Chapter Text
Adora feels restless.
She spent the past hour alternating between lifting heavyweights and attacking the punchbag with ferocity. Despite its abundance of various rooms, Darla had no dedicated gym, so with Entrapta’s generous help, Adora created some DIY equipment utilizing what she hoped were the ship’s spare parts. Perhaps the skipping rope is made of something reminiscent of the mainframe wires, and the treadmill makes sounds of a heavily constipated cyborg whenever used, but they do a pretty good job withstanding Adora’s exercise and distracting her from her thoughts.
Or, at least they used to. Before Catra came along.
There’s something frightening about how quickly Adora’s eased back into trusting Catra, given the circumstances. And not at all because she expects any betrayal from her (it feels like they’ve outgrown betrayals at this point). Adora’s not the least bit scared of Catra, but rather of how unexpectedly intense her own feelings for her are. Almost as if vowing to never care for her former best friend again did nothing to diminish them, and the harder she tried to bottle them up, the more they flooded right back the second Catra’s voice reached her from the speakers.
They also settled back into their old rhythms almost as soon as any immediate danger was out of the way. Spending hours on hours nestled in Catra’s bedroom, catching up on three years of gossip and inside jokes, Adora feeling genuine excitement at sharing every gross little aspect of her life. There are few things as endearing as Catra’s freckly face breaking in a kind and gentle smile, as Adora rambles on about the excessive softness of the Bright Moon beds or recites her favourite parts of a horse saddle.
Yet there’s something else there too. Some other unease that Adora cannot quite identify, a spark of nervousness in her stomach that flares up whenever she sees that mischievous gleam in Catra’s eyes, or when their pinkies accidentally brush against each other. It drives her crazy that she can’t quite figure it out, because if there is one thing Adora hates above everything, it’s uncertainty.
Her best guess so far is that this must be the stain of the past years weighing over them. She holds no resentment for everything that happened between them, but there are still things she struggles to understand about Catra, and this worries her. Last time they left far too many things unsaid between them until they grew to unbearable sizes, and she is not about to make the same mistake again.
One thing is certain, they need to talk this through. And that prospect is making Adora restless.
She lets the punchbag swing violently after a solid right cross she managed to land, before stepping back to take a breath. Her calloused knuckles have a few bloody cracks on them already, which is usually a good sign that she may have slightly overdone it. She wipes her forehead with her wrist, reaches for a towel to toss over her shoulders and grabs the water bottle.
Quick run to the kitchen before showering. If tiring out did nothing to relieve her obsessive plans on how to approach the touchiest subjects with Catra, then perhaps a few spoonfuls of peanut butter will.
Should she attempt to rehearse this beforehand? Write the speech down? How would that even go? Hey, Cat, I’m having the time of my life with you, but I was kinda wondering what exactly made you so insistent on trying to kill me for the past three years?
Maybe she could try getting them both drunk and playing truth or dare, or some other uncomfortable game of confessions with very flexible rules? Seems to have really worked for Glimmer alright.
“Hey, Adora.”
The raspy voice causes her to let out an indignant yelp as she screeches to a halt. Adora is so focused on perfecting her imaginary conversation plan that she doesn’t notice the actual Catra leaning against the exit’s doorframe.
There she is, all triangle ears, freckled nose and pouty lips. The girl who holds the world record for the number of attempts at killing her, who teamed up with her to destroy Glimmer and Bow at charades last night. Shoulders against the wall, brown paper bag in one hand, and what looks like a folder full of Bright Moon’s classified data in the other, blue lighting of the room reflecting in her mismatched eyes.
Adora feels dryness at her throat. She clearly didn’t hydrate herself sufficiently post-work out.
“Hi,” she backs herself up against the wall at Catra’s side, mimicking her pose, and taking a swig of water in a casual attempt to pass of as someone who hasn’t just been thinking about starting any difficult conversations. “Did you, um, want to work out?”
