soulmates? Besides the marks?”
“He pissed me off.”
Adora blinked. “What?”
“That’s how I knew,” Mermista slurped her coffee and pushed her sunglasses onto her head. “I’d never been angry at someone like that before.”
Mermista and Sea Hawk had met at the aquarium she directed. He was an engineer (possibly. No one actually knew what Hawk did.) called in to repair a piece of tank that was too thin. He’d slipped, fallen into the shark tank, and Mermista had been walking by when she saw. She’d dropped everything and dove in after him, getting him back on the platform in record time to yell ‘ are you insane?! ’ at the man. His eyes had widened, and he’d whispered the words on Mermista’s ribs, and that was that.
“You… what?” Adora tilted her head.
Mermista groaned, eyes rolling. “I’d never, like, cared that much, or whatever. Kay? I’d never been worried for another person that way.”
“Quite right!” Sea Hawk crowed as he popped up out of the tote avalanche. “And now, she worries all the time!”
“Yeah, thanks, dickhead,” she snorted, offering him a hand up.
Sea Hawk dusted himself off, smiling at Adora. “I knew when I stopping burning!”
“Like a rash- mmph! ” Mermista glared as Hawk used the arm he’d slung around his wife to cover her mouth.
“Whenever I’m with Mermista, I feel settled!” Adora blinked. That sounded… familiar. “I don’t want to run around, and stay busy, and sing and light fires- though I certainly will if inclined, make no mistake. All that excitement- I feel it now when I open my front door! I just want to be with her. She’s all the adventure I need.”
Adora thought back to her days before Catra. She’d run twice a day. She’d stayed at the shelter til 6, 7, 8 at night if she had nothing else to do. She went out with her friends more, stayed out later. There had been an urgent, itching boredom under her skin. Now… she just wanted to be home. Playing games, making dinner, watching bad movies- all of it was so much more fun than any bar or game night.
“Thanks, guys,” she smiled. “That helps.”
Mermista raised one brow, which didn’t have the same effect with the way she was blushing. “Helps… what? You suddenly find your soulmate?”
“No, no!” Adora laughed awkwardly, waving her hands. “Just, I dunno, curious- man, is it hot in here? It’s hot. I’m gonna- water- yep! Bye!”
“We’re not leaving anytime soon!” Mermista called after her, snickering. Adora just waved.
Settled. At peace. Excited to be around her. Caring more than ever before. Even the idea of sparkles in her blood, it didn’t not make sense. She was just starting to hyperventilate when she collided with Spinnerella.
“Whoa! Adora, what’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Adora looked up into the older woman’s kind face. The sudden need to tell someone, to be understood, was overwhelming. “Can we talk?”
—
Adora was acting… flighty. For the weeks after the school supply drive, Catra’s roommate would oscillate between totally present, and absolute space cadet. By the time Halloween had passed, Adora seemed more stressed than ever before. The shelter was short on space, and it was only a matter of time before the inevitable, depressing influx of failed holiday present pets. On this particular night, it was already 11 pm, well past both of their respectable adult bedtimes, and Adora was still awake. Catra could hear her on her phone in the kitchen, talking with Sea Hawk and Netossa about possible expansion, or an adoption event at the community center, and what it would run the shelter.
Catra swung her legs out of bed and slipped into her robe, stuffing her feet in her slippers (cat slippers, thank you Scorpia) as she made her way out the door. Adora didn’t even spare her a glance as Catra puttered around, grabbing the ingredients necessary for her own, home brewed ‘sleepytime’ tea. Nor did she look twice at Catra when the mug was placed in front of her. She just started sipping it, nodding her thanks as she jotted down more numbers and chicken-scratch words. By the time Catra hadn’t finished her skincare, stretched, and scrolled through her Instagram for twenty minutes, the sounds of voices from the kitchen had been replaced by snoring.
