The Bad Guy

Chapter 10

Scorpia's mind spun. Forming coherent thought was next to impossible with Catra's perfect body pressed against hers. Catra, rolling her hips to create tantalizing friction, rising on her knees and tipping Scorpia's chin up with sharp nails under her jaw so that her chest hovered only a breath from Scorpia's lips. The strength it was taking to sit still, to not lean in and press greedy kisses into the delicate ridge of her collar bone, was nothing short of heroic.

"Well?" Catra raked her fingers behind Scorpia's head and across her scalp, making her shudder at the sensation. "What are you waiting for? I'm not going to stop you."

That voice. Those eyes. Her touch.

It was almost enough to send Scorpia reeling.

Because Catra was right: she did want this. It would be so easy to overpower her – to throw her down onto the mattress, to make short work of what remained of Catra's clothes, and have her way with her.

How many times had she dreamed of this? How many times had she imagined pinning Catra down, working her over until she moaned her name with the same pleasure she had only ever reserved for Adora?

How badly did she want to show Catra that Adora wasn't the only woman who could make her feel good? That it was possible to feel the good parts without having to suffer the bad ones later.

How badly did Scorpia want to be the reason Catra never had to think about Adora–her lips, her hands, her tongue–ever again?

Yes, she wanted this. She wanted this so badly it hurt.

But not like this.

Catra's grip tightened. She moved in, lowering her face over Scorpia's until their lips were a mere whisper apart.

Not like this.

Scorpia sat up, pushing Catra away without letting her fall. The motion was more forceful than Scorpia intended. Surprised and jostled, Catra let out a gasp of pain and winced in a way that made Scorpia feel like dirt.

"What the hell, Scorpia?"

"I'm sorry, Catra, but I'm not going to do this."

"You're kidding, right? I know this is why you're so nice to me." She reached her fingers out and gripped the front of Scorpia's uniform. Her claws split the fabric like paper. "Just fucking do it already."

"I said no."

It was the first time Scorpia ever raised her voice at Catra – and it was one of the only times she had denied her anything, too. Eyes wide with incredulous disbelief, Catra sank back. The effect was instantly sobering.

"You don't... You don't want me?"

Catra's voice was so small, so defeated. Immediately she pulled away, trying to wrestle away from Scorpia for fear of revealing the true weight of her mortification.

With a sigh, Scorpia twisted to the side and laid Catra back on the bed. She pinned her in place, but not for the reason she wished.

"Listen to me, Catra," she said. "Look at me."

She patiently outlasted Catra's stubbornness, waiting until she turned those mismatched eyes back to her. They were glossy with tears and tinted with unmistakable shame.

"Of course I want you. I'm crazy about you. But not like this. If we – if this – is going to happen, I want it to be because we both want it for the same reason. Not because you're screwed up on pain meds, or sad because Adora broke your heart. And I definitely don't want to do this if all you're trying to do is punish yourself."

Scorpia pressed her lips into a tight line and waited for some sign that Catra understood. Beneath her, Catra gazed back without speaking. Her breath quickened, and again she strained against Scorpia's grip.

"Let go of me," she demanded. She sounded panicked. "Get off. Let me up!"

That was a command Scorpia could follow. She sat back and watched as Catra scrambled to the other side of the bed, where she sat with her back pressed to the wall, knees tucked up and tail coiled protectively around her ankles. In that moment, she looked like a child, scared and helpless. She dropped her head into her hands and started to cry.

Scorpia stayed where she was, resisting the urge to comfort her. She rose from the bed with a sigh and watched as Catra wept.

"I know you don't believe this," she said. "But you're not the bad guy you think you are. You deserve to be happy. If I'm lucky, I'll get to be part of making that happen. But even if I'm not–even if you don't choose me in the end–that doesn't change a thing."

Catra lifted her head. She wiped her tears but avoided looking at Scorpia, choosing instead to stare vacantly at her own knees.

"I'm tired," she whispered. "I think I'm going to go back to bed."

A fissure cracked its way across Scorpia's heart. It was enough to take her breath away.

"Sure thing, Wildcat." She turned away, flicked off the lamp, and stepped numbly to the door. "Anything you need."