Hello? Goodbye. (A Catradora fic)

Remember, Forget

By the time the moon had fully risen, Adora was completely wasted. Catra was too, but her lack of sobriety was far more subtle then Adora's.

The blonde tumbled along the road, hands in Catra's hair.

" Catra, do you love me?" 

Catra sighed. "Will you remember if I say yes?" 

Adora nodded like an excited toddler.

"Well then, I don't. Your laugh is annoying and I never liked your hair poof." Catra snarled. 

Adora went quiet.

" Pompadour."

"What?"

"It's not a hair poof, its a POMPADOUR !"

Catra burst into laughter.

"Of course you would know that."

Adora pouted. "You're not very nice."

Catra kissed Adora's forehead. "How can I make it up to you?"

Adora pointed to something in the distance.

"A tattoo shop? You gotta be kidding me."

"Nope! I can get a tattoo on your face on MY FACE!"

Adora burst into a fit of drunken giggles. She always snorted when she laughed, and made no effort to conceal it.

"You're so cute when you're drunk." Catra dragged them both inside the parlor. 

It was dimly lit, smelled like mold and motorcycle oil. A middle age woman with a muscular figure stood cleaning a needle.

"What do you want?"

"A tattoo please!" Adora jumped up and down. 

The woman raised an eye at Catra. "Ain't you a bit young for ink?"

At first, Catra was intimidated, but she crossed her arms.

"Look, if you have a problem, you should take up with Seahawk. He owes me for saving his kid." Catra huffed.

The woman's stern look softened. "That family's a good bunch, what happened?"

Catra leaned against the doorway. "Salior nearly got run over by some lunatic on Anchor Street. I got him out just as it was about to hit him."

The woman set down her equipment. "Well,a deal's a deal. You saved the kid, ill give you anything you want. As long as Blondie here can handle herself." 

Catra held Adora still. "Let's do this."

Catra barely flinched as the needle hit her shoulder. As the tattoo was filled in, pierced over again, and all she could feel was the slap of Shadow Weavers ugly, rough hands. Catra tensed, not out of pain, but out of fear. The alcohol wasn't helping.

Adora sung a tune at random. Off key and bizzare, jumping from Britney Spears to Fall out boy and a million other tunes Catra couldn't remember. She sat up as the woman, named Huntara, bandaged her up.

Adora cried getting her tattoo. She hadn't grown the tolerance for pain that Catra had. Huntara tried to ease the situation by recounting her motorcycle days, but her stories were more nerve-racking  than inspiring.

Adora sat up as Catra put on the bandage. She let Huntara lecture her about after care instructions before leaving.

Adora had a  sun on her left shoulder and Catra had a crescent moon on her's. The two were as different as night and day.

Catra slid behind a recycling bin, and laid down. She held Adora next to her as they slept under the stars.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------