The Aftershock (of your touch)

IV. So I'd rather be left for dead

The next day, after work, Catra went back to the library and borrowed a couple of the books she had read when she had come before. However, she didn't read them right away. No, at first she shoved them under her bed, out of sight because she still couldn't stand to think of it all. The rest of her week was even more miserable and frantic than the last, and now the thought of hanging out with Adora no longer kept her going, but exhausted her. Over the week, she still received a few messages from her, most of which she didn't respond to. When she did, it was to say she was busy, or tired, or something of the sort. By Thursday, she knew she couldn't keep it up. Not only that, but she also felt guilty for doing so. Catra had gone through most of her life feeling guilty over things, whether it was her doing or not, but she'd always buried it deep, masked it with anger and resentment, because that was most of what she was feeling.

This guilt, however—it felt much more somber. It was the type of guilt that ate you up inside, the type of guilt that couldn't be masked because it was rapidly growing. It was the type that refused to stop growing until something intervened to do so, and for a little while, Catra stood her ground and let the guilt eat her insides. That was why her week was so miserable. But by Thursday, she gave in.

She had just finished work, about to collapse onto her couch, when she received another text from Adora reading: hey, I know you've been super busy this week, but I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner?

Catra's immediate reaction was to refuse, to make up another excuse. But it was becoming clearer and clearer that those were most certainly lies, because Catra had never gotten so busy that she had to skip out on seeing Adora before, usually the worst it got was last week's schedule. Also, it was just dinner—sitting a safe distance away, across the table from each other, eating food which meant they would hardly have to talk if they didn't want to. Catra was hungry as well, and although Adora wasn't a spectacular cook, she did make delicious dessert pies. Her stomach grumbled at the thought.

And she'd missed laughing, smiling, teasing Adora. It had barely been a week—how sad was that? It's not as though she didn't see her around. Every time they'd passed each other in the hallway, a smile (similar to the one she'd worn all those weeks ago when they'd barely known each other) would be plastered on her face. She regarded her warmly each time without fail, as if the look was reserved for Catra. Frankly, it made avoiding her so much worse. Catra thought that maybe it would have been easier to avoid her, to say no to that stupid message if those dazzling blue eyes didn't brighten every day at the sight of her. Catra, in the rotten mood she was in, didn't think she deserved that look. She didn't deserve a second glance from Adora, especially with what she was doing.

That might have been why Catra said: sure, I'll be over in 15.

She didn't really need fifteen minutes, seeing as Adora lived right next door. Within five minutes, she had already stripped out of her work clothes (frankly, they were just slightly more formal clothes than what she usually wore) into some comfortable—but arguably stylish—clothes: a pair of black leggings and a cropped hoodie, not bothering to put shoes on as she'd just be going across the hall. Catra spent the last ten minutes trying to calm herself down, attempting to get her heartbeat back down to a normal pace, attempting to think rational thoughts.

Rational thoughts, such as: this wouldn't be a car crash; she would be fine; she could even, maybe, possibly have fun. After exactly ten minutes of panicking, of cycling through the same thoughts over and over, she finally picked herself up off her bedroom floor (as soon as she'd gotten ready, everything had hit her and she'd literally crumbled) stepped out into the hallway, shutting her door and facing Adora's. She took one last breath, running her hands through her hair before clutching the door handle—she always left it unlocked when she knew Catra was coming over.

As Catra stepped into her apartment, the smell of food immediately hit her nose, that and the familiar weight of Adora's presence, how it seemed to buzz at Catra's arrival. The headache she'd had earlier seemed to wash away like writing on the shore of a beach.

"Hey, Adora." She stood leaning against the door frame, hoping to come across as the opposite to what she was feeling on the inside.

Adora was laying out the table, but as soon as she heard the door, she stopped to look up at Catra. Blue eyes met split ones, and just that stare alone nearly choked Catra. The smile she wore with it made it no better. Catra was already regretting her decision.

"Catra," Adora said, setting down the cutlery she'd been holding. "Hey, uh, hi. I was just setting the table, but could you finish it for me? I need to check on the vegetables."

The response had shocked Catra. Nevertheless, she nodded, closing the door and going over to the table to do what was asked of her, while Adora rushed back to the kitchen. She'd expected her to open with it. To ask something like, why haven't we seen each other? or it's nearly been a week. But she didn't even seem mad. Not even slightly. Maybe it was a tactic to get Catra's guard down, striking when she least expected it. The rational side of her argued that wouldn't be the case though—Adora wasn't dumb, but she wasn't a master manipulator either, or anything of the sort. She could hear her therapist's words about instincts—how they weren't always correct and could be in response to trauma, blah, blah—bounce around in her head. Maybe she was overreacting. Who knew? She sighed, quiet enough Adora wouldn't hear.