“I was looking for a relatively quiet place to read through Glimmer’s chaos of a folder, but I can now safely confirm that every last cabin on this ship sounds like an inside of a washing machine.” She slides past Adora and down onto a bench gracefully.
“Sorry,” Adora chuckles, perching herself on the edge of the seat next to her. “Glimmer mentioned that Prime’s ship was a little quieter.”
“Yeah, but it had those offensively green lights everywhere and creepy clones roaming every corner, so it’s like, pick your poison,” Catra winks at her, and Adora’s stomach unwillingly does a little somersault. “Oh, by the way…” Catra lifts up the bag in front of her face and gives it a little shake. “Did you know we had corn chips in the pantry? I was gonna eat at least ten pounds of them, but I suppose I can settle for five, if you’re hungry.”
She places the bag between them and helps herself to a chip.
Adora follows suit. “Didn’t Bow say Glimmer is about to make dinner for us again?” she asks through a bite.
“Exactly, why do you think I want to fill up before then?”
“Aw, come on. Was it that bad?”
“To let you in on a secret,” Catra leans in conspiratorially. “I kind like Sparkles’ cooking. But publicly, I need to act like it’s gross.”
“Why?”
“It’s right there in terms and conditions of our relationship, just like her calling me ‘Horde Scum’ or ‘Brat Cat’.”
Adora snorts into her chips, trying to shake off the tiniest sting of weird jealousy that always tends to show up whenever Catra’s friendship with Glimmer is mentioned.
Especially when she calls it a ‘relationship’, like they’re dating, or something. Of course they’re not, but, still.
To avoid overthinking this, Adora focuses on taking a huge gulp of water, washing the chips down.
“You look hot,” Catra mentions.
Adora coughs violently, causing water to spill down her chin indignantly and drip down her shirt.
“Easy there,” Catra laughs, patting her back. “Thirsty much?”
“Wh-aa?” Adora manages, as the treacherous drink makes its way up her nose too.
“You look like 10% human and 90% sweat. How long have you been working out for?”
Oh.
Yeah, of course that’s what she meant.
Despite being quite sure there is some water dripping from her right nostril now, Adora manages to keep a steady face. “Like, uh, an hour maybe?”
Catra studies her with an intense expression, but mercifully ignores all the spit-up happening at the top, her gaze sliding down her arm instead. She quickly grabs Adora’s hand into her palms.
“Mhm,” she says, rubbing a soft thumb over her knuckles.
“Well, I was a little intense about it,” Adora says defensively.
“A little? Adora, what did that poor punchbag do to you?”
“May have said a few choice words about my birthmother.”
Catra laughs, soft and genuine and Adora feels like she just scored an A on a test. She has no idea how she managed to survive three years without hearing this laugh.
“Alright, Princess,” Catra leans back, lightly kicking at her knee. “What’s bothering you?”
“What do you mean?” Adora asks, heart skipping at being addressed by Catra like that.
Catra tilts her head to look at her. “Remember when you got caught slipping notes in class and teacher Fartface yelled at you? You forced yourself to run so many laps that day, you threw up on Kyle’s shoes,” she says, arms crossed. “You always loved tiring your stress out.”
“Oh man, I forgot about that,” Adora sighs with a wistful smile. “You remember what was her real name?”
“No, nobody does. I gave her that nickname, it stuck, and that was just one of the things she hated me for,” Catra says, chewing thoughtfully. “And stop deflecting!”
“Am not!”
“Spill it, then,” There is a sparkle in Catra’s eyes, as she clearly attempts to keep her expression steady, until her face slowly splits in a shit-eating grin. “You’re clearly good at it.”
Adora pulls a face. “And you’ve done so well not mentioning it.”
“You know me, always waiting for a perfect moment to strike,” Catra leans back and stretches her arms behind her head. Her bare foot nudges against Adora’s knee again. “So?”
It’s hard to imagine Catra giving her a better opening for The Conversation. Problem is, Adora’s head appears to have gone blanked out completely, and she can’t recall a single talking point that she’s mulled so much over. She nearly decides to dismiss Catra’s concerns, before remembering how the main problem listed on her agenda was not talking about their problems.
