Archive of Our Own

“Thanks,” Catra says, taking the drink from Adora’s hand. Adora grins at her girlfriend as she retakes her seat. She’s sitting on the floor, with her back against a box labeled Jock Shit in Catra’s handwriting. An addendum in Adora’s handwriting beneath it says Weights.

“No problem,” Adora says. Catra presses a quick kiss to her cheek, which makes Adora smile as she reaches for her own drink on the floor beside her. Across the room, Glimmer makes a gagging noise. She’s never gotten less annoyed with their PDA, although Adora is pretty sure it’s just an act to maintain the running joke at this point.

“I still can’t believe you guys managed to get this place,” Bow says from his place beside Glimmer, leaning up against the only wall of the apartment that isn’t lined with boxes. “It has such a good view!”

Looking around the room, Adora can’t really believe it either. It’s a shockingly nice apartment for its relatively cheap price tag, especially for Bright Moon: only one bedroom, but it’s not like she and Catra need more than that, anyway, and the kitchen, living room, and bathroom are all roomy. The only real downside at the moment is the general lack of furniture.

Most importantly to Adora, though, is that it’s hers and Catra’s. They’ve been together for over three years at this point, and Adora has honestly been ready to move in together since before they even started dating. First college, and then Adora’s physical therapy degree while Catra had been finishing college had gotten in the way, but now, they finally get to live together. They get an apartment, a home to themselves, a place to start building their future.

“The view’s nice,” Adora agrees with Bow. She slips an arm around Catra’s shoulders, and Catra presses into her side immediately. “We got really lucky. I’m glad we didn’t have to look farther away from you guys.” Glimmer and Bow have been sharing an apartment since they (and Adora) graduated college at the same time, and it’s become a weekend hangout for all four of them. Adora had managed to find a place only a few blocks away from it.

“I am, too,” Catra says. “Means you guys can go home at the end of the night.” There’s a little bit of bite to the words, but it just makes Glimmer and Bow laugh. They all know that Catra isn’t actually annoyed by the prospect of sleepovers.

“You guys can stay whenever,” Adora says, ignoring Catra’s faux-irritated grunt from her side. “But maybe not tonight. We’ve got a lot of unpacking to do tomorrow.”

“It is pretty late,” Bow says, checking his phone. “We’ll see you guys next weekend? I’m guessing you’re gonna be pretty busy tomorrow.”

“Probably,” Adora says, nodding. “Maybe we could do dinner sometime this week, though?”

“We can figure it out in the group chat,” Catra says. Adora glances at her, and recognizes the look on her face as tired. She wants their friends gone so the two of them can go to bed.

“Sounds good,” Glimmer says from across the room. She and Bow start getting to their feet, and Adora follows suit, offering Catra a hand and pulling her to her feet.

They head over to the front door and say their goodbyes. There’s a lot of hugging, which Catra participates in with a scowl they all know is fake. It takes awhile, but eventually, Catra and Adora are left alone in the living room of their new apartment, surrounded by boxes and with paper plates, pizza boxes, and empty cans still on the floor.

“Alright,” Adora says, turning to Catra. “I can clean up if you wanna go get ready for bed.” Catra smiles slightly—at what exactly, Adora isn’t sure, but that’s the look of contentment Catra gets when Adora does something she likes.

“Okay,” Catra says. She leans up and kisses Adora softly. “Hurry up, though,” Catra says when she pulls away. “I wanna cuddle.” Adora grins, huge and excited. Catra rolls her eyes at Adora and disappears into the bathroom, and Adora sets to work cleaning up the living room and kitchen. It doesn’t take long, and she heads to the bathroom to brush her teeth quickly before turning the lights off in the rest of the apartment and stepping into the bedroom—their bedroom.

They had managed to set up exactly two pieces of furniture today—their bed and a small bedside table. Catra is sitting up in bed on her phone, which she locks and sets on the table to charge when she notices Adora’s presence. Adora just hovers in the doorway for a minute, taking in the sight.

“What?” Catra says, raising her eyebrows. Adora shakes her head.