Once Catra was done setting the table, she went over to the kitchen to see how Adora was doing.

"Whatcha cookin', princess? Didn't think you really could, so I had to see for myself." Catra said, a smirk on her face.

Adora laughed. "Well, crazy enough, I can, Catra. Just... not often. Anyway, it's a surprise, so go sit down and be patient." She shot Catra a look. Catra took that as her cue to go away, stifling a chuckle as she made her way to her seat.

Catra couldn't help but take note of how her tail swayed, side to side, and realised that just five minutes with Adora had made her feel less miserable (dare she say happy) than she had for the whole week. And although the fact she felt so warm inside should have been a dangerous indicator that she was in too deep, that it would never be a simple as 'avoid Adora and Adora's touch' Catra let that warmth take over her for the evening, she let herself have this, let herself relish in the laughs, the smiles, the stares, the brief, innocent touches that seemed to shoot blood up her veins. Because she wouldn't have it for any longer. She was going to get rid of these feelings.

Once they'd finished their main meal (it had been vegetable pasta, one of Catra's favourite dishes. She'd mentioned as an offhand comment weeks ago, which had meant Adora had either committed it to memory as soon as she'd heard it, or sat down and thought back to their conversations—both possibilities had made Catra's cheeks grow hot with something she wasn't quite sure she wanted to name), Adora set out dessert, which was one of her famous pie recipes. This time, it was a blueberry pie, and apparently, this one wasn't one of Adora's.

"My nana—Razz. She taught me how to bake. It was the first pie I ever baked her." She wore a sad smile.

Catra frowned. "Did she...?" she started to ask, and Adora nodded. She felt a pang in her chest. Why? Catra didn't know, she usually never felt so...remorseful over things like this, especially not over a woman she never knew.

"Yeah, a couple years ago actually. I still miss her—a lot." Adora played with the fork in her hands, rather than looking up at Catra.

Genuinely, Catra felt sad.

"Hey," she said, and tilted Adora's head up, ignoring the jolt that it caused from her fingers, spreading down her arm. "I'm sorry. But...at least you have something to remember her by, right?"

Adora nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek as she sniffled.

Catra removed her hand from under Adora's chin. It suddenly felt a lot heavier. With a small smile, she gestured to the pie. "Now, let's eat."

They both dug into the pie after that, mostly eating in silence, the few words which were exchanged being about the food itself. Once they'd finished, Catra helped by clearing the table, also doing the majority of the dishes while Adora sat on a countertop, watching her while she made small talk.

It was comfortable.

After that, it was time for Catra to leave. It had just turned eight, and both girls still had work tomorrow. Also, Adora's roommates were due to return from some trip today, and Catra still had no intention of interacting with them.

Adora insisted on walking Catra to her door, and despite her protests ("Really, Adora, it's fine, I live next-fucking-door, you literally don't need to do this!") she obviously won the argument. Just like when Catra had came back from the library, Adora watched her unlock her door, but instead of refusing to turn around, the impulse to do so won out.

"Thanks. For the food. Hopefully I don't get poisoned from it." she said, just barely grinning.

Adora scoffed at the latter half of her sentence. "No problem Catra, I was happy to cook. And I promise you won't die from it."

A beat went by where Catra didn't move to go inside and Adora didn't move to go back into her apartment either. Then, Adora started.

"Hey, I know I waited a while to bring it up but, I just didn't really know what to say, and when you started ignoring me well I—anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for that night where I tried to, y'know..." Adora looked down at the ground before meeting Catra's eyes again. "It wasn't cool. And I was drunk, sure, but that's not an excuse for my behaviour. I should have known better."

Catra was stunned. It felt wrong that Adora was apologising. Did she really think she was in the wrong? Yeah, she'd tried to kiss her, but she was drunk, and Catra had practically ignored her for nearly a week over it. Well, not just that.

"So Catra, are we...are we cool?" Adora asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Huh? Oh—yeah, of course. Of course we're cool, Adora." Catra tried her best to wear a reassuring smile.

Adora smiled back, then took a step forward, before faltering. The action had baffled Catra, until Adora asked, "can I...?" gesturing at her and she realised she was asking permission to hug her.

