Work Text:
"Sometimes,
the universe is
much too
beautiful for
my own good.
Sometimes;
you are
the universe."
-Christopher Poindexter
The night is a beautiful one.
It's just past dusk - rivulets of daylight loll on the horizon, stretching along where land meets sky in a brilliant burst of warm hues. They cut into the deep navy blue of the night sky and the dark purples of the fields that sway and stretch before them. Stars of all shapes and colors blink down at them on their little slope they've perched themselves on, some tracing lines and patterns across the sky. It thrives and pulses, breathing and bleeding magic and life like they've never known.
At least, that had been the case three years prior.
Now nights like this are well into normal. Whereas a majority of the people of Etheria still reel at the novelty of a night sky so alive and bright, times are changing. New generations are born into a world with stars and life beyond what they've known. Blood continues to run, no longer from war but from love - parents to their children who will be the ones to kickstart a new era of interplanetary peace.
And that peace will be passed onto their children who will also be ignorant to a world without stars and then to their children and so forth, until only tales and whispers of shadow dimensions remain. For them, it will only be written history, scripted alongside counts of an epic battle on a universal scale, conquered by a golden warrior whose heart bled on her sleeve like armor.
But that is later.
And this is now.
Now, the night is just beautiful.
Perched on their little hill, the scenery settles into pin-pricked darkness that would be enough to steal the breath of any mortal who stares into it. The view is spectacular in no ordinary sense of the word.
But it's not the view that Catra is focused on. And it's not what makes the night so beautiful.
A blanket is spread underneath her, a shimmering lilac splotch in the dark off-blues and purples of the grass that whispers to the breeze. As she lays on her back, hands folded across her abdomen, that light breeze rustles the lapels of her shirt and dances with the bangs that frame her face. Knees pointed up and crossed over each other, she lets the coolness of night wash over her, her stress from the day ebbing away with each inhale of the majesty of night moonlight.
Her eyes, blue and gold that glow in the darkness, lovingly caress the form of the one who sits beside her, gold flaxen hair waltzing with the moving air and gleaming white when pulled into the moonbeams. It's longer now - to the middle of her back - at Catra's insistence. Granted, it was a request in the form of a jaunt ("For someone so jealous of She-Ra's hair, you seem pretty stubborn to keep yours short"), but months later and she noticed that it had grown some inches. After that, it had been simple to convince her to leave it down more and more often, until hair ties were more of a distant memory than an essential piece to her outfits.
One of Catra's favorite pastimes is going through it - either with a brush or her fingers. Sometimes both. Sitting on her knees and carding the brush through its length, fingers twisting and plaiting it when she is particularly bored, letting go just to see how it falls apart. She normally does this when Adora is otherwise occupied, attention focused on papers or documents, mulling over fine print with a dent in her lip while Catra busies herself with her locks, nails scratching against her scalp when her shoulders rise too far.
Sometimes, she sings while she does it.
(But only for Adora.)
Other times, Adora will read out loud to her, though they both know that Catra never actually pays attention. The words and their meanings aren't what concern her anyway. She takes delight solely in hearing Adora's voice, soft and murmuring as she squints and stumbles through official treaties and reports.
And when her words start to stumble and slur, Catra sets aside the brush and pulls her into her chest, arms looped around her waist, to take over. She picks up wherever Adora leaves off, reading the words without actually registering them, until Adora is snoring softly in her embrace, fingers limply gripping the paper.
Only when Catra is certain that Adora is long gone, she presses a kiss to her temple and holds her just a bit longer while humming a gentle tune. Once the melody escapes her and sleepiness begins to creep in, she'll lean in, lips to Adora's ear. Whispering her affection, her affirmations, promises and wishes and desires, like she's done a thousand times before. Like she'll do a thousand times more.
In the morning when she wakes, Adora - outlined in the shimmering morning light and awash in gold - will be smiling at her as if she heard every word.
Right now, she's bathed in pale moonlight, the entirety of the night sky reflected in her baby blues. The softest of smiles pulls at her lips, quiet contentment spelled across every inch of skin bared to the night air. Draped around her shoulders is Catra's jacket - the one she had made a year and a half after they started dating with She-Ra's colors; a silent statement that she is hers, a declaration that tied her to Adora in every aspect to ward off her many admirers (because Catra, for all the good she's done and continues to do, is still a very jealous and selfish person) - the sleeves hanging empty beside her.