“Just…you,” she says honestly. “And that we live together. Again.” Catra’s face flashes with mixed emotion at the word again. “You being there was always the best part, you know?”

“Well, yeah,” Catra says. “There wasn’t a lot of competition for good parts of our childhood, Adora.” Adora sighs, frustrated. She isn’t explaining herself correctly. “Come to bed, dumbass,” Catra says. “No feelings talk before cuddles.” Adora can’t exactly disagree with those priorities. She changes into her pajamas quickly and climbs into bed next to Catra—which takes  a little bit of thought, given that they’d set up the bed in a corner and Catra has claimed the outside edge. They’ll have to move it tomorrow.

“Better?” Adora asks as Catra presses into her side, head resting on Adora’s chest. She wraps an arm around Catra’s shoulders. Catra sleeps in a crop top—which Adora is pretty sure used to be Bow’s—in the summer months, so her hand falls across the bare skin of Catra’s lower back. Catra hisses quietly.

“Cold hands,” she mumbles. Adora starts to apologize, though she doesn’t move her hand. “They’ll warm up,” Catra says dismissively. She lifts her head so she can look Adora in the eye. “What were you trying to say?”

“Just that I missed living with you,” Adora says. “I mean, I have ever since I—since I left.” She pauses. This isn’t a sore topic for them, not the way it once was, but it isn’t a happy one, either. Catra doesn’t drop Adora’s gaze, so Adora continues. “I, uh, I used to fall asleep counting your breaths, when we were kids. And I never got used to sleeping totally alone. It was kind of a relief going to college and rooming with Glimmer and Bow. Having my own room felt lonely.” Catra shakes her head slowly.

“You are so unrelatable,” she says. “You’re the only person I can bear sharing a room with.” It’s an exaggeration—Catra can absolutely bear sharing a room with Glimmer or Bow or Scorpia, and Adora knows it—but only slightly. “I missed this too, though,” Catra says. Her tone is growing serious, and she lays her head back down on Adora’s chest. “Sharing a home with you. It’s like…I don’t know. The ultimate safety. I felt safe with Scorpia and Entrapta, and even living by myself, but with you it’s different. I guess I feel…protected. If that makes sense.” Adora makes a quiet noise of agreement, unable to quite form words. After a moment, Catra says, “Hey, Adora?”

“Yeah?”

“Your heart is pounding.” Of course it is.

“Sorry,” Adora says automatically. That makes Catra cackle.

“Don’t fucking apologize for having a heartbeat, dumbass,” she says. Adora winces.

“Uh, sorry?” Catra lifts her head again, giving Adora a look.

“I love you,” she says. “I’m glad we’re living together again. And I get that you’re having a moment right now, but I want to go to sleep.”

“Okay,” Adora says. She doesn’t really have a point to whatever she’s trying to say. Not one beyond I love you and I want to grow old together at least, and Catra already knows all that.

“Okay.” Catra moves around a bit in Adora’s arms, getting uncomfortable, then she goes still. After a few minutes, her breathing gets deep and even, and Adora is still awake.

She’s feeling too much to fall asleep. They’ve done this a thousand times since they got together in college. Adora spent more nights in Catra’s bed in her old apartment than she did in her own dorm room.

But it’s never been in a home that’s theirs, and for some reason, Adora is stuck on that. They had shared a home as kids, of course, but it hadn’t belonged to them. Their room had, their beds had, if only because they had to claim something in that house, and Adora had missed sharing that space with Catra, but it’s also so, so much better now. The apartment and the city and their queen-sized bed are all big enough for the two of them, so unlike the cramped, threadbare bunk beds they used to share as their only safe place in an unwelcoming house. There’s enough room here to build a life, not just a lifeline.

Catra makes a quiet noise in her sleep, and Adora tries to put the thoughts away. She has years, decades to sort out everything she feels. Tonight, she needs sleep, so she and Catra can unpack their things tomorrow. They have a lot of work to do—a home to build together. One full of light and love and kindness, one that looks nothing like the one they grew up in.

