The Aftershock (of your touch)

II. And your presense is alluring

Adora.

The day after their first proper encounter at the apartment, they had gone out for coffee as promised, and Catra had learned that her neighbour's name was Adora. She had laughed in disbelief when she heard this.

"You must be kidding." Adora (if that was really her name) shook her head in reply.

Surely that wasn't her real name? This girl didn't seem like one to lie over something trivial like that though, and Catra had to admit that it was very fitting. There was no denying the girl was adorable, and most likely adored by her peers.

The date—though Catra was hesitant to call it that—had gone surprisingly well. They'd laughed a lot; and they had talked about their hobbies, work, and Catra's new apartment.

"What brought you to Upper Bright Moon?" Adora asked.

Catra shifted in her seat a little, taking the last sip of her coffee. It would have been easy to lie, or omit the truth—Catra had survived for so long by doing exactly that. There was something about this girl across from her, though—something warm and compelling. She made her feel at ease, which was strange since she had only just met her. Ease wasn't something she was familiar with. Somehow Catra felt as if Adora would understand, or even empathise with her struggles despite the contrast between them being as stark as day and night.

"Well," she began, before she could regret it. "Back where I used to live... it wasn't great. It was actually pretty bad." She shut her eyes for a second. Was she really going to say all this to a virtual stranger? Catra opened her eyes to see Adora watching her intently—her lips upturned slightly, her face offering more encouragement than words ever could. Those bright blue eyes never left Catra's face, and they seemed to offer their comfort in saying: 'I'm listening, say as much or as little as you want.'

Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I'd been tryna find an out for a while, but work wasn't paying enough and I owed a lot of money so my savings wouldn't cut it. Then my friend, Scorpia, told me about this new job opening—a journalism gig—and I jumped on it. I got promoted a couple months later, so I thought, hey? Why not start over somewhere nice and prissy? And here I am now."

For a moment, Adora said nothing, only staring in wonder. It made Catra wrap her tail around her leg, anticipating the worst. Had she messed up somehow? What did she say wrong? Was it—?

"Wow, that's really amazing Catra. You really are something." She smiled. Catra's face felt hotter as she returned the smile.

It was then that Catra knew it'd be hard to continue life as usual with Adora around. As much as she'd wanted that coffee 'date' to be a one time thing, as much as she wanted to lay low and ignore the people around her—Adora and her ocean blue eyes and warm presence were impossible to ignore. Catra would be proven to be a fool if she tried.

Besides, her therapist had told her that giving into these things wasn't a bad thing. Despite the truth behind those words, she couldn't shake off her cynicism. That wasn't something she'd be able to change overnight.

That outing was the first of many over the coming weeks. Almost every weekend, Adora was suggesting a new place for them to go together, and Catra could do nothing but go along with it. The movies, the park, the museum—it was as if Adora wanted to show her everything Bright Moon had to offer. She did sort of like it; being in this new city, full of new people could be intimidating, but any questions she had she could ask Adora. It was as if she was her personal tour guide. Some weekends they just settled on a movie night in, and seeing as they lived right next to each other, they started to visit more and more until it was almost a semi-regular occurrence.

When they weren't in each other's apartments or going around the city, they were texting. It was mostly Adora who started the conversations, though Catra would almost always reply immediately. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't given into the urge of messaging her first, though—even when she knew she was probably busy at the gym or with her friends.

Catra was getting too attached too quickly and she knew it.

To make matters worse, those compelling feelings she'd experienced when first laying eyes on Adora still lingered in the air. Although Catra's mind felt light around Adora—being with her was the closest she'd ever been to cloud nine—her body and soul felt heavy in a way she couldn't quite comprehend. She instinctively kept her guard up, but when she was with Adora she could feel it slipping.

There was something else being left behind that she was struggling to put a name to. All she knew was that whatever it could be, it wasn't fear (she knew that emotion far too well). It made her shiver when she tried to dig too deep for the solution of her inner conflict.

Catra eventually realised that spending her nights dwelling on these unsolvable mysteries and unexplainable emotions wasn't worth her time. It'd be easier to just ignore them so that she could get on with her life... and get on with Adora. Whatever this all was, she knew that girl was somehow tied to it, and she'd much rather leave her out of it. Catra had a good thing going and she didn't want to ruin it.