Catra watches as her girlfriend basks in infinite starlight, while she herself basks in the shine of the brightest star she's ever seen.
Adora sighs and stardust scatters, swirling in the air and sky. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of this view." She turns and tucks some hair behind her ear as the breeze picks up. The stars in her eyes light up her whole face, painting it with impossible serene beauty and Catra's heart swells so large it blocks her airways.
"Yeah," Catra mutters. Her eyes rake over Adora's relaxed posture, the soft curve of her neck and shoulders, the way the moonlight kisses her skin with a softness that Catra can only dream to achieve. She's ephemeral and unreal, one with the universe and all that it contains, a being beyond words. "Me neither."
Adora takes one of her hands in her own, lifting it to her lips and placing a kiss on her knuckles, holding it there. Their eyes lock and Catra feels herself plummeting in their depths. She's drowning, lungs burning with the innate need to breathe. But she doesn't try to claw herself to the surface, doesn't fight for the air her body cries out for. Instead, she sinks deeper and deeper and deeper, crushed by the depths in a tight, loving embrace. Steady and certain. Constant.
She'll drown endlessly to never be let go.
The next words she blurts without thought, but with every ounce of her chest. "Marry me."
Stunned, Adora falters, smile twitching before falling completely, and her lips part in pure shock. Her eyes bore into hers, seeking, but Catra remains firm.
Another moment and Adora breaks out into a shaky grin, laughter unsure and breathy. "I...what?"
Never faltering or backing down, Catra squeezes Adora's hand, thumb brushing across the smooth skin of the back of it. "Tell me you'll marry me."
Her next laugh is more of a rushed exhale, but when Catra doesn't move, doesn't back down, the corner of her lips twitches again and she blinks rapidly. "You're serious?"
This time Catra rolls her eyes. She always has been oblivious, but that's natural. Tugging Adora forwards, she's forced to catch herself with an arm outstretched, face hovering inches from Catra's. Her hair slips over her shoulders, framing her face as it cascades down, curtaining their shared space in gold.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"I…" She trails off, teeth burrowing into her bottom lip as she considers the question. "I don't know." They lock eyes again, and Catra sees hers wavering in a confused uncertainty. "Why?"
Catra hums, her free hand coming between them to thumb at Adora's lip, freeing it from her bite. Then she swipes it across until it reaches the corner, lifting it up and back to repeat the motion. "I figured it was self-explanatory enough."
Adora shakes her head almost imperceptibly, eyes never straying. "No, I mean...why now?"
There's silence as Catra takes the moment to pause and consider it. It's a good question. She's just not entirely sure of the answer. She just...there's something inside her, telling her that this feels right. That Adora feels right. With the proposition out there, she can't imagine any better way to be with her. Her timing, though spontaneous, is not random or thoughtless. This may not have been her plan to top off the night, but now that they're here, it feels like this is how it was always meant to go.
But to answer the question, "I don't know." And it's the truth.
The smile returns to Adora's face, teasing and amused. "You're an idiot, you know that?"
Catra laughs, fingers pinching a lock of Adora's hair that is brushing against her jaw and tugs on it. "That's my line."
Adora hums, face lowering and eyes hooded. Her breath is cool and sweet, eyes alight with mirth and adoration of the highest caliber. "Well, I've been told that marriage is all about give and take. What's yours is mine," their lips bump together, brushing so softly and faintly that it resembles more of a ghost of a kiss, an almost, a breath of a promise not solidified. Then Adora pulls back, shifting her weight from the arm keeping her afloat to rest on Catra's chest. Her finger tips brush the fluff of her chest and drum along with the rhythm of her heartbeat.
"And what's mine is yours."
Catra smirks, a single eyebrow raised. "So is that a 'yes'?"
Lifting herself up, Adora tears her eyes away to look off in the distance, beyond the fields, beyond the horizon, traveling from star to star. Her face is pensive, eyes lost to another place or time, and Catra waits for her patiently, like she always will. If it means that Adora will come back, back to her, she'd wait for as long as it takes. She'd wait forever, one lifetime after another, because Adora? Adora is worth it.