Catra flicks her pencil around her thumb and sighs. It flips around, landing neatly back in her palm, and she sets it down on her desk with a clack. She had intended to draw as a break from staring blankly at online job applications, but now she’s just staring blankly at her sketchbook.

She really should get back to the job applications. It’s been nearly a month now since she and Adora moved in together, and she still hasn’t managed to find a job. An art degree isn’t super marketable, sure, but she’s gotten rejected from the exact managerial position she worked pre-college at K-mart.

Logically, Catra knows that she’s just been having bad luck, and that eventually she’ll find a job. Mostly, she’s frustrated and upset that their rent is due next week, and Catra will be paying precisely none of it. Adora can afford it easily—the apartment costs maybe two-thirds of what they’d budgeted for—but Catra doesn’t like feeling like a burden. She doesn’t like relying on Adora so explicitly. It’s not as though Adora would ever take advantage of that reliance. Catra trusts Adora completely. But it still feels bad to have to lean on her like this.

Catra leans back in her chair and takes a deep breath, then slouches forward again and picks up her pencil. She shouldn’t worry so much about this, she decides as she begins to draw. Adora will pay the rent this month, and Catra will find work soon, and none of this will matter. Hell, Adora wil probably be happy to pay the rent. She’s been absolutely euphoric about every single other thing that’s happened since they moved in together. She looks like she’s floating with happiness most of the time, whenever they’re cooking together or doing chores or just existing in the same room. And Catra…

Catra doesn’t quite feel the same way.

Part of it can be explained by the fact that they’re fairly different people. Adora has always put up an optimistic front for the people around her, with very few exceptions. As the years have gone by and their lives have gotten easier, that front has become genuine. Adora is just generally happier than Catra, and more expressive of that feeling. But that’s not all of it.

It’s not as though Catra isn’t having fun. She loves living with Adora. It really is a bit like one long sleepover with her best friend. Catra gets to fall asleep in Adora’s arms every night, and she likes the domestic, boring shit, too—not that she would ever admit it out loud. It feels good, and safe, and behind the comforting warmth that sharing a home with Adora brings is another feeling. A dark, cold sensation that’s been building up for days in the back of Catra’s chest.

Catra shakes her head, trying to push the feeling away, and refocuses on her sketchbook.

She’s drawn the Sword of Protection. A perfect recreation of Adora’s back tattoo, copied down onto the paper in front of her. The cold feeling grows stronger, and suddenly, Catra can recognize it for what it is.

Claustrophobia.

Everywhere Catra turns, there Adora is. In her bed at night, in the kitchen in the morning, paying for Catra’s housing, for their food, and now she’s popping up uninvited in Catra’s sketchbook. That cold feeling, that fear, is the same thing that haunted Catra for months in college before they got together and almost ruined their relationship before it even got to begin. Fear of falling into Adora and never finding her way back out. Fear of drowning in the everything between them.

Catra needs to not be here anymore.

She pushes away from her desk. She grabs her shoes from the closet on autopilot, speed-walking  to the front door. She’ll go to Scorpia’s. She just—she needs space. She needs to find something to look at that isn’t, somehow, about Adora.

Catra opens the front door, and there, before her, is Adora.

Adora practically bounces down the hallway towards the front door of her apartment. She’d had a great day at work, and she’d decided spontaneously on the way home to grab takeout from her and Catra’s favorite restaurant. She has a bag full of food in one hand, and it smells delicious.

Adora is digging for her keys as she approaches the door, and she’s almost found them when it swings open.

“Catra,” she says, stopping in her tracks. Catra blinks at her across the threshold. “Hey! I didn’t know you were going somewhere tonight.” Adora holds the bag of takeout up, smiling a little sheepishly.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Catra says. “Sorry. I’m going to Scorpia’s.”

“Oh.” Adora pauses. Catra seems…off, somehow. Her shoulders are hunched forwards, and she won’t quite look Adora in the eye. “Is Scorpia okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Catra snaps. “I just want to go see my friend.” Adora flinches back for a moment, then frowns. Catra’s tone isn’t just bristly, it’s mean, and that’s uncalled for.