However, it was hard to ignore these growing feelings the more she spent time with Adora. The two were banterous, boisterous and downright jarring to each other, and worse as a pair. In the moments when they were serious, Catra could never truly shake the intensity of her stare—it made her think back to when they first met not long ago—or how loud her presence felt in a room, even if it was just the two of them in absolute silence. She especially thought back to the weight of Adora's hand on her shoulder or knee, how it seemed to be the only thing she could pay attention to in those moments. Worst of all, it made her think of the spark when their fingers brushed, or when their skin touched, and the way it would jolt her awake. It was like a reminder of some sort...or maybe a warning.

Everything Adora said or did commanded Catra's attention. It was as if she had some unknown power over her, and all Catra could do was give in.

Why had Adora taken such an interest in her? She couldn't figure it out. Maybe it was initially out of pity after that coffee 'date' (Catra still didn't think it was the right word), but it had bloomed into genuine curiosity and intrigue. Catra supposed she'd never find out unless she asked. Her interest in Adora was easy enough to explain. Anyone who even looked at her could understand what there was to be interested in—even if it was just on the surface level. They saw a perfect, buff, blonde girl who managed to get where she was because of the fortunate connections she'd made on the way. That wasn't the whole truth, Catra learned. Adora hadn't had everything handed to her on a silver platter—in fact, she worked harder than most did to get where she was now. Catra respected that.

It was nearly a month of living in Bright Moon when things began to perplex Catra even more. Strangely, it began when she noticed a shift in her dreams. It was hard not to notice when she was so used to nightmares, or no recollection of her dreams at all. When she woke up for the first time after the dream, Catra initially thought little of it. Maybe her recent good fortune was to thank for her brain giving her some breathing room. She welcomed the break willingly, and quickly went back to sleep.

However, by the end of the week, she had grown more tired and confused by it. Every single night, Monday through Friday, her brain mocked her with these convoluted and cryptic messages. She tried to pick apart all of the details that she could recall, but none of them made sense.

In these dreams she always seemed to be somewhere high up, and she was looking up at the night sky, staring at a thousand blinding stars. She remembered them calling out to her as if they knew her, as if they were old friends. Sometimes they were saying something else, but the words always seemed to escape her every time she got close to an answer. Dream Catra reached out at the stars, trying to grab them and steal them away from the sky, but to no avail. In the dreams she appeared to be looking at two specific constellations. She couldn't tell which ones they were—but if she were to guess, one of them might have been hers. One piece of her dreams she could never connect was the unyielding feeling someone had been there with her. She couldn't remember a name, a face, or even a voice. She had only somehow felt, no sensed their presence all around her, light like the wind of a warm summer's evening, but there nonetheless.

Maybe Catra was going crazy, but strange things started happening to her outside of her dreams too. It was subtle at first, easy enough to go unnoticed by her when she'd always had the enhanced senses of a magicat—she could hear and smell metres further than the average human. She often knew when Adora was bundling into her room after a run to check in and say hi, because she could smell her sweat, and she knew her usual routine. It started happening far too often, though—this knowing—and instead of her ears twitching or nose wrinkling, she felt a faint tingling.

When she went on a shopping run later on Thursday night, the weather was surprisingly pleasant for the time of year, with no heavy breeze. Yet, just before Adora could call Catra's name, she felt this chill creep up her spine. Catra couldn't believe that this was just a coincidence, but she really wasn't sure what was going on.

To add onto the end of an already baffling week, she knew she wouldn't have time to ponder on any of this over the next week, because work was starting to pick up again. This meant less time relaxing, less time spent with friends...and less time with Adora.

The next week had truly proven to be stressful, and a stressed Catra was never fun to be around. She had lashed out at Scorpia over the phone on Wednesday (she'd made a mental note to take her out for ice cream over the weekend as an apology), and on Thursday completely shut down hanging out with Adora. She knew her impoliteness was something she had to work on (her therapist had mentioned it more than a few times), but she had reacted much worse to stress in the past.

Catra had also been getting headaches throughout the week, and no matter how many pills she took, they never seemed to fade when she wanted them to. Talking to Adora soothed her somehow—maybe because she balanced Catra's fiery attitude with her own more placating one (although Adora could definitely be fiery too). When she snapped at Adora, it had unsurprisingly made everything worse, and the rest of her night was a hellfire to get through.

Nevertheless, she knew that wasn't an excuse for acting like a douche. She was counting down to the end of the week, so she could finally get some rest and make it up to her friends.

Friday was the worst.