Catra felt her insides melt. As if standing next to her wasn't enough to make her feel the weight of the world on her shoulders. And yet, despite this, despite how her limbs burned as if protesting against the contact, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Adora's waist and burying her head in her shoulder. Adora was clearly stunned, but after a second or so, Catra felt arms around her neck, and all within the same second she felt her tail wrap around Adora's ankle and body shudder, definitely enough for Adora to notice.

Pulling away, Adora brows were creased as she stepped forward, making Catra take a step back, a foot on her apartment mat now.

"Catra, are you—"

"I'm fine, Adora." Catra said, pace quick and tone insistent.

"But, you..." she reached out to place her hand on her shoulder, but Catra stepped back once more.

"I'm fine. You can go."

Adora opened her mouth to say something, getting as far as the first word before Catra snapped.

"Seriously, just fucking—just go." The volume of her voice had fallen as quickly as it had risen.

Shoulders slumped, she stepped into her apartment fully, and not waiting for Adora to reply, she shut the door.

As soon as she heard the slam of the other door—Adora's door—she fought the urge to crumble to the floor, instead collapsing on the couch. Her body still felt the effect of Adora's touch, her tail was wrapped around her tightly and she could feel another headache coming on. She needed to stop this. She couldn't continue like this. After minutes, maybe hours, Catra pulled herself up from the couch, forcing herself to take a shower, before crawling into bed. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn't drift off like she had hoped to, and instead, found herself reaching under her bed for the books she'd borrowed from the library.

That night, she'd stayed up until 2, possibly 3am, reading, all in hope she'd find something, some clue, some method to stop it all. To stop all these feelings. To stop Adora from consuming her entire being.

Catra barely stayed awake throughout work the next day, and was glad that thankfully nobody noticed. Or, at least no one important noticed. She'd checked her phone throughout the day, mostly out of habit, never having anything other than a message from Scorpia, Entrapta or notifications from pointless apps she seldom checked. Nothing from Adora.

That was what Catra had wanted though, right? So why hadn't that crippling guilt feeling fucked off yet? Catra shook the thought off and did her best to concentrate on her work whilst sleep deprived and mind swarming with an array of thoughts. It worked—for the most part.

After work, Catra had gone back to the Whispering Woods library to return the two books she'd finished just last night, and picked up two more that could possibly hold answers. She had also considered just using the internet, but she wasn't sure how accurate it'd be. Although, it would be quicker—Catra figured she should try the internet first before resorting to books again. She'd rather not stay up reading into the early hours of the day. Thankfully, it was a Friday, which meant no responsibilities until Monday again. With that in mind, she decided to buy a case of beer for herself and indulge in some shitty tv shows while buzzed.

It had been a while since she'd gotten drunk by herself, and exactly a week since she'd gotten drunk with Adora. Adora. She had ironically been the reason why Catra decided to get drunk on her own on a Friday night. Coming back from work, Catra had felt her coming in her direction, (most likely on an evening run) but there was no place she could hide, nowhere to run to, since they both lived at the same place. She prayed to the First Ones that Adora wouldn't try to start a conversation with her, or try to get her to explain her abrupt outburst. It seemed like it worked. But instead, she got something worse in return. Somehow worse than that, somehow worse than the bright smile she'd received for weeks on end now that threatened to make her combust. Instead, she got a meek attempt of the infamous smile, one that looked more like a grimace.

Worst of all were her eyes. Dull. They were sunken in and dull.

And instead of the warmth Catra was used to, the euphoric feeling she'd become close friends with, she felt cold. The shiver that crawled up her spine was unlike the other ones—this one seemed to die along the way. Catra couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand the coldness, the emptiness, she had to get rid of it, not permanently like she'd been trying to, but at least temporarily—something to mask it, wash over it, make her mind hazy.

That was how her feet carried her to the liquor store instead of her apartment, and how she ended up with a whole case of beer for herself. When the same thing happened (passing Adora, the unintentionally somber smile, the chilling feeling, then the alcohol) multiple days in a row, Catra started making sure to avoid Adora completely. Dodging texts, or answering as little as possible was easy, she'd already started doing that, but dodging Adora turned herself out to be trickier; even if she did know her schedule pretty well, she could still be unpredictable at times.

Nevertheless, she'd gotten the hang of it, only narrowly cutting it close occasionally. Other than that, Catra had been skilfully avoiding Adora for nearly two weeks. It sucked, even Catra could admit that. Scorpia had to point it out first though.