“I was just asking,” Adora says, her voice as firm as she can make it, and Catra sighs. She sounds tired.

“I know,” she says. “I’m sorry. I’m just—frustrated. I was drawing, and it didn’t go well. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.” Adora hesitates for a long moment. She can accept Catra’s apology. Catra never takes things out on Adora anymore; that’s a habit they’ve left firmly in their childhood. A momentary slip for the first time in years hardly affects Adora at all.

What she can’t figure out is why Catra is lying to her.

Catra’s dealt with art block before, and it doesn’t look like this. She gets frustrated, sure, but Catra is upset right now. Besides, Adora memorized the way Catra’s voice sounds when she lies when they were six. She knows something else is bothering Catra.

Calling her out on it won’t help, Adora decides. Catra keeps glancing down the hallway like she wants to escape—the apartment or this conversation specifically, Adora isn't sure—and she must know that Adora can tell she’s lying. This conversation can wait.

“Okay,” Adora says, accepting Catra’s apology. “We’ll talk when you get back?” Catra nods.

“Put my food in the fridge,” she says. “I’ll eat it later.” Adora agrees, and then steps aside, giving Catra space to walk out of the apartment. Catra pauses beside her, leaning up to kiss her. It lasts a little longer than Adora expects it to, given that they’re very much in public even if the hallway is empty but for them, and it’s…desperate is the wrong word, but it feels like Catra wants something. And, given the dissatisfied look that appears on her face for the briefest moment when she pulls away, Adora assumes she doesn’t find it.

“See you later,” Catra says, and then turns and walks away. Adora mumbles something similar in response, and watches Catra go for a minute before stepping into the apartment.

Adora sets the food on the counter and heads to their bedroom. She loves her job, and it allows her to wear more casual clothes than she could get away with in just about any other profession because she needs freedom of movement, but she’d still rather wear sweatpants and a tank top in her own home. While she’s in the bedroom, she spots Catra’s sketchbook, open on her desk.

Adora shouldn’t snoop. She really shouldn’t. Catra is picky about which pieces of hers Adora sees, and random things from her sketchbook probably don’t fall into the okay category. But Catra had seemed so upset, and unwilling to talk about it. Maybe there will be some clue on the open pages as to what is bothering her.

Adora promises herself that she will only look at the open page and leans over to look.

Sketched out on the page is the Sword of Protection.

Adora stares at it for a long moment, looking for clues, but it’s indistinguishable from the version she has tattooed across her back. The fact that Catra had reproduced it so exactly is hardly surprising, given that she drew the original design and that she sees Adora’s tattoo all the time. It doesn’t offer a single hint as to what Catra is upset about.

Unless she’s upset with Adora.

Adora pushes that thought away and moves on with her evening. If Catra was mad, she would’ve said something, Adora tells herself as she puts Catra’s food in the fridge and eats her own dinner alone at the table. They don’t ever let conflict fester, she repeats as she goes through her evening workout routine. They’re talking about it when Catra gets back, she thinks as she gets out of the shower and finds a new text on her phone.

I’m staying at Scorpia’s tonight.

Adora looks at the text—sent 9:17 PM, nearly four hours after Catra left the apartment—and tells herself that things are fine. If it was Adora that was bothering Catra, she would’ve said something. Adora doesn’t need to be scared. She’s worried, and they’re going to have to have a talk about spontaneously spending the night away and making Adora anxious on top of their talk about whatever’s bothering Catra, but she doesn’t need to be scared.

Adora finds it difficult to sleep alone.

Scorpia has already left the apartment by the time Catra wakes up in the morning. It’s not a surprise; Scorpia had told her, when she let Catra stay, that she had to work an early shift at the hospital the next morning. Catra is grateful Scorpia let her stay over at all. She had spontaneously showed up, clearly upset, refused to speak about what was bothering her, and slept over when Scorpia had to get up at four in the morning the next day. Scorpia hadn’t been the least bit bothered by any of it. Catra will have to do something to thank her for all this soon.