By the time Catra was done for the day all she wanted to do was collapse in bed, but her head was pounding and for some reason her feet seemed to carry her to the liquor store. She decided to go for two bottles of hard cider, so she could drink some now and stock up for later. As she made her way back to the apartment, she felt a familiar shiver go up her spine and turned around to see a familiar figure in a red windbreaker, black leggings and white running shoes.

Despite the shitty day she had, a grin crept on Catra's face.

"Hey, Adora." she tilted her head as she looked at her.

Out of breath, Adora huffed as she said, "Catra."

All Catra could hear were the sound of distant cars in the background and Adora's heavy breathing as they stood quietly.

Adora, as always, was the first to break the silence. "You still pissed at—wait, what were you pissed at?"

Catra couldn't help but chuckle as she forgot that Adora was still so new to seeing her aggravation at virtually nothing. "Just work. And myself I guess. It was pretty tough this week, and I'm not great at...not taking it out on people."

Adora gave her an unimpressed look.

"I'm working on it though." Catra said and Adora nodded in response, knowing that was the closest she'd get to an apology.

"So," Adora started, "What...uh, brings you out here at this time in the evening?"

Catra raised the bag in her hand. "Alcohol. You want some? I do owe you."

Letting out a laugh, Adora took up Catra's offer. That was how they ended up sharing a bottle of cider in the park nearby their apartment complex on a Friday night.

Mind foggy and headache forgotten, Catra was content to sit there all night, giggling at the shapes of shadows and telling nonsensical stories. That was also the first time Catra had seen Adora drunk—that alone was entertaining enough. Gone was the more reserved, uptight Adora that she had gotten used to. Then again, she wasn't usually like that with Catra for the most part (though out of the two, Catra was definitely less mature). However, this Adora was even more goofy, even more open, and borderline unmanageable. Catra was only slightly buzzed, because she knew better than to get blackout drunk in the dark outside, even if they were only a couple of minutes away from the complex. It was a good thing she knew better, too, because Adora was definitely more than a little buzzed. If neither of them could stand on their feet, getting back home would make the journey take double the time.

Catra used to drink alcohol or smoke solely because it made it easier to spend time around people; to numb their words and make things more bearable. She was never really addicted (though her therapist didn't agree). She had grown out of the habit now, arguably because she had better company, and it was refreshing to have the ability to recall conversations as more than a hazy mess. It wasn't like she needed to drink around Adora anyway—the last thing she wanted was to forget the words she said. Being around Adora herself was intoxicating in a way she could hardly describe. She didn't need to be drunk or faded when Adora herself made her feel as if she could ascend to the heavens. Catra couldn't ignore that that was certainly more alluring than a bottle of wine.

Catra took another swig of the bottle before handing it back to Adora. "You usually get wasted in a park on Fridays?" she asked casually, though there was a hint of a grin on her face.

It brought another laugh out of Adora, and a sloppy shove which Catra neatly dodged, all while she tried to ignore the pleasant warmth in her chest.

"No, silly," she shook her head for a little too long. "Usually, I just...y'know, chill?" Adora said slowly, and Catra held back a laugh of her own.

"What? What's so funny?" Adora asked, shaking Catra's arm.

Catra eased her off and replied, "Nothing, nothing princess. You're clearly not used to drinking though, huh? Weren't into the college party scene I'm guessing?"

Adora sat up a little, looked down at the ground and pouted. "I was busy." she said.

"Busy?" Catra repeated, eyebrows raised.

Adora didn't explain any further, and instead jumped off the bench.

"Let's go home, Catra!" she said with an unneeded sense of urgency.

Nevertheless, Catra rose to her feet too, and put the now empty bottle in her bag before setting off in the direction of their apartment. She only got a few paces before realising that she couldn't feel the strong, yet comforting presence of Adora—that her warm body wasn't practically bouncing off the walls next to her. Huffing, she turned around to see Adora still standing by the bench with her arms crossed, a pout on her face. She rolled her eyes.

"What, Adora?"

Twiddling her thumbs like a nervous child, she looked down at the ground again, then up at Catra and said, "Carry me?"

Catra briefly choked on her saliva. When she recovered, she noticed how much her face had heated up. Maybe she was more drunk than she'd previously thought? She took a step towards her friend, but no more.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Catra decided on saying. She was not in any way flustered (though, even if she obviously was, she wasn't too sure that Adora would even notice with the state she was in).

Adora took two large steps as if it was her turn to make a move, placing herself directly in front of Catra.

"Piggyback?" she said it as though it was a question—as if she still wanted to give Catra the choice. With her face flushed, hair disheveled, lips upturned, and breath fanning Catra's mouth, it didn't feel like she had much of a choice.