"Wildcat, do you think this is a good idea?" she had asked when they were over at Entrapta's house. "You seem kinda...well, you are more irritable than usual."

Catra groaned. "It doesn't matter if this is or isn't a good idea, Scorp. I just need to find a solution—and I will—and then I won't be 'irritable' okay?"

"I mean...sure, that could work, but I don't see why you can't just, I don't know, talk to her?" Scorpia said with a shrug.

Entrapta butted in then and said, "Yes, Scorpia is right! My observations show that you were much less irritable when you allowed yourself to talk to Adora, and studies also show that communication is the most effective way to solve a relationship problem and that ignoring it—"

"Entrapta, there is no relationship, just stop. I'm doing this my way and I shouldn't have to explain it to you guys, okay? Stop being so fucking ridiculous." Catra snapped back, crossing her arms with a frown.

Letting out a small sigh, Scorpia tried once more. "Seriously, Catra. You could end up doing more harm than good."

In reply, Catra just let out a hiss and said, "I don't. Care. No more talking about this."

Both knew better than to aggravate her further, and kept their mouths shut for the rest of the evening.

Catra had felt horrible returning home that night. Not only had she shut out Adora, but she was starting to shut out her friends too. It seemed like she was close to hitting the self-destruct button like she had many times before. However, she shunned the thought as it came. No—she was getting better. She was going to therapy, being more open, being more vulnerable. This was just a setback. Once she found a solution, a way for the feelings to stop, everything would be back on course.

She had yet to mention all this to her therapist. How would they react to all of this? What would they think, say? Probably just the standard therapy stuff. Or maybe not, sometimes they'd come out and say the last thing Catra expected them to say. That was probably why Catra hadn't said anything. Because she hardly wanted to think about it, let alone talk about it, and least of all, listen to what someone had to say about it.

It was all so draining. Everything.

So when Catra went home that day—pissed at Scorpia, pissed at Entrapta, pissed at the world, and most of all at herself—and wasn't taunted by feeling Adora's presence looming in the air, begging to be sought out, only a door between them, she was almost relieved. Then she was worried. It was a Sunday night, and Adora wasn't one for going out to parties or clubs, especially not with work the next day.

Obviously, all the calls and texts Catra had previously received had ceased, and Catra wouldn't be the one to send one, even now. So she did the next best thing—checking her socials. The most obvious place to check first was Snapchat. As she sat on her couch, checking snap maps, she realised that according to this, Adora wasn't even in Bright Moon right now. Anxiety spiked in her chest. Biting her lips, she swiped back down and then checked if there was anything on her story. The next app she checked was Instagram, which Adora definitely posted on more frequently. Surely there would be something on there.

To her relief there was. A picture on her story of Adora holding a Starbucks coffee with a goofy smile and the caption: work trip! Catra nearly face palmed herself. Of course. With everything that had been going on she had completely forgot that Adora had mentioned she had a work trip coming up, which was apparently now. Adora worked at this sports marketing company, and they occasionally had promotional events, some of them being outside of Bright Moon.

Briefly, Catra had thought that maybe Adora had upped and left, decided enough was enough, and that the punishment of being nearby didn't suffice. But that was irrational and idiotic, she reminded herself. Adora wasn't like that. She wasn't unnecessarily cruel. And she probably had no clue why Catra was ignoring her.

Anyway, Catra decided this would be a good thing. For a couple of days, she'd be able to have a clear mind; work would be better, hanging out with friends would be fun again and she would be able to more efficiently look for a...cure or whatever.

She had been searching all week now. Going through pages, and pages of searches, forums after forums, blog after blog. They all said the same—unhelpful—thing: either one or both of them has to die, or you need to be as far away from them as humanly possible. Catra didn't intend on killing herself or Adora over this, or abandoning the life she'd made. For the first time in a while, she liked where she was at in life, where she was headed. So she needed to figure something out. She had to.

Eventually, she gave up on the internet and went back to the books. Again, she cycled through another two, was unable to find anything, and got two more. This was the most reading she'd done in a while in such a short space of time, and she was reading about fucking soulmates no less. At this point, she knew more than she'd ever wanted to, and decided after going to bed at 3am for the fifth time that week, that she was tired of it. She pushed the book off her bed (this one was called The Unbreakable Bond, and the irony was not lost on her as she picked it up the other day) letting it drop to the floor as she sighed loudly, closing her eyes, letting sleep wash over her.