Catra ventured back out, took the phone from Adora’s hand, and disconnected it without a goodbye. After that, she nudged Adora awake and walked her to her room. The taller, buffer woman was practically sleep walking, so she helped her into her room and into bed. Catra took the time to glance around cursorily. Adora’s room was spartan, but in a way that spoke to necessity and efficiency rather than a lack of care. Everything was placed with purpose. Her bed was made with plain burgundy sheets and blanket. Swift Wind’s bed, next to hers, wasn’t in her way. A larger exercise bike, top of the line, took up most of the space, facing a modest TV. There were no clothes or debris. A tall stack of notebooks and papers, though, rested on the nightstand along with a tablet. Adora was clearly researching something, but that was her business.
“Catra?” She mumbled as she was lowered to the bed.
“Go to sleep, dummy. You’ve been stressed.”
“Didjoo drugged me?” Adora slurred, smirking.
Catra snorted. “Just a little. Holistically.”
“Ha!” Adora snorted and flopped back onto her bed. “Tha’s sweet. Gnine.”
“Good night, doofus.” She nudged Swift Wind with her foot on the way out. “Make sure she sleeps, dog.”
Catra crawled into bed, exhausted- only to blink awake at 3 am, roused by… something. Something loud, a sort of crash. She leapt out of bed, grabbing the taser she kept in her nightstand. Old habits died hard, after all. The apartment was dark, and she held her breath as she turned the corner into the living room, following the sounds of scuffling.
It was Adora. She laid on the couch, Swift Wind’s body flat along hers, providing pressure as she clearly fought for air against her own lungs. Catra could see the tears slipping down her cheeks in the moonlight flickering through the high rise’s windows. In the gym area, she can see the punching bag on the floor, and the pull-up bar in halves. “Adora?”
The blonde woman started, violently. “Shit- sorry-“
Catra held up her hands, waving a bit. “No, no- I’m sorry- I can go-“
“No!” Adora’s yell cracked off the cold, dark walls around them, stunning them both into a brief silence. “...Please.” She swallowed, but approached cautiously on gliding feet. Adora watched her approach with gratitude and vague amusement. “Even at three in the morning in StarFleet pajamas, you’re so graceful…”
Catra blushed, both at the compliment and the dig about her pajamas. “Yeah, well… guess that’s just my brand.” She folded herself onto the floor next to Adora’s head, leaning her crossed arms on the stretch of empty couch. Swift Wind spared her a glance, but never left his post. “Wanna talk about it?”
Adora sniffed, and more tears slipped out of her eye. “I was back in the service. It was a stupid routine training mission, but we didn’t know… we just didn’t know.”
Her eyes were started to glaze over, lost in thought. Swift Wind yipped, and she shook out of it. Catra swallowed. “Didn’t know what, Adora?”
“We were at the Whispering Woods outpost.”
Catra blanched. She knew where that was, everyone did. An old stretch of forest far north of here, historically preserved but legally off limits to non military personnel due to its role in the Horde War fifty something years ago. There were still scraps of active weaponry lying around, making the whole area volatile. “Oh, Adora…”
“We were jogging. There were no signs. Next thing we knew, we were waking up in a hospital. Most of us, anyway. That was how they found the glucose issues in my blood.”
“What was it?”
“A land mine.”
Catra sighed out of her nose, and slipping her hands into Adora’s. She loathed touch, but this felt necessary. And, now that she was here, normal. Very normal. Like they should always be doing this. “How can I help?”
Adora turned to her then, shock and confusion in her eyes. “Oh, you don’t have to-“
“I want to.” And she meant it.
Her roommate swallowed thickly. “Can you… can you hold me? Pressure helps.”
“Budge up.”
They rearranged themselves into a jumble of limbs, Catra’s back against the arm rest, Adora’s back pressed to her front, and Swift Wind sprawling across their tangled forms. She squeezed Adora’s shoulders tight, but without her full strength. She knew she was stronger than she looked- had to be to lift her partners- and the last thing she wanted was to hurt Adora.
For her part, Adora’s head was flopped against her shoulder, tucked into the curve of her neck. It was all Catra could do not to blush. “Talk to me?”
“About what?” Catra hummed. Adora’s hair was loose for once, so she took the chance to idly run her fingers through the silky blonde strands.
“Anything.”
Catra sighed. “Hmmm, okay. How about a story?”
