To The Stars and Back

Episode 3

The morning light filtered softly through the sheer curtains, bathing the small bathroom in a muted glow. Catra stood in front of the mirror, a fierce intensity etched across her face reflected in the foggy glass. She was methodically brushing her teeth, her movements robotic and precise, her left hand firmly gripping the edge of the porcelain sink. Drops of water from the recently used faucet spotted the otherwise pristine surface, hinting at the beginning of another routine day. Clad in just a sports bra and a towel wrapped securely around her waist, she seemed ready to conquer the usual, save for the distant look in her eyes that suggested her mind was elsewhere.

With the taste of mint fresh in her mouth, she rinsed and spit, setting her toothbrush aside with a deliberate care. She then turned and strode towards the closet with a purposeful air. Opening it revealed an array of clothes neatly arranged by type and color, the product of a disciplined mind seeking order in even the smallest of things. She reached for a comfortable shirt, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion, the fabric falling just right against her athletic frame.

Fully dressed now, she made her way to the entranceway, grabbing a pair of sneakers. She slipped one foot in, then the other, leaning against the wall for balance as she tied them securely. Everything about her morning ritual was efficient and practiced, leaving no room for error—or so she had thought until she opened the door to leave.

Pausing in the threshold, her gaze fell upon an unexpected sight. Right there on the ground in front of her apartment was a plate full of cookies, a surprising anomaly in the otherwise sterile hallway of her apartment building. Attached to it was a small note, the handwriting familiar and the message simple yet loaded with an unspoken apology. Catra's eyes briefly traced the contours of the cute drawing beneath the text, her expression unreadable.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as she picked up the plate, the cookies meticulously arranged in a tempting display of sweetness and regret. The note, signed 'Sorry about last night! - Adora Gray', did little to soften the hard line of Catra's lips. She stared at it, emotions brewing just beneath the surface, the simplicity of the apology insufficient to mend the complexity of last night's event.

With a decision that seemed both impulsive and inevitable, Catra walked to her kitchen trash can, her movements suddenly sharp and decisive. She tilted the plate, and the cookies—each a small, crafted piece of atonement—tumbled into oblivion, followed by the note. She felt a pang, a mix of irritation and something akin to sorrow, as the lid closed with a finality that echoed slightly in the quiet of her apartment.

Exiting her apartment again, Catra placed the now empty plate neatly in front of Adora's door—a silent but potent message of her current feelings. Her hand was in her pocket, fingers curling into a fist around nothing, as she turned away. The stairs echoed under her swift, determined steps, each one taking her further away from the door and the discarded apologies that lay behind it.

As the morning sun climbed higher, casting long shadows down the corridor, Catra left the building, her thoughts as tumultuous as the morning was calm.