It was a Saturday now—meaning it had nearly been a week of Adora being gone, of Catra not feeling that familiar warmth nearby. She almost missed it. Almost. Today, she'd decided on lazing around, since it felt like she hadn't in a while. Most weekends, Scorpia had dragged her out of the house to stop her from moping, and before that, she'd done a lot of hanging out with Adora. Now, with Adora and her not talking, and Scorpia busy until later on, Catra had the perfect excuse to do absolutely nothing. Only, once she had finally sat down and turned her tv on, she felt restless. Like she had to do something. Which is how she'd ended up at the gym, on a Saturday, before midday.

Turned out, having nothing to do caused Catra's mind to circle back to her. The only suitable remedy other than alcohol—she refused to become a day drinker—was mindlessly working out until her muscles ached so hard she could barely move. By the time she finished, she could hardly feel her legs and was ready to sleep for the rest of that day. At least this was one of her more healthy coping mechanisms. Getting back home was a struggle to say the least—Catra had never been so happy to see her bed.

She slept for a good couple hours, and would have slept for a couple more, if it wasn't for the jarring knock which startled her awake. Rubbing her eyes, she let out a yawn. Then she hauled herself out of bed, stretching her limbs on the way to the door. If the message from Scorpia on her phone was anything to go off, she could guess who had knocked.

It was once she'd opened the door and her two friends came in that she noticed the subtle tingling in her limbs. It would have been easy to dismiss it as a post workout ache, but Catra knew better than that.

Adora was back.

Catra bit her lip, door still open as she stared at Adora's. Maybe she could just—

"Catra, hey! You gonna sit down?" Scorpia asked as if it wasn't her own house, already comfortable on the couch.

"Huh? Yeah, duh. You guys want something to drink though?" she asked the both of them.

Neither were big on drinking, but every once in a while they indulged Catra. Today happened to be one of those days. By seven, they were all a little too drunk, sitting on the couch, laughing over a stupid rom-com. Catra really was enjoying herself, even despite knowing Adora was so close by. She couldn't completely shake her presence though, and by eight, somehow it had gotten harder to ignore. Somewhere along the line, Catra had felt a headache coming on (the first in nearly a week) and chose to ignore it, but now, it was getting a little unbearable—even the shots couldn't cover it up. And because of her enhanced senses, it made bad headaches ten times worse than they were for the average person—any little noise could aggravate it.

When Scorpia noticed the way Catra's ears were pinned to her head, she was happy to mute the tv, following what was happening through the subtitles, and Entrapta was hardly paying attention now—her attention had shifted to some game on her phone. They both offered to leave, but up until then, Catra had been enjoying their company and didn't want to spoil the night because of a stupid headache. She'd just power through it.

Only, even once the tv was muted and she'd taken some painkillers, her ears could still pick up on some incessant background noise that sounded a lot like...music? Entrapta wasn't wearing headphones, so it couldn't be her, therefore it wasn't coming from Catra's apartment at all. Catra scrunched up her face.

"What's wrong, Wildcat?" Scorpia asked, loud enough it made Catra flinch. "Oh, sorry—what's wrong?" she said it in a whisper this time.

"Nothing really, just..." Catra's tail curled around her. "You probably can't hear it, but there's this annoying noise in the background, like, music or something. I dunno. It just—yeah."

Scorpia tried to listen out for it, and agreed that she couldn't hear it.

"Is it making it worse though?" she asked and Catra contemplated letting it go, but Scorpia would see right through her—it was easy to do in Catra's current state.

She nodded.

"Do you know where it's coming from?"

Based on the direction of the sound, Catra had an idea. She wished she were actually wrong, but she never usually was when it came to these things.

"Adora's." she mumbled into the hand covering her mouth.

For a moment, it seemed like Scorpia genuinely hadn't heard, until a second later she let out a silent ohh and got up from her seat.

"Scorpia?" Catra stared up at her with a perplexed expression. "What are you doing?"

She didn't answer the question right away, instead focusing on hauling Entrapta up to her feet as well. Catra had no choice but to stand up too then—she didn't want both of them towering over her.

"C'mon," Scorpia beckoned to the door. "All three of us can go and ask them to turn the music down."

Catra took a step back. "No—absolutely not. Why would I do that?"

Scorpia rolled her eyes, which was something that did not happen often. "Because, Catra, it's for your own good. If I have it in my power to help you, I will. But you have to cooperate."