“Sure.”
“Once upon a time, there was a little girl. The little girl had a mom, a grandmother, and a cat. They were happy together in their tiny house, until one day the mom got sick. The sick mom told her daughter she loved her very much, and that she had love herself more than anyone else. When she died, her grandmother couldn’t take care of her, so she gave her to someone who could. The lady who took the little girl was very nice. She made homemade peanut butter cookies, and let the little girl lick the spoon. She celebrated holidays where she wouldn’t eat, but then would make the most delicious food the little girl had ever had. Once, she even gave her eight wonderful presents and let her light some candles with real fire and everything. She let her read cool books and watch fun TV shows. One day, the TV was showing the Nutcracker, and the little girl was so in love with it that she danced all around the living room, copying the dancers and the rats and especially the pretty ballerina. After the lady let her watch it a bunch, a new woman came to the house. The new woman wasn’t nice, or smiley, but she watched the little girl dance, and then asked if she’d like to dance forever, all the time. The little girl couldn’t think of anything better, not even peanut butter cookies, so she said yes. And then, she moved far, far away from the lady with the cookies and presents and books.
“The new place was cold, and grey. The little girl was placed in a dormitory with nine other little girls, and every day, they danced from morning to night. They did homework, and learned piano, and funny sounding languages, and ate. That was all. The little girl didn’t mind though, because she got to dance. Her teachers told her she was the best, and let her dance with the older kids. For some reason, this made the little girl’s coach- the woman who had watched her dance first- angry, not happy. She made the little girl train for extra hours, and didn’t let her eat the same things. Sometimes, she even slapped her knuckled with rulers, or forced her to stay on her tip-toes until her feet bled. But still, the little girl didn’t mind because she was allowed to dance.
“One day, when the little girl was twelve, one of her dorm-mates kissed her in a linen closet between classes. The little girl had never felt so happy, and so scared. In that place, girls who kissed other girls were punished worse than even the coach could imagine. So, when the headmaster asked if the little girl wanted to go to a magical, warm place that danced even better and more often than her current school, she said yes, and left the girl who had kissed her behind. She was allowed to go because she was the very best, and no one else was asked. In the new place, it was okay to kiss other girls, but by then, all the little girl wanted to do was dance. The little girl grew into a young woman, and soon, she left to go on a huge journey all over the world, to dance for amazing people and huge crowds who clapped and cheered for her. For a while, she was happy.
“And then, she wasn’t. The people she danced with got greedy, and kept asking her to dance when she was supposed to rest. They wouldn’t feed her, and wouldn’t let her see her friends. When they found out she kissed girls, they punished her. So, the woman left, and joined a new team who loved her for who she was, and asked her to do her best and that was all. The woman was finally content, and she lived nicely ever after.”
Adora was silent for a long while, before she sat up, spun around, and locked eyes with her. In the moonlight, they seemed to glow an ethereal, inhuman blue, and Catra found herself bewitched. “Why not happily ever after?”
It was whispered so close to her lips that Catra was sure she could feel the shape of each word as it left Adora’s mouth. “Because she didn’t know what that felt like,” she murmured back. “So she couldn’t say for sure if she was.”
“Does she know now?” Adora’s eyes were fixed on her mouth.
Catra swallowed. “She’s starting to.”
Adora leaned in the rest of the way, and stars burst behind Catra’s eyes as their lips met- hesitantly at first, and then with growing surety as an elation unlike any other took hold behind Catra’s navel and in her heart. She felt like she was glowing . She felt like she could fly, or lift this entire building, or dance nine shows in a row without rest. Adora sighed into her mouth, and Catra’s arms tightened around her shoulders. They moved in lazy sync, learning this new dance step by careful step. When they pulled away for air, Adora’s eyes sparkled with tears of a different sort.
“Catra, I…”
But if there was one thing Catra knew about any dance, no matter how carefully choreographed, it was that they all came to an end somewhere. “Adora,” she sighed. “We can’t. You… there’s someone out there for you. And it’s not me.”
“How do you know?” Adora challenged, some of her typical fire returning.