Luckily for her, it won't be necessary. Adora returns from wherever her travels had taken her to, vibrancy in her eyes and a smile tinged with fondness, both of which she directs at Catra. "Okay. Okay, yeah. Let's do this."
Catra pushes herself up, shoulder bumping into Adora's, smirk softening into a grin. "Yeah?"
Adora giggles - the sound pierces Catra's heart and she bleeds, a pool of love, admiration, yearning and want spilling around her - and nods. She brings her arms up to Catra's shoulders, crossing her wrists behind her neck and pulls herself in until their foreheads are touching.
"Yes!"
Their lips meet and Catra can taste every individual constellation.
When they pull away and Catra looks into Adora's eyes, she realizes that within the depths, past the expanse of starlight and galaxies, she can see a glimpse of the future. It's bright and warm. It's boring and it's bliss. It's steady and sure and it's exciting and new. But mostly…
It's Adora. It always has been.
In the next second, something occurs to her. She's almost hesitant to admit it but….
"Um...I don't have a ring."
A beat of silence passes between them. Adora blinks before her face contorts into one of the smuggest looks Catra's ever seen on her. Fingers tap a line upwards from her upper back to the back of her head (skipping the base of her neck) as she devolves into contained laughter. When Catra growls at her to "shut up" (with no actual bite to the command), it serves only to make her laugh harder.
Over their heads, the stars and planets shift with every bounce of her shoulders, and even when she should be annoyed, Catra marvels at how the universe seems to react solely to one person, one girl. The veil of the night spins around them, with Adora at the center of everything, the pivotal orbit on which everything in existence is balanced.
Once she's calmed down, Adora grins at her with tears in the corners of her eyes, pools containing galaxies and for each drop that will spill births hundreds of new moons. Catra thumbs one of them away, scattering them across the millions of quadrants.
"I don't need a ring," Adora assures, fingers spinning Catra's curls. Her voice, so saccharin and echoing, traverses through time and space themselves, reverberating beyond Etheria. Catra brushes her lips lightly against Adora's, wanting it all to herself.
(Because she is jealous.)
(Because she is selfish.)
(Because Adora is hers.)
"You'll get one anyway," Catra murmurs, excited in the way that Adora's breath shudders, her grip tightening in her ponytail. "So everyone can see. How much I love you." Fangs scrape against supple flesh and Catra wonders if she bites down hard enough that Adora will bleed pure light. "And that you are mine."
Her hands find Adora's waist and in seconds her weight is on Catra's lap.
"You don't need a ring for that."
Catra shakes her head and smiles. "Can't risk it. Won't leave any room for doubt."
Adora hums and leans forward and Catra meets her halfway. When they collide, it's a supernova, and Catra is consumed by bright lights and a fierce heat that has her gripping tighter, digging in her claws and pressing close, closer, closer until she's sure that she'll be absorbed entirely. Keeping a steady hold on Adora's waist, Catra turns them over so that Adora is on her back. She catches the sigh that Adora breathes out, biting down and pressing at an angle that twists it into a moan.
Adora breaks off the kiss, heaving air and Catra wants to weep as she takes in her surrealness. Hair fanned out beneath her, a halo of gold and shimmering white, framing her in such a perfect way that she just can't be real.
And then Adora's hand is cupping her cheek and as Catra leans into the touch, she knows that she is and, just maybe, the universe is kind after all.
"I want you to have a ring, too," Adora states. "To show that you're mine."
A warmth flowers in her chest, flames licking her bleeding heart and burning her from the inside-out - charring her insides, consuming her whole with a burning desire for the girl underneath her and only her. Adora is the only one capable of such things. Adora is the only one allowed to have such an effect on her.
"I always have been."
Catra's hand raises to cover Adora's before pulling it away, interlacing their fingers and pinning it to the blanket as she surges forward, lips hot as she passes the flame. Adora shivers, the smallest of noises escaping only to be muffled against Catra's lips. They're both burning alive, clinging to each other as the flames roar hotter and higher. And neither of them can find it in them to mind, succumbing to their fate - no, their choice - to fall into each other fully and without hesitation. The embers of their love float high above, beyond the atmosphere and flickering through space; marks of their commitment, their eternity.
The stars watch everything, writing their love across the sky.