Entrapta agreed. "Cooperation and compromise is important in all relationships."

Letting out something between a sigh and a groan, Catra grumbled, "fine, let's just get this over with."

Seeing as there was some party going on, it was unlikely that Adora would even answer the door. Or maybe Catra was just telling herself that to feel better. As Catra knocked on the door, she felt her chest bubbling with anxiety. The headache coupled with the heaviness of knowing that Adora was just beyond that door made it feel like she was seconds away from imploding.

Thankfully, it wasn't Adora to answer the door. It was a young black man wearing a crop top that said, gosh I love arrows. From the crop top alone she knew this was one of Adora's roommates—was it Arrow? Rainbow, maybe? Adora had mentioned him (and his fashion sense) a couple of times before, and she'd bumped into him on the occasion. He seemed okay. Just overly friendly, like everyone in this damn complex.

"Oh, hey Catra!" He looked at Scorpia and Entrapta beside her. "And Catra's friends! What brings you guys here?"

Catra could hardly concentrate on what he was saying. She was still zoned in on that aggravating music. To add it, the few unrecognisable voices and laughs she could hear all merged into one overpowering sound. Luckily, Scorpia did most of the talking.

"...so if you could turn the music down, that would be really great." was all that she caught of Scorpia's reply. Bow—that was it!—was nodding understandably, and was halfway through saying something when someone who wasn't at the door interrupted.

"Bow? Who is it then?" The voice wasn't Adora's, that's all Catra knew.

"It's just Catra," he replied, and immediately put a hand over his mouth. That wasn't reassuring.

Catra furrowed her brows as Bow got practically pushed out of the way—he had protested against it, but to no avail—and in his place, stood a girl around her height, wearing a bright coloured dress, with purple hair and...glitter on her face? Must be Shimmer. Or Glitter? That name would certainly fit well.

Instead of the warm smile Bow had greeted them with, she was much colder. Her face remained fairly neutral as she studied Scorpia and Entrapta, but as soon as her eyes landed on Catra she frowned. Catra had never even spoken to this girl. What was her problem?

"What do you want?" she asked, looking directly at Catra.

Despite this, Scorpia began to answer. "Well, we're just here because—"

"Scorpia." Catra shook her head. "It's okay. Sparkles here was addressing me."

"Sparkles?" Glimmer said with a sharp laugh. Catra wasn't intimidated even slightly.

She took a step forward, and it was enough that she could see into the apartment. It was quite dim, but she could make out a few bodies, all sitting around in a circle. However, it was substantially quieter than it had been before. This was a bad idea.

"Yeah, suits, doesn't it? Anyway, we just came to ask if you could turn your shitty music down, it's hurting my ears." Catra gestured up at them.

Glimmer took a breath before answering, and Catra wished she would just hurry up, because she just wanted to curl up into a ball with a blanket over her and sleep—sleep until she couldn't anymore. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be this close to Adora, so close that her presence was starting to cloud the air, yet so far. So far from where they were. Where they could be if Catra wasn't so stubborn, so hurt, so damaged.

None of that mattered right now though. What did matter was getting them to turn down that fucking music.

"What makes you think you have the right to ask for anything after what you did?" Glimmer asked, though it was hardly a question and more of an accusation.

Sure, she sensed a little attitude from the girl (maybe it was a short people thing) but she hadn't expected that.

Catra was stunned. "What? I—"

"Glimmer, the pies are ready!"

As soon as she'd heard her voice, Catra's heart had skipped a beat. Not now. She couldn't do this now.

Adora came up to the door to see what all the commotion was about, and immediately froze when she saw Catra.

"Uh, Glim, I think I left a pie in the oven. Could you go and, like, check for me?" Adora asked. It was obviously a lie. Catra knew it, Sparkles knew it, Scorpia knew it—and Entrapta would have, if it wasn't for the fact she was more focused on her phone.

Glimmer protested. "But, Adora—"

"Seriously. I would hate for them to burn." she cut her off, tone a little too dark for her to be talking about just pies.

Muttering, Glimmer walked off, leaving only Adora at the door. She stepped outside, shutting the door to lessen the noise, or prevent eavesdropping.

"Catra...hey." Adora offered her a small smile, and it took all of Catra's willpower not to wrap her tail around herself—a poor attempt to shield herself away from it all, to lessen the cold chill that ran up her spine.