Taking a gulp, Catra ignored the thumping in her chest, the electricity between them, the way Adora eyes taunted her and told her to jump! Jump into the sea of the unknown!

"Can you stand on the bench?" she chose to whisper instead.

Adora considered the question for a second, then nodded. She made her way back to the bench, and Catra followed behind her. It wasn't difficult for Adora to climb on the bench, despite how much she'd drank. Catra still held her hands up to be cautious, but other than a little stumble that she quickly recovered from, Adora was fine. Catra stood directly in front of her, presenting her back to Adora, and she couldn't help but feel a bit ridiculous. Why had she agreed to this, again? Then she remembered Adora just moments before, and the question vanished from her mind. She still felt stupid, but at the same time she couldn't shake the odd intimacy of them like this—standing in a park when it was completely dark out, just the two of them in silence with Adora about to mount Catra. It made her feel...vulnerable in a way she hadn't in a long time. Catra bit the inside of her cheek and thought about how unsure she was—had this been what her therapist meant when they told her to allow herself to be more vulnerable around others? Probably not.

Adora's hands on her shoulders pulled her out of her thoughts, and she readied herself for the weight.

"Ready?" Catra asked, grabbing onto the back of Adora's thighs.

When she let out a little noise in affirmation, Catra took one last breath before bracing for her to jump onto her back. She let out a grunt as Adora landed, as unsurprisingly, she wasn't very light. Catra silently thanked herself for letting Scorpia drag her to the gym. She shimmied Adora up a little, and knew that she would not last the whole way back.

"Listen, when you get too heavy, I'm tapping your leg and dropping you, okay?" Adora's only response was to grip her tighter, head nuzzling at her shoulder. Catra tried to suppress the shiver that washed over her body.

The fragments of fire that followed with Adora's presence was something she'd gotten uncomfortably used to, but it was almost always brief, in flashes, and the rest of the time they stayed under the surface. There was always that mellow, misty feeling though—like an unawakened beast, one that she never intended to prod until now.

It was because she seemed to be burning up now—like an explosion waiting to happen, sparks flying everywhere. She shook the feeling off though, figuring it was just in her head, and started to trudge her way back to their apartments.

Catra ended up carrying Adora almost all the way back. Maybe it was because she would feel bad for making her walk, especially with the way she grew limp in her hold from tiredness. Maybe it was because she'd grown to like the decisive weight on her—it grounded her, keeping her from spiralling despite it being the thing that caused her to spiral. Everything else eventually calmed, like the sea after a storm. Though the heat in her face still remained, and her heart was beating far too fast, Catra blamed it on the physical exertion.

Once they'd made it to the door of the complex, Catra tapped Adora's leg, and whispered, "Adora, we're here."

Obediently, Adora slumped off, and Catra immediately missed the warmth, the fire that lit with having Adora so close. As quickly as the thought came however, she pushed it away at the shake of her head. No. She could not go there right now.

The elevator ride up was silent, and Catra thought for a second that maybe Adora had sobered up a little. The dazed stare and jitters said otherwise. Catra sighed as she realised she couldn't just leave Adora at her doorstep.

After fumbling to get the key from Adora's jacket pocket, she unlocked the door and ushered her in. Adora collapsed on the couch, and Catra went to her kitchen to get her a glass of water. She heard Adora kick her shoes off and sigh happily. As she entered the living room again, Adora's eyes seemed to follow her until she was handing her the glass.

"Drink." she said and Adora gulped it down in one go.

Handing her back the glass, Catra asked if she wanted more and she nodded. Two more glasses later and Catra was sitting with Adora on the other end of the couch, gaze locked on her as she sat there with her eyes closed. After another minute or so, Catra tore her gaze away from her peaceful, serene face, and nudged her with her foot. Adora opened her eyes immediately.

"Come on. You need to shower and get some sleep." Catra rose from her seat and Adora did too, albeit begrudgingly.

Before Adora shut herself into the bathroom, Catra called to ask where she kept her medicine. Once she retrieved some painkillers, she went into Adora's room and placed them on her bedside table. This wasn't the first time she'd been to Adora's, but because Adora happened to have roommates whom Catra actively avoided, she wasn't as familiar with the apartment. She didn't want to feel their inquisitive stares, or answer any questions about her heritage. They did keep their thoughts to themselves and mind their own business, though, so Catra did too. When Catra and Adora hung out it would usually be at her place—unless Adora's roommates were out like they were now, thankfully.