What was that about not making the same mistake again?
“It’s just, uh.” She swallows nervously, folding hands on her lap in a comforting gesture. “I’ve been thinking recently about how we were back in the Horde.”
“Yeah, we’ve been reminiscing about it every day since I boarded this ship. Tough not to think about it.” Catra grins at her.
Adora forces a smile back, feeling a little tightness in her chest.
She’s been deliberately avoiding asking the questions weighting on her mind since they started talking again, but it’s difficult to point out why. The first theory is that Catra is finally smiling again, safe and content. Adora can wrap her in her arms and Catra actually embraces her back. She’s purring, for crying out loud, and how can Adora bring herself to drop these bombs on her and ruin that?
But Catra deserves to know.
The second theory is that Adora is, maybe ever so slightly, afraid of what the answers to those questions might be.
But going through this is the only way they can have a connection that is real, and Catra deserves that too.
So Adora inhales sharply, squeezes her fists one more time, and says: “It’s just that… And don’t take this the wrong way, cause I’m like, so happy that you’re here, of course…” She slants a look at Catra, attempting to decipher the tiny change in her expression already. “But we were so close then. We were best friends, we used to do everything together and, now we’re back and most of the time it’s like nothing changed.”
Catra’s face remains impartial, save for the little tightness of her lips. So Adora pushes on: “I suppose that I’m… worried a little, maybe. Because I thought things were so good between us and then…” she gestures widely around them. “…all of this happened. And I don’t understand how, and if I don’t understand how, then who’s to say it won’t happen again?”
There’s a heavy pause, Catra’s expression still, save for a tiny twitch in the vicinity of her jaw. She clears her throat eventually. “I’m done hurting you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
She turns her face away from Adora, as if something particularly captivating was suddenly happening over by the partially deconstructed treadmill, but there’s a stiffness to her shoulders that wasn’t there just a few moments prior.
Oh no no no no NO.
Adora springs up to her feet to catch Catra’s wrist in her palms. “Catra, no. That’s not what I meant!” she says desperately, stumbling over her own tongue. “I’m not afraid of you hurting me, I’m afraid of me hurting you!”
Catra gives her a very puzzled look, but she doesn’t pull away. Something at the back of Adora’s brain takes notice of how endearing her scrunched-up freckled nose looks like and – holy crap, focus, Adora.
“Look, I thought everything was good between us at the time!” She says on an exhale. “But then all those things you told me at the Crystal Castle…”
“Adora…”
“And the thing is, you were right! I was being an inconsiderate asshole and I had no idea! I spent so long thinking over it all, how you said you were better off without me in the Horde…”
There’s a sharp pull as Catra finally rips her hand out of Adora’s clutches. For a moment, she thinks Catra’s about to make run for it, but instead she reaches out to pull her closer, squishing Adora’s face in her hand.
“I only said that because I wanted to hurt you, dummy,” she says, face mere inches away and Adora’s eyes dare to dart to her lips for a brief moment. “I wasn’t better off without you in the Horde. I fucking hated the Horde.”
She lets Adora’s face go, swings her tail once, and slumps back down on the bench with a sigh, suddenly looking extraordinarily tired.
Adora stands still, dumbfounded, sweat and spit slowly trickling down her torso.
It just… doesn’t make any sense.
Sure, Catra had every right to hate the Horde, given how much hurt it caused her. Adora can hardly stand thinking back on all the times she found her best friend curled up in a dark corner with a tear-stained face, refusing to tell her what happened this time. She vividly remembers the two of them lying together in Adora’s bed, cuddled together for warmth, whispering the dumbest things trying to make each other laugh… Then Catra’s voice subtly changing when she asks about the two of them leaving the Horde. It was… nervous. Hopeful. A little bit heartbroken. And Adora shut her down, because at the time she honestly couldn’t even imagine the possibility of a life outside the Fright Zone for them. Beyond the cold green metallic walls of their home was nothing but toxic forests and violent princesses, is what they were taught and what Adora believed with her whole heart.