"Hey, Adora." Catra said, though she was uncharacteristically quiet as she said it. She was sure Adora noticed.

She regarded Scorpia and Entrapta next, and had somehow remembered both their names, greeting them with a friendly smile without hesitation. Once they'd swapped pleasantries, Catra thought that would finally be her opportunity to ask (for the third time) for them to turn the music down, and Adora, being Adora, would say yes, and then they could go on their merry way.

Instead, Scorpia and Entrapta kept talking. About what? Catra couldn't tell, it was hard enough to concentrate on one person talking, let alone three having a whole conversation. After a couple of minutes, she had lost her patience and finally spoke up.

"Scorpia, Entrapta?" She looked at them, unimpressed, reminding them why they were here. Then she turned to face Adora. "If you don't stop them, they will talk all night." Catra said dryly, though Adora had laughed at the unintentional joke.

It had been over two weeks since she'd heard that sweet sound, but it made her heart flutter and face heat up all the same. Then she realised that this wasn't what she was here to do.

Clearing her throat, she said, "anyway, could you just, I don't know, turn the music off? It's not loud but—"

"You're sensitive to sound." Adora finished the sentence, nodding. "Yeah, no problem. Sorry about it."

"It's whatever." Catra shrugged.

Adora made no move to go back inside and turn it down however; the three of them stood there, waiting, when she said, "Actually, Catra, could I talk to you? Alone?" The look on her face was desperate, though the blue in her eyes still sparkled with a smidge of hope, the way the sun reflected off the sea on a bright summer day. It was a shame Catra couldn't give into that hope.

Scorpia jumped in, retreating backwards as she said, "oh, it is getting late, me and Entrapta should probably head—"

"No. You guys are fine." she said to the two of them. "I can't really focus with all the noise, so maybe another time." Catra said, trying her best to come across polite.

But Adora was insistent. "We can go to my room, it's quiet there? Or, y'know, outside? I really don't mind, I just—"

"Look," Catra pinched the bridge of her nose, "I'm not in the mood. So go back to your little party with your prissy friends, okay?"

She hadn't meant to snap. She really hadn't. But having Adora close by, talking to her again after two weeks of nothing, was a shock to the system, to say the least. Mixed with the headache, Catra's patience was extremely limited.

Adora didn't seem surprised, or even hurt by the sudden outburst. No, it was worse than that. She seemed angry.

This time, Catra couldn't control her tail wrapping around her ankle and she just barely covered up a tremble with an unconvincing cough.

"Seems like you're never in the mood to talk to me anymore." Adora said, and her eyes that were previously filled with hope now seemed cloudy.

Catra's tail tightened. Taking a gulp didn't help the dryness in her throat. "Well." was all she could manage with Adora's stare crushing her, the weight being almost too heavy to bear.

Adora turned to leave, knowing the conversation was going nowhere. Catra watched her, just like Adora had a couple weeks ago. With Adora's gaze off her, Catra tried again.

"Welcome back, Adora."

Before the door slammed, she heard a scoff.

After that, the mood had been irreversibly dampened, so Scorpia and Entrapta left soon after.

"You sure you're gonna be okay, Wildcat?" Scorpia had asked as they were heading out the door.

Catra mustered up the best smile she could—it hadn't been convincing at all—and said, "I'm sure I'll be fine, Scorp. Go home."

Scorpia didn't argue.

Catra went straight to bed after that. On Sunday, she didn't do much of anything at all. Her body ached from her gym session, and she had nowhere to be anyway. Sunday's had often been reserved for Adora. Now, they were a blank, empty space where something—someone—once was. Catra tried not to think about it—to think about Adora. But the only other thing her brain wanted to ruminate over (for what reason, Catra didn't know) was her past, her childhood, the life she'd desperately clawed her way out of. She thought about the stories she'd been told as a child. How she'd been told that those who thought they had a soulmate were sick. The irony of it now. Maybe she was sick. Thinking about those stories made her think of Adora again. It was an endless cycle. Catra considered calling her therapist. She didn't.

By the end of Sunday, she couldn't wait for work to come around—just so she'd have something to do.

The rest of the week was mostly a blur. A blur that Catra didn't care to remember. A blur Catra didn't want to remember. Adora had finally accepted the silent treatment and started to avoid Catra equally as much, which meant she hardly had to worry about it anymore. When they would pass each other, there were no smiles—somber or full of life—only avoiding eye contact, looking at the ground, refusing to exchange glances. Catra had always thought if Adora stopped smiling, stopped looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered, that it would be easier. But everyday that week when she passed without acknowledging her at all, Catra felt a little more hollow, a little more empty inside.