“Because it can’t be me.” Catra hated this part the most. The reminder of what she’d never have.
“Says who-”
“The universe Adora.” She slipped gently out from underneath her. “I like you, Adora. I like you too much to let you do this to yourself. Good night.”
The muffled crying in the living room kept her awake until the sun turned her room pink.
–
The next few weeks, Catra stayed away from the apartment more often than not, and Adora spent every minute of that hating herself. She needed to make this whole thing up to her, she had to fix it-
“Uh oh. I know that look.”
Adora’s head popped off the wood of the front counter of her shelter at the familiar, raspy voice. “Mom!”
Mara Grayskull smiled at her daughter, opening her arms as Adora vaulted the counter to hug her. Swift Wind followed, snorting happily and wagging his long tail. “What’s with the long face?”
Adora bit her lip. “I kissed my roommate.”
“The ballerina?” Mara blinked. “Without a soul mark?”
“Yep, that’s the one.”
“Your mother owes me dinner,” Mara snorted. “What’s wrong with that?”
“She says I’m wasting my time on her, that liking her is just a distraction until I find my real soulmate.”
Mara hummed, leaning against the counter. “And why do you think that isn’t true?”
“Because, Mom,” Adora huffed, rolling her eyes. “I think she is my soulmate!”
“Whoa. Kid, that’s a big claim.”
“I know, I know, I just have this feeling,” she stressed. “All my friends said they felt bubbly, and cared for, and safe, and settled, and all this other junk. And- and Spinnerella told me to consult Razz and read up on not having soulmarks and it’s rare but they can be happy and-”
“Adora, baby,” Mara sighed, reaching up to hold her by the shoulders. “You can’t fix this, or force this. Catra probably has a lot of trauma about these types of situations, and isn’t lookin to get hurt again.”
Adora deflated. “I guess that’s true… I don’t want to hurt her.”
–
Catra was hurt. Emotionally, yes, for sure. But also physically because she was the gods’ favorite plaything, and her life was a farce. She had been walking out of the local cafe with several trays of iced lattes for the company- and a cappuccino for herself- when she’d done a full banana peel on the side walk thanks to a patch of very black ice. Winter had peeked in a bit early to Bright Moon, coating them with sleet and freezing rain the weekend before December 1st.
Now, she was covered in sticky latte, sitting in a hospital, having her arm prodded and moved by a stern-faced older woman. Her hair, what could be seen of it from under her heather, hood-like covering, was fuzzy from a grown out shave, and dyed a cornflower-indigo that matched the cybernetic tattoos clawing up her arm to her neck. Her vibe screamed ‘do not fuck with me’, and Catra figured her luck was shit enough for today without pushing to doctor over the edge with her panic.
“Yes, that is indeed sprained at least. We’ll need to x-ray to make sure it’s not broken.”
Catra’s heart was racing. She couldn’t dance properly with a cast, it was only six weeks to opening night, and even a sprain would throw off her balance. “Uh, alright.”
The woman walked with her to a room where a kind, young technician took the necessary shots of her arm from behind the steel wall. Then, the waiting game. Catra laid in her stupid hospital bed texting Scorpia with her good hand. She hadn’t told her friends where she was, or why, just that she was probably gonna miss dinner that night, and to give Perfuma her apologies.
She was just working up the courage to text her managers when the doctor came back in. “I have… odd news.”
“Odd?”
“Yes.” The woman stuck up the pictures to the light board but didn’t flick it on yet. “Luckily, your wrist is not broken. It’s badly sprained, so keep it immobilized, and follow the proper icing instructions. You should feel improvement by the end of the month.”
Catra sighed in vague relief. “Okay.”
“Now, the odd news-” She flicked on the lights, and pointed to the xray of Catra’s forearm. “Is this.”
At first, Catra didn’t know what she was looking at. It was just vague blobs in varying shades of gray. But as her eyes adjusted, she saw it. There, scrawled on her very bone, were words.
Oops, my bad
Catra’s heart had stopped, she was certain of it. She had a soulmark. She has a soulmate. Her soulmate was Adora. It was Adora.
“I have to go.”