Fuck, she was an idiot, alright.
Except, why wouldn’t Catra jump at the first opportunity to leave? Once Adora saw through and decided to go, why did Catra suddenly change her mind and become so adamant about staying?
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Adora realizes that Catra has always been just a little bit of a riddle to her. Uncovering this mystery feels almost like something too terrifying to do, but if this can help them reforge their friendship, make it stronger and more real than ever, then Adora decides she must brave through.
Now, she may be a moron with emotional intelligence of a stale donut, but Adora is no coward.
“So why did you stay?” she pushes on.
“To spite you,” Catra tells her with a serene smile on her face. “Um. I mean, not really. But the real reason was equally dumb,” she feebly attempts to laugh it off.
“I’m sure it was not,” Adora states with confidence.
“It’s just. Difficult to explain,” Catra sighs, before getting up to pace around the room a little, tail anxiously swinging behind. “I think I just had… A wrong mindset. No, wrong expectations. Ugh, no, this doesn’t make sense.”
She wipes her forehead with the heel of her palm, frustrated. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like I’m trying to blame you,” she says eventually, cheeks just a little bit of a pinker shade. It compliments her freckles ideally, and Adora has a hard time keeping this observation from distracting her. What the hell is it with her and this freckle obsession?
Instead, she forces herself to stay on topic. “Oh, it’s not a problem. I mean, I’m sure I had some part to play in this, so…”
“Yeah, you see, it wasn’t your fault, though!” Catra huffs out. She takes a shaky breath. “It’s like… Most of my life, I wanted to get as far away from the Fright Zone as possible and never look back. But even more than that, I wanted to b-be with you. Around you, I mean.” She quickly adds, then chews on her lower lip for a moment. “And I thought you’d never ditch the Horde, I mean, it was your dream to be the best Force Captain the world has ever seen, right?”
There is something heart-wrenchingly sad in her voice, that makes Adora want to either roll her friend up in a blanket and keep safe forever, or, alternatively, throw herself out the ship out of guilt. Either would be fine.
“Uh,” she attempts instead. “At the time, I suppose? You know, honestly, I wasn’t even considering other possibilities,” nervous laughter escapes her throat.
“Well, yeah. I have. As soon as we grew out of pretend play and I couldn’t bully you into letting me be the Brave Force Captain anymore, I started exploring other options,” Catra half-smiles, baring a pointy fang. “But again, I knew your entire life revolved around this… dream. And my entire life revolved ar-… I mean, I just knew I’d chose you over my dream any day.”
Once she’s done talking, the room feels incredibly silent. Even the white noise of the engines seems to have quieted down. Catra remains perfectly still, save for her tail, swishing around, as if it has a life and will of its own, completely detached from its owner.
“And… Then I left,” Adora finally says, feeling her throat painfully tighten up. “I didn’t know… I mean, I suspected some of it, but I had no idea…”
“No, stop this,” Catra jolts up and puts both hands up in front of her. “I already told you, it wasn’t your fault.”
“I honestly didn’t think of it like this, it’s just that I couldn’t stay once I knew about all the Horde was doing…” Adora can’t seem to stop blabbering.
“Yeah, well, exactly, you didn’t think of it like this,” Catra crosses arms around herself in what’s always been a sure defensive strategy of hers. “I acted like you hurt me deliberately, but I knew that you didn’t, Adora. I just… wasn’t the one you were thinking of at the time,” she slowly resumes her pacing, gaze tracing the blue lights illuminating the floor. “It was a bit of a wake up call for me, when it fully sank in that you didn’t think of me the same way I thought of you. In my head, I build this whole future with you, even though I knew it wasn’t what you wanted, and then got pissed at you when you didn’t want it. I blamed you for the longest time, and tried to get back at you by all means possible… It was dumb, and I shouldn’t have done that.”
She gives her a sad smile. Adora doesn’t move, feet rooted to the floor, and she swears she feels her heart break a little.
