The Aftershock (of your touch)

I. I see you in the hallways sometimes

It had all started with a knock.

Catra had moved into her new apartment in Upper Bright Moon, thanks to the hefty promotion she'd gotten at her job. She had only been there a week, so the apartment was still bare, begging to be furnished. She hadn't really had the time and wasn't exactly bothered about the lack of furniture. It was a nice place: two rooms, the second feeling slightly unneeded; a spacious living room; a pristine kitchen and bathroom. The apartment complex itself was also quite luxurious—unlike her old place, the lift actually worked and the sports court behind it wasn't littered with cigarettes and cans of beer.

This new place was definitely an improvement.

One thing Catra didn't like about this new apartment was the people. They were all so... friendly—something she'd grown used to not seeing—and it instantly rose red flags in her mind. Her therapist told her that was normal for someone like her, but that she should try to not instantly react with hostility or skepticism towards benevolence. She didn't think there was any chance of that happening.

Even after a week of settling in it was hard to swap pleasantries and accept the smiles—it was even harder to smile back at these strangers who just so happened to live in the same building as her.

Well, Catra supposed that wasn't completely true.

Door number 19. Over the past week her face kept popping up in the hallways, in the street, and even at the supermarket. Catra didn't know why. Part of her thought she was imagining it when she saw this beautiful blue-eyed, blonde haired girl staring at her in curiosity. She would always look down as if embarrassed and move on, but not before offering her an awkward yet charming smile. That kind of thing usually deterred Catra. The staring. It happened to her so often, yet she could never get used to being caught in someone's crosshairs of confusion. How rare were magicat these days? She was unsure of the answer—it wasn't like her parents had been around to tell her.

However, with this girl, Catra couldn't bring herself to feel her usual displeasure at the gesture. Her curiosity somehow seemed innocent—harmless. Catra had been equally as perplexed when first catching eyes with her, but she was sure they were for different reasons. The stranger made her feel...nostalgic somehow. She seemed familiar, but that was the first time Catra had ever seen her, she was certain of it—so surely that couldn't be right? After going over the interactions late at night, Catra settled on the fact that it was just a bad case of deja vu. Even after that, it was impossible to shake off the odd weight her stare carried. It was as if she had been pinned to the ground. Whatever this feeling was, it couldn't be good—she couldn't be good. Catra trusted that her intuition was correct, and stayed as far away as she could.

She managed to make that work for a couple of days, but that didn't last long. Despite trying to lay low, Catra still saw her everywhere, and every time she did, the blonde would acknowledge her with a small smile once again. It was harmless really, but that didn't stop Catra's mind from setting off the alarm bells. Oddly enough, Catra still didn't mind bumping into the girl: she didn't mind seeing her when she was leaving for work, or seeing her in the supermarket on a Sunday morning, or receiving a dorky smile that made her lip twitch and tail sway.

That was a part of the problem.

Catra had been learning that it wasn't a bad thing to be vulnerable, to meet new people, and that not everyone was out to hurt her no matter what thoughts her brain may feed her. Rationally, she knew it wasn't a problem that she had some newfound interest in the girl at door number 19. The irrational (or perhaps realistic) part of Catra knew that there was no way she would ever approach that girl. All it would ever be was a sparse smile here and there. The crushing weight of her stare a safe distance away. That would be fine.

At least until there was a knock one Saturday morning.

"Scorpia, I said 8pm not AM!" Catra groaned as she stumbled out of bed to open the door. Why did Scorpia constantly misread Catra's messages? Was her phone that small? Or was she just so excited to see the apartment that she—?

Catra had quickly realised that it was not Scorpia at her door. It was her. Door number 19, in all her glory: her hair was pulled up in her usual ponytail with a few strands framing her face, her ocean blue eyes piercing Catra's mismatched ones, and her cheeks red like she'd just been on a run (if the athletic attire and water bottle in her hand were anything to go by, then she had). The same unsettling, phantom weight seemed to return. Catra briefly thought that maybe it wouldn't be too bad to be crushed by it.

Catra stood there in nothing but a bra and boxer shorts, completely lost on what to say to the stranger at her door, who somehow seemed to be more embarrassed than her. After a few agonising seconds, Catra cleared her act up and spoke.

"Sorry, I, uh, thought you were someone else."

The girl was just as slow to answer, nodding hastily after a long pause.

"Yeah, no, no problem! I'm so sorry for intruding, I know it's kind of early but— " she looked down at her shoe. "Well, so, I... I know you just moved here not too long ago, and I dunno, we've seen each other around a lot, so I thought that maybe it'd be good to, y'know, introduce myself, since we're kind of neighbours and all."

This time it was Catra's turn to nod slowly. "Right..." Surely she didn't just come to introduce herself—for them to acknowledge each other further than they already did—who does that?

For a second, the girl seemed slightly dejected by Catra's lackluster reply (in her defense, it was eight in the morning), but when Catra stepped forward and stuck her hand out, she seemed to brighten once more. Catra had to admit, it was quite endearing.

"Nice to officially meet you, the name's Catra," she said with a smirk, eyes trained on the girl. Her smile seemed to grow as she shook her hand. It was a brief handshake, but somehow it caused what felt like a surge of electricity up her arm. A spark.

"Catra...it's a nice name."

Catra shrugged in response. "Personally, I think it's a little on the nose." She hadn't meant for it to be a joke (because naming a magicat Catra? That should not be allowed!), but her neighbour had laughed anyway, and the sound bounced around the empty hallway.

The girl covered her mouth then, clearly embarrassed at having reacted so strongly, but in Catra's mind it made her even more adorable. The girl was looking at the ground again as her fingers absentmindedly (or maybe anxiously?) tapped at the bottle she was gripping.

"I better be heading off now." she said, and Catra felt oddly disappointed at that, but she let out a small noise in acknowledgement. But before the blonde could fully turn to walk away, she stopped, facing Catra again. "Actually, would you—do you wanna get coffee sometime? Like, maybe tomorrow? I could tell you a few things the landlord doesn't like to mention to newcomers."

That odd disappointment was now an even odder, eager anticipation.

"Yeah, sure, I'm free tomorrow afternoon." Catra said, possibly a little too quickly.

"Great! I'll come knock at 1 then, if that's okay with you?" The girl asked.

Catra nodded. "That's cool. And hopefully, I'll have more clothes on." she grinned.

The girl seemed to have forgotten until Catra mentioned it, but when she did, she let out a short laugh and blushed (Catra supposed her cheeks could still have been red from her run, but she liked to think otherwise).

The two bid each other a final goodbye, and once Catra shut her door, she finally gave her brain time to process what had just happened. Door number 19—the girl that Catra was so sure she'd stay away from and admire at a distance, and not ever converse with (or even more dangerously so get close to), had just asked her out to go for coffee. And she had said yes.

Catra felt light and heavy simultaneously.

But, most importantly, Catra had missed a crucial detail—she hadn't asked for her name.