Adora stood in the middle of the room, a broom in one hand and a cloth in the other. She had been trying to clean their shared quarters for the better part of an hour, but her progress was slow. She kept getting distracted by the little things that belonged to Catra— a half-eaten bag of chips, a tattered, old book with pages missing, and a pile of clothes strewn across the floor.
Catra was out, probably training or doing something equally intense. Adora had volunteered to tidy up, hoping it might help make their space feel a bit more like home. She moved to Catra's side of the room, where a small, old wooden box was sticking out from under the bed. She crouched down, tugging it free from its hiding place. It was battered, its edges worn down, and looked like something Catra had probably dragged with her from the Horde.
Curious, she lifted the lid, and inside, she found a bundle of papers—no, not papers. Letters. The handwriting was unmistakably Catra's: sharp, hurried strokes, words slanting to the right as if they were in a rush to escape the page.
Adora's breath caught in her throat as she picked up the first letter, its edges soft from being handled over and over. She knew she shouldn't read it—she could already feel the guilt creeping up her spine—but something in her couldn't resist. She unfolded it carefully and began to read.
---
**Dear Adora,**
I hate you. I hate you so much for leaving me, for making me feel like I was never good enough. I hate how you walked away and didn't even look back. I hope you're happy with your new friends, your new life. I hope you're as far away from me as you can get, so I don't have to see your stupid, beautiful face.
I miss you.
—C
---
Adora blinked, her heart pounding. The words were angry, almost venomous, but she could feel the pain underneath. She didn't know when this letter had been written, but she could guess—somewhere early in their separation when everything was still raw and bleeding.
She swallowed hard, her hands shaking as she reached for the next one.
---
**Adora,**
I saw you today. You didn't see me, but I saw you. You were fighting with that new sword of yours, swinging it around like you've been doing it your whole life. You looked...happy. And it made me furious. How can you look so happy when everything feels so wrong?
I wanted to hate you for it, but instead, I just felt this ache in my chest. I think I've forgotten how to breathe without you. I don't know what to do with myself anymore.
I miss you, and I hate that I miss you.
—C
---
Adora's eyes began to sting with unshed tears. She had never known Catra felt like this, not really. She had known there was anger, of course—how could she not? But this...this was something different. It was deeper, more fragile.
She shuffled through the letters, reading each one faster than the last, her heart breaking a little more with each one.
---
**Dear Adora,**
I heard from Scorpia that you helped save some village today. She thinks you're some sort of hero. I wanted to punch her for saying it, but I didn't. I wonder if you think about me at all when you're out there saving the world. I wonder if you miss me as much as I miss you.
I saw a flower today that looked like the ones you used to pick for me back in the Whispering Woods. I wanted to pick it, but I didn't. What would be the point?
I don't know why I'm writing this. You'll never read it. You'll never know how much I still think about you, about us. Maybe it's better that way.
—C
---
The letters continued like this, each one a small window into Catra's soul. Some were angry, others were heartbreakingly tender. Some were filled with confusion, others with desperate longing. Adora felt like she was intruding on something intensely private, but she couldn't stop. She kept reading, her hands trembling as she unfolded each new page.
Finally, she reached the last letter. This one was different. It was shorter, the handwriting shaky, as if Catra had been fighting against herself the entire time she was writing.
---
**Adora,**
If you ever read this, I want you to know I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. For every hurtful thing I said, for every time I pushed you away when all I wanted was to pull you closer. I didn't know how to love you then, not really. I was too scared.
But I think I know how to love you now. I think I'm ready to try, if you'll let me.
—C
---
Adora's hands were trembling so much she nearly dropped the letter. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she didn't bother to wipe them away. She had never felt so many emotions all at once—guilt, sorrow, and a fierce, overwhelming love for the woman who had written these words.
"What are you doing?"
Adora's head snapped up. Catra was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock and...fear? Her gaze darted from Adora to the letters in her hands, and in an instant, her expression hardened.
"Why are you going through my stuff?" Catra hissed, her voice tense.
Adora stood up slowly, still holding the last letter. "Catra, I—"
"Those are private!" Catra's voice broke, and for a moment, Adora saw the raw vulnerability in her eyes before it was masked by anger. "You had no right!"
"I know," Adora said, stepping forward cautiously. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I just... I found them, and I couldn't stop. I'm so sorry, Catra. I didn't know..."
"You didn't know what?" Catra snapped, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "You didn't know I was miserable? That I hated myself for pushing you away? That I..." She faltered, the words catching in her throat.
"That you loved me?" Adora finished softly, her own voice barely above a whisper.
Catra looked like she'd been struck. She swallowed hard, blinking back tears, and turned her head away. "I don't... I don't know how to do this, Adora. I don't know how to be... this."
Adora reached out, gently taking Catra's hand. "You don't have to be anything other than who you are, Catra. I love you... as you are."
For a moment, Catra didn't move. Then, slowly, she turned to face Adora, her eyes searching her face for something. "I'm scared," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm scared that if I try, I'll just mess it all up again."
Adora squeezed her hand tighter. "Maybe we'll mess up," she said softly. "But we'll figure it out together. We always do."
Catra stared at her, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Do you really mean that?" she asked, her voice small, almost childlike.
"I've never meant anything more," Adora whispered.
Catra let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against Adora's. "I still hate you sometimes," she muttered, but there was no heat in her words.
Adora chuckled softly, her heart swelling with love. "That's okay," she murmured. "I'll love you even when you hate me."
They stayed like that for a long moment, just breathing each other in, their hands entwined. And for the first time in a long while, they both felt like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