Adora's room was small—it had just enough room for a desk, bed, bookcase, and a closet in the corner—and, well, it lacked personality. No posters, pictures, or anything else decorated the walls (which were plain white), and everything was so neat. One would think it was a guest room, not a lived-in space. The Adora that Catra knew had many layers to her personality, so it struck her as odd that not an ounce of it seemed to transfer into her room. She took another glance at the desk however, and saw the books piled neatly on top of another. She wasn't one to pry, but Catra noticed how one of them just seemed to be a leatherbound journal unlike the rest. She smiled at that.

Maybe the room didn't lack personality—it was just hiding in different places. And if anything, Adora's room was a perfect metaphor for herself—seemingly plain and perfect at a first glance, but the closer one looked, the more of the truth they saw.

She hadn't realised how much she'd wandered until she noticed Adora standing in the doorway, with nothing but a towel wrapped around her. Catra could do nothing but stand there, frozen in place. Her hair was down, something which was uncharacteristic for Adora, and it was slightly damp and curling at the ends. Despite having dried herself off, water still seemed to drip off of her, from her forehead down to her collar bone, travelling down, down, down...

Catra shook her head, stopping her mind from drifting there. No. Not now. Maybe not ever. Because she wouldn't, she couldn't ruin things.

According to her therapist, Catra had to work on trusting herself and to trust her emotions—to see that they weren't putting her in any danger. For a split second—with Adora standing there undeterred and unbothered, looking at her with those ocean eyes—Catra wanted nothing more than to dive headfirst into them. Catra could feel the immense weight of her stare like always, and she felt heat, so much heat that she sure it wasn't just the room. Catra thought that maybe she could just let go. Maybe. Adora stepping forward broke her out of her trance, and she quickly back peddled. Adora was probably still drunk.

"Oh, sorry, I wasn't snooping, I was just putting some pills and water by your bed. I probably should have asked, my b—"

"It's fine." Adora took another step forward. One more step and Catra would be trapped between her and the desk.

Catra's eyes flitted down to Adora's lips, and she quickly regretted it when it was clear Adora had noticed. She needed to get out of here.

"I, uh, better go, let you get some rest and all." she stuttered through her sentence, but Adora didn't seem to care or take note of what she said at all.

Instead, she took that last step, and Catra felt her whole body react to it. Why did her limbs feel like they were on fire again? She wasn't carrying Adora anymore.

"Catra," Adora started. "I had fun tonight. I wasn't feeling too great before so...thanks." by the end of her sentence, she trailed off into a whisper, and once again, her breath was hot on Catra's lips. This time when she breathed in it smelt of mint instead of cider.

Her stomach twisted as she replied, equally breathy, "Yeah, it was."

Somehow, Adora had gotten even closer. Somehow, Catra's back was pressed into the desk. Somehow, Adora was leaning down to meet Catra. To meet her lips.

Not only was there that searing heat that threatened to burn them both, but the electricity, that niggling buzz was more incessant than ever before. The closer Adora got, the harder it was to tune out, the more the hair of her tail stood on its end, until it finally got too much to bear. Until Catra finally came to her senses, and just as Adora's lips were ghosting hers—

"Adora..." Catra sighed, out of breath despite the fact that nothing was happening.

"Yes?" Her eyes were still closed.

"You're drunk."

Adora stepped back at that, and Catra felt instant relief at the gesture. The silence between them was thick now, laced with a new tension that Catra hadn't accounted for. She knew Adora wasn't planning on saying anything, so she collected herself somewhat and cleared her throat, standing up straight.

"I gotta go. Sleep, okay? And text me tomorrow?" Catra hoped the unspoken words of 'but please don't visit because I don't think I'll be able to handle it', got through as well.

"I will." she replied, and moved out of Catra's way. A clear path away from the suffocating heat and buzz and tension in the air.

Catra mumbled a goodnight and made her way out of Adora's apartment as quickly as she could without looking like she was running away. Running away from her.

She supposed that was exactly what she was doing.

Going to sleep that night was a challenge. Her mind was stuck replaying her evening: every word, every action, every gesture. The stares, the piggyback, the almost kiss. Did it mean anything to Adora, or was she just drunk? She wasn't usually so difficult to read. Catra eventually got tired of thinking about Adora, and tried thinking of something else. She wasn't successful.

Her last thought before letting sleep overcome her was the realisation she'd forgotten her second bottle of alcohol at Adora's.