“I don’t…” she stammers hoarsely, before clearing her throat. Wrapping Catra in a blanket seems more enticing by the second, but she knows this has to wait. They already got this far. “I mean, okay, so, this certainly cleared some things up for me.” She says, crossing arms on her chest. “But also, for someone as deviously clever as you, that was some major dumbassery.”
“Yeah, I know, I said-“
“…because I totally wanted a future with you,” she stands back up with firmness.
It should be Catra’s turn to look at Adora with a dumbfounded look to equal hers, but instead, her brows frowned incredulously. Few beats pass before she lets a heavy sigh out of her chest.
“Adora, you seriously don’t need to…”
“No, I’m not just saying that! Okay, look, I know I was a major dick just leaving like that, and not letting you know how much you meant to me… Maybe I didn’t even realize it myself at the time. Until I left and started missing you so, so terribly, you have no idea…”
“Oh, I think I do,” Catra monotones, gaze fixed on a spot on her lap.
“Thing is, I took you for granted, Catra,” Adora goes on, voice strained. “And I really didn’t notice this until you were gone.”
“You don’t need to do this, Adora,” Catra repeats, before sighing again. “I told you, it’s fine. I let my expectations take the better of me, and you don’t need to act like in retrospect it somehow made any sense.”
“Hang on,” Adora pumps her open palms down as if to settle down the air around them. “You… don’t believe that I missed you?”
“Well, I mean, sure, maybe you did, but it’s not like you couldn’t function without me or whatever…”
This stings far more than it should. Adora had a strong suspicion that Catra might not be fully aware just how important she is to her, but holy shit. And the fact that she clearly isn’t trying to spite her now made it all the worse.
No fucking blankets. Not before Catra wakes the hell up and knows.
“Catra… Fuck, you seriously have no idea…” Now Adora starts pacing, wiping her face in frustration.” How I couldn’t sleep… How completely lost I felt the entire time, just waiting for you to join me at some point… Like there was a, a freaking hole cut out of me… Ugh,” She stops short, then grabs Catra’s wrist again, angrily. “Come on, I have to show you something.”
She pulls Catra by the hand towards the exit, and they hustle together through the maze of the ship’s corridors. As Adora glances back, she is pleased to finally catch a glimpse of surprise on her best friends face.
“Where’re you taking me, Princess?” Catra huffs, as they turn left and duck into the pantry.
“The bunkroom,” Adora says over her shoulder.
“Woah, buy me a—”
“Yes, I will buy you a dinner first!” Adora says, feeling warmth creeping up the back of her neck. She gives Catra’s arm another pull as they sprint past the engines. One more turn and they’re in the sleeping cabins area. She leads into the largest bunkroom, previously shared between her and Bow, shutting the door behind them.
Adora hasn’t been back at this cabin in days, mostly having ditched it to spiral in her insomnia by the control panels, and later sleep by Catra’s side. But her bag of necessities is still there, shoved between the bedframe and a small cabinet. She kneels beside to pull it out and rummages through, pulling out a rumpled mass of hastily packed clothes.
“You sure have a lot of white turtlenecks,” Catra points out beside her.
“Oh, shut your mouth… There it is!” Adora pulls out a pink faux-fur notebook and hands it over.
“Uh,” Catra says, examining the notebook in her hands. A tuft of pink fur sticks to her fingers. “What is this?”
“This is… Oh, just open it!” Adora huffs. Catra rolls her eyes in what is likely a reflexive response at being told to do anything, but opens the book anyway.
“’Pillows you can drown in,’” She begins reading aloud. “’Flowers. Candles that smell like flowers. PARTIES.’ Underscored three times… ‘Food: cake, strawberries, chocolate, milkshake, potatoes in various forms (cont. p. 38). Glitter EVERYWHERE’… Adora,” Catra lifts her gaze, her eyebrows knitting together. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the actual fuck am I reading?”