Catra doesn’t take too long getting ready to leave. There’s no pressure to do so—Scorpia lives alone these days—but Catra feels…energized, sort of. Less preoccupied and irritated than she has in days. She slept poorly on Scorpia’s couch instead of happily in Adora’s arms, and she woke up without the feeling of pressure in her mind that she’s realized she’s been fighting for days.

Catra is not oblivious. She can tell that this doesn’t bode well for the conversation she’s about to have with Adora.

Catra takes a quick shower and leaves the apartment. She delays going home, though. She stops for breakfast and coffee at a little café, and walks home from there instead of taking an Uber or something. She isn’t trying to avoid Adora. She’s just afraid that, when she gets home, that cold fear will return instantly.

Eventually, though, Catra gets home. She fishes her keys out of her pocket to unlock the door, and when she steps through, she finds Adora standing in the kitchen, looking at her.

“Hey,” Catra says uncertainly. She kicks the door shut behind her.

“Hey,” Adora says. She’s quiet, apprehensive, and it makes Catra’s heart clench. She didn’t mean to hurt Adora. She never wants that.

Catra walks forward and does the only thing she can think of to make it up to Adora: she kisses her. She puts everything she can into it, wrapping her arms around Adora’s back and pressing them as close together as she can.

The fear does not return. The walls aren’t closing in on her. Adora is everywhere around Catra, and it feels good.

When she eventually has to pull away to breathe, Adora is grinning.

“Okay,” Adora says. “I guess you aren’t mad at me.” Her tone is light, but there’s relief behind it. It makes Catra want to cry.

“No, dumbass,” she says. “I’m not mad at you.” She tightens her arms around Adora, pulling them back together, but this time, into a hug. Catra buries her face in Adora’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I made you think that,” she says quietly. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I know,” Adora says. “I just got in my own head. It’s okay.” She sounds like she means it. “You wanna talk about what’s actually bothering you?”

No. No, Catra does not, because she can see the events of yesterday through to their logical conclusion. In the hallway outside their apartment, Catra had kissed Adora and felt scared. Today, having spent the night away, kissing Adora was safe, and good, and home.

Catra cannot lose Adora. She can’t lose how good their relationship is now. And, maybe selfishly, she wants to be as happy as she can possibly be—which means not putting on a brave face for the sake of sharing a home.

Catra needs to move out. But God, she does not want to.

“Tonight,” Catra says softly, not moving from Adora’s embrace. “I don’t wanna ruin your work day.” Catra knows Adora. She knows that this news is going to hurt her, no matter how gently Catra tries to deliver it. She doesn’t want to throw it at her at eight in the morning and send her off to pretend she’s fine all day.

“Okay,” Adora says. “Tonight.” Catra nods slightly and stays right where she is, cheek pressed against Adora’s collarbone. Adora doesn’t protest. She holds Catra tight, and they stay there in the kitchen for what feels like twenty minutes, but is probably less than five. Eventually, Adora clears her throat. “Speaking of my work day,” she says quietly. “Not that I’m not enjoying the hug, but I do have to go.” Catra makes a wordless noise of displeasure, but disengages from the hug and steps away. Adora releases her, but she doesn’t walk away just yet. She looks at Catra, eyes concerned and appraising.

“What?” Catra says eventually. Adora shakes her head slightly.

“Are you okay?” she asks. Catra shuts her eyes. She doesn’t want to lie to Adora again.

“Just go to work, Adora,” she says. “We’ll talk tonight.” She opens her eyes. Adora’s gaze has only gotten more concerned, but she listens to Catra, stepping out of the kitchen to go change for work.

Adora leaves not long afterwards. Catra kisses her goodbye, then locks up the door behind her. Alone in the apartment, Catra can’t think of a single thing to do. She isn’t sure anything would distract her from tonight.

Sleep, maybe. A nap would get her a few hours forward in the day, at least, without having to think about anything. Besides, she hadn’t slept that well on Scorpia’s couch. She could use the rest.

