talia [catradora]

part four

when you left

catra crashed into the closet door, her fingers searching for the truth - that adora wasn't really gone, that she was right outside the door with her short laugh and her intoxicating smell and her piles of sweatshirts and jerseys and stories she told catra in the middle of the night, keeping catra from losing her goddamn mind.

she was gone.

catra screamed, letting the raw sound escape her lips for the first time since she kissed adora, that night adora asked her to dance and catra accepted.

she pounded at the floor, her nails scratching the wood and her face red.

"adora," she whispered, her fingers finding photograph upon photograph and tears streaking down her cheeks.