“Well, it’s a… Um…” Adora stammers. “Okay, it’s proof that I… Like, this is kind of weird, and a little, stupid, I suppose? Which I’m realizing now. Alright, maybe you actually don’t need to see this, come to think of—”
But Catra already springs to her feet and yanks the notebook out of Adora’s reach.
“The pages are numbered… And there’s dates too… Is this your diary? A lengthy shopping list?” she asks.
“Not… exactly,” Adora coughs, feeling her face heat up. “You see, when I first joined the rebellion… Everything was so new and weird and confusing. Bow and Glimmer were nice to me, but everyone else still looked at me like I ate their cakes and kicked their puppies. And I kept wishing you were there with me so badly, so I just—” she rubs the back of her neck. “I promised myself that I’d convince you to join me, somehow. At the time, it was the only thought that kept me steady.”
Adora exhales, keeping her eyes on the clasp of her bag. There’s a soft sound, as Catra sits back crossed-legged at her side.
“So then, every time I tried something new, or noticed anything I’d want to tell you about, I wrote it down in this notebook Glimmer gave me,” Adora carries on. “It’s like… a list of everything I wanted to show you, all the things I’d want you to try out, a bunch of inside jokes, or just, random ideas I had over time. So that I wouldn’t forget anything.”
She shrugs, attempting to come off as casual as humanely possible, though she feels anything but. Catra’s gaze darts from the notebook back to her face several times.
“So this is some kind of a… hm…”
“Catra book!” Adora provides. “I mean, that’s how I called it in my head. You’re the first person I told about this, Bow and Glimmer thought I was trying to make a scrapbook or something. I would have told them, but… You know… They were a little prejudiced against Horde Soldiers. Never really understood why I’d want anything to do with any of them. Especially Glimmer, she was always like ‘can’t believe you were ever friends with that Horde Scum’…”
She freezes, but the corner of Catra’s mouth turns into a little smug smile.
“Relax, she’s called me far worse,” she says, returning to flicking through the pages. “Woah, there’s like, a solid hundred pages of this!”
“Including a thorough list of every pie I have tasted, along with the ratings,” Adora supplies, pleased with herself.
“…aaand three pages on horses, alright. Do I even want to know what does ’Rogelio boulder’ mean?”
“Oh, yeah!” Adora claps her hands excitedly. “You’re gonna love this! See, one day Frosta took Bow, Glimmer and me ice skating, but none of us had ever been before, you put on these… Blade boots on and just slide across the frozen lake, it’s really dangerous, but so fun, you’d love it!”
She gesticulates wildly, trying to illustrate the process, as Catra watches her with a polite smile. “And then, having landed on my ass about fifty times, trousers all wet, bruised like a banana… I saw it. Just by the pier, there was this boulder. And it looked like Rogelio.”
She finishes off her story with an incredulous headshake.
Catra blinks at her a few times. “Wait… That’s it?”
“Yeah, I mean! Okay, maybe it doesn’t sound so exciting, but you should have seen it, it looked just like him! And I was laughing so hard, but nobody got it, and, ugh, it was awful!” Adora whines.
“You have been through unimaginable hardships, Adora,” Catra deadpans, staring deep into her eyes and grabbing her shoulder tightly. “But they’ve made you nothing but stronger.”
“Oh, shut up!” Adora throws her head back in laughter, Catra immediately joining her. And there it is again, the warmth spilling around her stomach, which only intensifies as Catra leans back into her and nestles her head on the crook of her neck. Adora nearly leans into it, but stops to turn around and reach over the bed. “Hang on a second…” She swoops out a blanket and wraps it over Catra’s shoulders, ignoring her confused expression. “Okay, it’s good now. Go on.”
“’Moth princess’?” Catra asks, giggly, flipping the page.
“We were pulling an all-nighter over the Rebellion plans. And then a moth flew in and we found it so funny for some reason. I… suppose you’d have to be there.”
“No, sounds hilarious. Did you have Frosta illustrate this for you?” she points at the little squiggly drawing of a moth.
“Um, no, I drew that?”
“Oh. Looks… groovy.”