At this point, she wanted an argument, she wanted to shout, to be angry, to explode over it all—and she knew that as long as she was bonded to Adora, she would probably feel like that. As long as she was nearby. By the end of the week, Catra was genuinely contemplating leaving. To where? She had no clue. But frankly, it didn't matter, as long as it was far away from Bright Moon. From Adora.

Their stalemate inevitably broke on Sunday. Catra had just gone grocery shopping because she hadn't stocked up in weeks and she was tired of having nothing other than beer and old Chinese takeaway in the house. Because of this, she had bought a lot of things, and therefore, she had a lot of bags to carry. More than she could handle. So when she'd gotten to her door, she knew that opening it would be a struggle. Honestly, she should have put her keys in a more reachable place—shoving it in her back pocket had to be the stupidest mistake she'd made all day. As she struggled to juggle the obscene amount of bags in one hand (she was determined for them to stay off the floor), she also sensed Adora coming up the elevator. It shouldn't have mattered, and after seven days of ignoring each other, Catra's heart shouldn't have sped up, her face shouldn't have grown hotter, but it still did. She reminded herself nothing would happen; Adora wouldn't talk to her now, especially if she hadn't in a week—this wasn't a special occasion.

The elevator had opened now, and Adora was now in Catra's peripheral vision, strolling down the hallway, in a surprisingly chipper mood. Every day when Catra had seen her, she looked almost as miserable as her. Now, she looked as if the whole of this week hadn't happened. Catra felt something stir inside her, something close to resentment.

She had grown so distracted by her presence that Catra hardly noticed—and just when she'd finally reached her key!—one of her bags tore open, and all of the items in it came pouring out, just as Adora had reached her door. She knew she should have gotten the stronger bags.

"Shit," she murmured, dropping her other bags on the floor in an attempt to salvage what had fallen. Her back was facing Adora, and when she didn't hear the sound of her lock turning, she knew what that meant. Catra cursed Adora's altruism.

"Here, lemme help." Adora said.

She walked over, crouching down to grab a carton of milk off the ground, just as Catra went to get the same one. Their hands brushed—and after so long of not feeling the sensation, the usual small jolt felt like an electric shock. Catra let out a hiss, and Adora stepped back.

"I don't need your help," Catra picked up the carton herself to prove it. Some of the milk was leaking out of it. She cursed.

"Well, I'm offering to help, okay?" Adora took a step forward, picking up an avocado from the ground.

Catra snatched it back. "No. Not 'okay'. You don't get to force things on me. If I don't want your help, I don't want it. Clear?"

Adora picked another item off the ground. "Not clear. I don't want to play this avoiding game anymore. I'm tired, Catra." Another step.

Faltering for a second, Catra felt herself getting overwhelmed by that heat again, by Adora's unyielding stare and the bright blue of her eyes, pinning her to the spot; equally, she couldn't help but notice how underneath, they were sunken in, dark. Catra did her best to shake it off though, letting out a sharp laugh.

"Who said it was a game, Adora?"

Adora was silent. Catra took the other fruit out of her hands. She began picking up the rest of them and shoving it into other bags. Adora was still standing there. It was only a matter of seconds before she said something.

"Catra, seriously, can't we just talk? We can't keep doing this. Please. I just want you to hear me out." She grabbed Catra's shoulder, and she jolted away from it immediately, trying to ignore the aftershock of the contact.

Standing up straight, Catra looked right into Adora's eyes and said, "Well, I want you to fuck off. I'm not gonna say it nicely anymore."

She thought that would get through to Adora, that she was being as blunt as can be. But she pushed on.

"What about me, Catra? Have you thought about that?"

Adora was right. Catra hated that. She hated it so much, so much, because she supposed she hadn't, but she couldn't right now, her mind was overwhelmed by every little thing, every single thought; Adora's stare was too much, too soul crushing, too devastating, and what came out next was—

"I don't fucking care about you! Have you thought that maybe me avoiding you is because I want nothing to do with you? Because I don't. So leave me the hell alone."

As soon as it came out, as soon as she saw Adora's face fall, and the way she staggered back, she wished the words had died in her throat. They hadn't. The chilling cold was back, accompanied by a new feeling:

Utter heartbreak.

Catra didn't put her groceries away that day.