Catra heads to their bedroom, changing into her pajamas without paying much attention to her actions. The bed is neatly made—Adora always makes it—and she crawls under the covers without disturbing it too much. The shades are drawn, the lights are off in the room, and it’s comfortably warm.

Sleep still doesn’t come easy. Lying there, Catra can’t help but think about the fact that this will be gone soon. The bed that’s theirs, the home that’s theirs. Catra is comfortable wherever Adora is, but there is something different about having a place that belongs to them.

Catra wants to share a home with Adora. She wants the safety, and the closeness, and the utter mundanity of going grocery shopping together or sitting in the living room after dinner and listening to Adora do the dishes. But all of that comes packaged with the encroaching claustrophobia, and Catra can’t live with that.

Catra cries for awhile, then sleeps for awhile longer. It passes the time, but it doesn’t make her feel any better.

“I think we’re ready, here,” Catra says quietly. Adora looks up from her phone to where Catra is standing at the stovetop, peering down at the pasta she’s stirring. Cooking together has become part of their routine since they moved in—or, at least, Catra cooking while Adora watches, and occasionally fetches materials or chops vegetables. Most nights, the process involves music, laughter, a lot of conversation. Tonight, it’s been mostly quiet. They’d asked each other only a few questions about their days. Adora hadn’t tried to initiate further conversation. Catra doesn’t seem particularly receptive.

Dinner, too, is quiet. It isn’t awkward—Adora and Catra have known each other for nearly twenty years, now; they’re perfectly comfortable in each other’s silence. But the thing that bothers Adora is that most of the time, they don’t like to be quiet. They love talking to each other. They’ve never once run out of things to say. And so the silence is not uncomfortable, but it does make Adora worry.

Eventually, their plates are empty, and there’s nothing left to distract them from the conversation that they’ve been waiting to have. Adora doesn’t know where to begin; she just looks at Catra across the table, counting in her head while she breathes to soothe the nerves in her stomach. Catra doesn’t quite look back. Her eyes have settled somewhere over Adora’s shoulder, and she’s chewing her lip anxiously, tension radiating from her form.

“Catra,” Adora says eventually, when a long minute has passed without either of them speaking. Catra’s eyes flick over to hers, and Adora sees fear there before they drift away again. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Adora asks. She keeps her voice quiet, as gentle as she can.

“I…” Catra takes a deep breath. “I think I need to move out.” Adora’s heart stops.

“You…” Adora shakes her head. “You said—did I do something? I—“

“No.” Catra finally looks at her, and she looks desperate, like she needs Adora to believe her. “You didn’t do anything. You’ve been—so good to me, I just—I—“ She goes silent, resting her head in her hands. Adora takes advantage of the quiet moment to push back against the voice in her head that’s saying she has to have done something wrong. Catra wouldn’t want to leave if she hadn’t.

But Catra is saying that, whatever’s happening, it isn’t because of Adora. Adora would rather take her girlfriend’s word for it than trust the part of her brain that wants everything to be her own fault.

“Can you tell me what changed?” Adora asks. “If it wasn’t something I did?” Catra lifts her head and nods.

“I’m starting to feel…trapped,” she says. “You know how I am about space.” Adora nods slightly. So much of their relationship has been about building around each other’s trauma. She’s very familiar with Catra’s fear of codependency. “It’s not anything you did,” Catra says, and Adora is fighting to believe her, but it’s nice to hear it again. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before we moved in. I was just so excited for it to finally happen, I didn’t even think to wonder if it was something I could do.” Adora’s throat is dry. She picks up her water from in front of her and sips it slowly, trying to make sense of Catra’s scattered words.

“Is it…me?” Adora asks eventually. “Just…too much of me?” The words come out raw. She can’t help it. This has always been one of her biggest fears: wanting too much, taking too much. Being too much. Catra gives the smallest nod.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispers. “Or mine. It’s just—my fucking brain.” Adora nods and tries to believe her. “I realized it yesterday,” Catra says. “That’s why I stayed at Scorpia’s. I just couldn’t be here anymore. I needed to feel like…like I’m my own person. I needed things to not be about you for a little bit.”