“This is extremely unprecedented, and we’d love to ask you some follow up-”
“Can’t, sorry, not now!” She scrambled off the bed. “I have to- can I get a copy of those?”
The doctor blinked, and handed over a small stack of papers. “All the necessary info and pictures are in there.”
“Thanks! Uh…” Catra squinted at the name tag. “Dr. Graham!”
“Hope is fine-”
“Bye!”
Catra sprinted out of the hospital, ignoring the charge nurses shouting after her. She had to get home. She had to get to Adora.
–
Adora sat on the couch, staring at the text from Catra confirming she was coming home that night. With news. She had news.
‘Please, please don’t be moving out,’ Adora begged.
She’d talked with her mother for hours, and they’d settled on a semi-grand gesture. Adora considered the little box on the coffee table, and the holes in it. Semi… might be a slight underestimation. The key in the lock cuts off all other thought. Swift Wind straightens as she does, always in sync.
Catra walks in carefully, and Adora immediately clocks the cast on her wrist. “Catra! What happened-”
But her roommate, her friend, is smiling wider than Adora’s seen before. “I… I have news. It’s a long story. Please, sit.”
She does, and Catra settles on the couch next to her. She hasn’t noticed the box yet.
“I was getting latte’s for the company today, down on 86th, when I slipped on some black ice and sprained my wrist.”
“Oh my god!” Adora’s eyes widened. “Are you okay? Can you still dance?”
“Eh, it’s gonna be iffy for a bit, but I haven’t lost my position so that’s good enough for now,” Catra waved her off. Her blatant disregard for dance, her lifeblood, was baffling. “Anyway, when the doctor xrayed my arm for breaks… she found something.”
Adora looked down at the papers Catra pushed into her hand. It was a basic xray, she’d seen them in Hope’s office before- but there was something on Catra’s radius. Words.
Oops, my bad
She inhaled sharply, glancing up at Catra. The dancer shrugged helplessly. “The followup call- they said it’s a genetic defect, less than 1% of all people have it. Maybe 400 cases ever recorded.”
“I’m your soulmate,” Adora breathed.
“Adora,” Catra whispered, slipping her hands into hers. The papers slipped to the ground. “Does your soulmark say-”
Adora yanked the collar of her shirt down to show Catra the words etched across her very heart.
Hey, Adora
A strangled noise escaped her throat, and then they were colliding, two stars unable to resist the others gravity. Her hands left Catra’s to cradle her jaw with impossibl gentility, while Catra’s own carefully grasped her wrists. Their lips met over and over, and this time, Adora knew every step of the dance.
“It’s you,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
The sound Catra made could have been a sob or laugh, maybe both. “It’s me, Princess. Me and you.”
Catra’s lips were soft, and damp with tears, and Adora wanted to know every inch of this beautiful, captivating woman- but her gift was going to want dinner soon. She pulled away, still cradling Catra’s face, running her thumbs along her tanned jaw. “The table- I got you something. It was an ‘I’m sorry, please don’t move out’ present, but now I guess it’s more of a ‘holy fuck, I think I love you’ thing.”
Blue and hazel eyes widened, and Catra laughed, squeaky and disbelieving. “I- okay- yeah-”
Adora grabbed the box and put it in her lap. Catra pulled open the tabs-
“Mrrow?”
And gasped. “Adora- what-!”
Melog’s rusty head popped out of the box, blue-dyed fur puffed a bit as she took in her new surroundings. Her eyes found Catra’s, and she froze. “Prrp?”
“You got me a cat.”
“I did, yes. Well, I guess I got us a got, but mostly you.”
“Hey, buddy,” Catra cooed, lifting Melog out of her cardboard prison one-handedly. “Hi…”
Melog climbed onto Catra’s shoulders immediately, perching there like it was the space she was born to occupy. Maybe it was.
“Happily ever after?” Adora grinned, hopeful.
Catra looked back at her, fondly exasperated, and smirked. “Y’know, I think it really is.”
This time, when their lips met, Adora felt it then- every single sparkly, bubbly, glowing inch of what it meant to be home. As long as she had Catra, she was home