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Summary
Home is wherever Adora is, whether it’s the Fright Zone, or an ancient space ship drifting through space, or a hideout deep in the Whispering Woods—it doesn’t matter where, or even when, as long as Adora’s there, that’s where Catra belongs.
It’s the steady beat of Adora’s heart, the warmth of her hand on the small of her back. It’s the light in her eyes when she looks at Catra, like she never stopped being hers even if Catra sometimes still feels like she’s long forfeited the right to have her—to love her—anymore.
Home is Adora’s body: every gash and bruise and broken bone they’ve ever shared.