“I understand,” Adora says. She doesn’t, really. She doesn’t understand how Catra feels, but she knows that this is something Catra has always struggled with, will always struggle with. Whatever Catra needs, Adora will find a way to give her.

“Can we move to the couch?” Adora asks. “I want to hold you.”

“Please.” Catra is up and out of her chair before she even finishes the word. Adora sits down on the couch first, and Catra settles beside her, throwing her legs over Adora’s lap. She rests her head on Adora’s shoulder, and Adora’s arms come up, one wrapping around Catra’s back and the other settling across her thighs.

“So,” Adora says. Catra’s head stays on her shoulder, unmoving. Adora can feel Catra’s breath on her neck. “You want to move out.” Catra exhales hard.

“I don’t want to,” she says. “I love you, and I want to live with you. I want to have a home with you, Adora, I just don’t know if I can.” She sounds like she’s in pain. Adora holds her tighter.

“I love you, too,” she murmurs. She can hear a hitch in Catra’s breathing, like she’s about to cry, and Adora lets the conversation die, giving Catra time to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” Catra says after awhile. “I wish I could make this work.” Adora hums quietly. There isn’t much she can say, other than that she wishes that, too, and that wouldn’t make Catra feel better. “You—you deserve someone who can stay with you.” Adora is already forming a protest, but Catra keeps talking. “Someone normal and…whole, I guess. You know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Adora says. She leans back and looks down so she can meet Catra’s eyes. “You are whole, Catra, and I want you. Fuck what I deserve, I love you. And if you need to move out, I’ll go apartment hunting with you.” Catra half-smiles, but there are tears gathering in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Always.” Adora kisses her forehead. “I don’t know how fast we can find you a new place. Do you want to stay at Scorpia’s in the meantime?” Adora intends the words to soothe. They have the exact opposite effect. The tears in Catra’s eyes begin to fall.

“No,” she says. “I wanna stay with you.” She wipes at her eyes and lets out a shaky, frustrated breath. “It’s bullshit that it bothers me now,” she says. “Like I wasn’t spending five nights a week at your place already.”

“Well, yeah,” Adora says. “But you still had your dorm. You had a place to be that wasn’t about me.” Judging by the expression on Catra’s face, that’s the root of the problem right there.

“Maybe I can just stay at Scorpia’s sometimes,” Catra says. She sounds doubtful even as she says it. “Instead of moving out. I feel better today since I stayed over there, maybe I could—“ Adora is already, albeit reluctantly, shaking her head.

“You deserve your own space,” she says. “If—if that’s what you need, you should have somewhere that belongs to you, instead of going back and forth sharing.” Catra stares at her until Adora shifts in place, wondering if she said something wrong. “What?” she says.

“You’re just way too fucking thoughtful about all of this,” Catra says. “Shouldn’t you be mad? Or at least, like, disappointed?” Adora pauses, gathering her thoughts.

“I am disappointed,” she admits, averting her eyes to avoid seeing the look on Catra’s face. “I—I love having you here. I want you to be here. But if it’s a choice between getting what I want and letting you be happy, I’m gonna choose you every time.”

“Adora—“

“Let me finish.” Catra nods, though she doesn’t look happy about it. “I wouldn’t be happy if you stayed and I knew you didn’t like it,” Adora says. “I don’t want you to be upset, or hurt. That’s the furthest thing from what I want.”

“I just don’t like that my problems are taking this away from us,” Catra says. She ducks her head again, resting it against Adora’s chest. Adora props her chin on top of Catra’s head.

“I mean, it’s not like you’re going to stop sleeping over,” Adora points out. “It’s been almost a month, and it’s just now gotten hard for you, right?” Catra hums what vaguely sounds like an affirmation. “So, I mean, you can still be here most of the time. This can still be our home. But we’ll get you your own place for when you need it.” She’s beginning to realize that what she’s described does not sound like moving out, which is what Catra had clearly said was something she needs. She’s about to apologize when Catra lifts her head and kisses her.