“You’re the worst!” Adora cackles again, pulling in Catra closer. It feels like her heart is bouncing around her insides at this point. This has to be some medical condition, right? Maybe she should turn into She-ra and heal herself before she explodes?
And Catra just settles herself more comfortably, crooking an elbow over Adora’s knee.
“Okay, what about ’fishbowl wife meeting’?” she asks, glancing back over the shoulder.
“Huh,” Adora leans over. “I think it may have been… I was half-asleep and thought I had an awesome idea, so I got up quickly to write it down, but couldn’t remember what the hell any of this means come morning.”
The tip of her nose brushes against Catra’s hair, the short dark tufts sticking out in every possible direction. Without thinking much of it, Adora leans in ever so slightly and inconspicuously breathes in.
Eventually, Catra stumbles onto the blank pages at the end.
“It stops here?” she asks. “What happened, did Etheria run out of interestingly shaped boulders?”
Adora bites down on her lower lip. “Ah, um. No, that was…”
“Oh,” Catra says, noticing the date. It’s impossible to see her face at this angle, but Adora pictures her mouth pinching in the corner, brows furrowing together. A beat passes between them.
“Fair enough,” Catra cuts through the silence eventually, voice steady. “If I were to choose, I guess right after the whole portal deal was the perfect time to give up on me.”
The warm bubble in Adora’s chest turns into a burst of frustrations. She grabs Catra’s shoulders and leans back to look into her face.
“If I had given up on you, I would have thrown this notebook away,” she states. “It just… You said you were never going to go with me. So writing all these things down made me sad. But I still… didn’t want to leave it behind, just in case.”
Catra’s face reveals no emotion, one way or the other. She slowly slowly turns back to the notebook, running fingers through the fur on its cover.
“Well, it was a good call,” she says eventually. “Who knows when there’s an emergency and you might need a ranked list of your favourite things about horses.”
Adora smiles at her. “Happens more often than you’d think.”
Just then, it fully hit her how she’s still holding Catra’s shoulders and their faces are still incredibly close together. She can see every palest freckles on Catra’s nose.
She can’t move, can’t breathe, frozen in place, feeling Catra so incredibly close. Her eyes slide down onto Catra’s lips, noticing a slight pout they’re in. What would it feel like to brush her own lips over them? The bubbling warmth in her chest evolves into a full-on feverish sensation that spills all over her insides. But she doesn’t move away.
Right up until Catra does.
Her ears twitch at the sudden movement outside the door and she jumps away a split second before Bow enters the room.
“Oh,” he says. “Didn’t know you guys were hanging out here.”
“Yeah, well, we are!” Adora gets up immediately, her voice unnaturally high. “We were just… reading this book together, no big deal…”
She kicks the notebook under the bed in what she hopes is a very smooth and stealthy movement.
“Cool!” Bow says, reaching over Catra’s head to drag his bag out. “I was just about to call you for dinner. Glimmer seems to be expanding her cooking repertoire. I saw her battling some of the cans we found in the pantry earlier. I think she’s trying to make stew.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Catra says, staring off into space.
“We’ll be right there!” Adora calls far too cheerfully for someone who was just told they’ll be having questionable stew for dinner.
But if Bow notices anything out of the ordinary, he doesn’t let know. “Great, I’ll see you there,” he says, tossing the bad over his shoulder. He gives them a final smile before leaving. “Oh, Adora? You got some water spilled on your shirt, you know that?”
The door slams shut behind him. Whatever spell happened between them less than a minute ago, is far gone.
“We’d better get going,” Catra says, collecting herself off the floor, Adora’s blanket sliding off her shoulders. “That way we’ll be able to say the food was hot, at least.”
She reaches a hand out, helping Adora get up.
Adora’s just a little bit disappointed to let go of it.
She should be satisfied, right? They got through the hard part. They had The Conversation and it went pretty well. So why was there still so much restlessness left in her chest?
Adora finds, as she follows Catra back to the cockpit, she feels more uncertain than ever.