“I love you,” Catra says. Adora can’t even respond before Catra kisses her again. “It is going to be,” kiss, “such a waste of money to get a place I only stay in every three weeks.” Catra doesn’t sound upset about it in the slightest. Apparently, Adora hasn’t made a bad suggestion, and in fact made a very good one.

“We can afford it,” Adora says. “Especially once you find a job.” A different thought is forming in her mind now, one she’s about ninety-five percent sure Catra will like. “Besides, we could move your painting stuff there,” Adora says. “You like having your own space to work anyway. That way it would be worth the money, and you would have a place to stay when you need it.”

“Why the fuck are you so good at this?” Catra says. Adora blinks at her. She isn’t sure what she’s being good at right now. “Why do you just—know what I need?”

“I do?”

“Shut up.” Catra kisses her again, almost aggressively this time. Adora isn’t totally sure what’s happening, but she doesn’t fight it.

The kiss doesn’t lead to anything, though. Catra backs off eventually, sinking back into Adora’s arms. She’s a little limp—tired, maybe—and Adora realizes that she, too, is exhausted. It’s not exactly late, and their dinner plates are still on the table, but they own enough dishes by now that washing tonight’s can wait for tomorrow morning.

“Do you wanna go lie down?” Adora asks. The emotional weight of the conversation has taken its toll on both of them, and she kind of just wants to lie in their bed and be reminded that it’s theirs, even if their situation is about to change a bit.

“Yeah,” Catra says, resting her head on Adora’s shoulder. “I’d like that.” She doesn’t move, doesn’t even indicate that she’s going to move.

“You want me to carry you, huh.”

“Yep.” With a deep sigh, Adora slips an arm beneath Catra’s knees, shifts her other to the small of her back, and stands up off the couch. Catra’s bodyweight isn’t difficult to lift, but the angle isn’t great and Adora wobbles on her feet a bit as she straightens.

“Don’t drop me, princess,” Catra mumbles into Adora’s neck. Adora smiles, regaining her balance and beginning to walk towards their bedroom.

“Never,” she promises. She carries Catra into the room and sets her gently on top of the blankets. Catra is lying down for about five seconds before she groans in annoyance.

“I can’t sleep in jeans,” she says, and stands up out of bed. Adora rolls her eyes and almost makes a smart comment about how Catra wouldn’t get up to walk but will get up for this, but she isn’t quite up to banter right now. She really just wants to be held.

They change quickly into their pajamas and settle into bed. Catra kicks the covers down around their waists, which Adora doesn’t mind one bit. It’s a lot easier to reach out and pull Catra closer to her without the blankets in the way.

“I’m coming, chill,” Catra says. She scoots up on the pillows and pulls Adora’s face into her neck, reversing their earlier position. Adora just sighs happily instead of responding with words. She isn’t physically tired enough to fall asleep, but lying here with Catra is doing wonders for her mind and her heart. Plus, Catra is doing that thing where she scratches at Adora’s scalp, which makes every muscle in Adora’s body relax.

“Hey, Adora?” Catra says after awhile. Adora hums, not quite up to forming words. “What if—what if the studio thing doesn’t work? What if I still need to move out?” With great effort, Adora lifts her head, looking Catra in the eye.

“Then you move out,” she says, “and we figure it out from there.” Catra doesn’t look happy with that, so Adora kisses her. “I’m spending my life with you,” she says when she pulls away. “And however that looks, we’ll find a way to make it work. Not just work, we’ll make it good. Okay?” Catra nods. The conflict in her eyes hasn’t quite disappeared, and Adora gets the feeling this isn’t the last time they’ll have to talk about this, even if the studio works out.

That doesn’t bother her, though. Adora means what she’s said. She has a lot of things she hopes for in their future together, but the only thing she needs is Catra. The details—the places they live, together or apart—are changeable. Adora will adjust to whatever they end up being; she’ll fall in love with the way things are, so long as they involve Catra.

Whatever their home ends up looking like, Adora is going to treasure it.