Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The party had slipped into that kind of chaos where time blurred—music thumping, lights flashing, half the school scattered across the house in groups of laughter and bad decisions.

Adora leaned against the railing of the back porch, cup in hand, staring out into the dark backyard. Her cheeks were warm, and the edges of everything had softened, like the world had been lightly smudged. She’d told Glimmer she was just going out for air, but that was twenty minutes ago. Maybe more.

The drink in her hand was sweet and slightly gross. Something neon Glimmer mixed for her earlier. It didn’t matter. She kind of liked the way it buzzed in her chest. Her hoodie hung off one shoulder, her braid slightly unraveled. She didn’t care.

She just wanted to feel good for once. Feel *light*.

And then—movement.

The sound of feet scuffing over wood, a low “Shhh!” followed by a hissed laugh.

Adora turned.

Three figures were hauling themselves over the backyard fence like it was nothing. One hit the ground with a thud—big, loud, definitely Scorpia. Another rolled down smoothly (Lonnie, she guessed, from the skateboard clattering behind her). The third didn’t stumble at all. Just landed, light and quiet.

Catra.

They froze when they saw her.

Adora blinked. “You’re not… uh… invited.”

Catra tilted her head. “Neither were you, probably.”

Adora snorted, sipping from her drink. “I was. Technically.”

Lonnie gave Catra a look. “We going in or what?”

“In a minute,” Catra said without looking away from Adora.

Scorpia whispered something and Lonnie sighed, tugging her inside through the back door.

And then it was just the two of them.

Adora wasn’t sure how that had happened, but she wasn’t moving. Neither was Catra.

“I know you,” Adora said, voice a little loose.

Catra raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Adora pointed her cup at her. “You’re the girl who hangs around the train tracks. With the art. And the skateboards.”

Catra’s expression didn’t change. “That could be anyone.”

“It’s you.”

Catra walked closer, slow, hands in the pockets of her flannel. “You don’t know me.”

“I’d like to,” Adora said, immediately regretting how that sounded out loud.

Catra stopped in front of her, not quite smiling, not quite serious. The porch light cast half her face in gold, the other in shadow.

“You’re drunk,” Catra said.

Adora shrugged. “A little.”

Silence stretched between them. The house roared behind them—music, laughter, shouting—but none of it touched this moment.

Then Catra leaned in slightly. “Wanna disappear?”

Adora’s breath caught. “What?”

Catra jerked her chin toward the door. “Come on.”

She stepped back, slipping through the open back door, and Adora followed—like gravity.

They moved through the party like ghosts. Everyone else was too wrapped up in their own world to notice them pass. Catra didn’t speak, just walked ahead, glancing back once to make sure Adora was still there.

Upstairs was quieter. Dim. Just a few coats on a bed, a door half-open to a bathroom, muffled music from below.

Catra led her into one of the bedrooms.

The door clicked shut behind them.

It was someone’s guest room—too clean, untouched. String lights draped over the headboard, a Polaroid wall beside the mirror. Catra didn’t touch anything. She just leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, watching Adora carefully.

Adora stood in the middle of the room, heart thudding. Her cup was almost empty. Her thoughts were loud.

“So,” she said, clearing her throat. “You always break into parties?”

“No,” Catra said. “I usually avoid them.”

“Why’d you come tonight?”

Catra shrugged. “Felt like it. Figured there might be something worth seeing.”

Adora laughed softly. “And? Is there?”

Catra’s eyes stayed on her. “Maybe.”

The silence stretched again, but this one wasn’t uncomfortable. It was electric.

Adora stepped closer, just a little. “What are we doing up here?”

Catra tilted her head. “That’s up to you, Captain.”

Adora wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or something deeper, but she didn’t want to go back downstairs. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time.

She just wanted to stay in this room—with someone who didn’t expect anything from her, someone who looked at her like she was *just* a girl, not a team, not a school, not a reputation.

Just Adora.

The music downstairs faded into a hum, like a reminder they were somewhere else—somewhere they weren’t supposed to be.

Catra hadn't moved. She was still leaned up against the dresser, eyes steady, unreadable. Like she was waiting to see what Adora would do first.

Adora sat down on the edge of the bed.

She wasn’t sure why she felt so lightheaded. Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the way Catra looked at her—half-challenge, half-invitation.

She leaned back slightly, propped on her hands. “So… now what?”

Catra raised one shoulder in a slow shrug. “You’re the one who followed me.”

Adora laughed. “Okay, true.”

Catra finally moved, stepping away from the dresser. She walked slowly, like she was giving Adora time to change her mind. When she reached the bed, she sat beside her—but not too close. Just enough that Adora could feel the heat of her through the space between them.

Adora looked down at her hands. Her fingers were still faintly stained pink from that dumb party drink. “I’m probably gonna regret drinking that.”

Catra huffed a quiet laugh. “You didn’t seem to regret anything ten minutes ago.”

“That was different,” Adora said. She looked over at her. “This feels… real.”

Catra met her eyes. “It is.”

The room held its breath.

Adora looked at her—really looked. The way her dark eyeliner smudged just slightly under her eyes. The chipped nail polish. The lazy confidence she carried like a second skin. And beneath all that… something quiet. Something cautious.

“What’s your name?” Adora asked, realizing she still hadn’t heard it.

Catra smirked. “You first.”

“I told you mine already.”

“Yeah,” Catra said, “but I wanna hear you say it again.”

Adora blinked. “Why?”

Catra shrugged, softer this time. “I like the way it sounds when you say it.”

Adora’s throat tightened. She looked away for a second, because it was too much. Then she whispered, “Adora.”

A pause.

“Catra,” the other girl said finally. “My name’s Catra.”

Adora said it once in her head. Then again, quieter. It fit.

Neither of them spoke after that. Not for a while.

They just sat there in the low light. Shoulder to shoulder, almost. The tension wasn’t sharp anymore—it had mellowed into something quieter. Something that curled around them like warmth.

Catra leaned back on her palms and looked up at the ceiling.

“I don’t do this,” she said quietly.

Adora tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Let people see me. Talk like this. Stay in rooms that smell like vanilla candles and fake memories.”

Adora laughed once, nose wrinkling. “God, it *does* smell like vanilla in here.”

Catra smiled faintly but didn’t look away from the ceiling.

“I usually come and go,” she said. “Hit a roof, hit a wall, disappear. People see what I want them to see.”

Adora looked at her. “So why are you still here?”

Catra finally met her eyes again.

“I don’t know.”

Adora swallowed. She wanted to say something else, something clever or brave or meaningful. But her mind was fuzzy, and her heart was louder than her thoughts.

So she just leaned her head against Catra’s shoulder.

Slow. Careful.

Catra didn’t flinch.

She didn’t say anything, either. Just let her stay there.

And in a room that didn’t belong to either of them, surrounded by photos of strangers and the distant thud of bass, they sat in silence. Closer than they should’ve been. Not close enough.

Catra’s shoulder was surprisingly solid beneath her head. Warm. Real. The kind of real Adora hadn’t felt in a while—not from teammates or classmates or even Glimmer and Bow, who loved her in the safe, predictable way friends were supposed to.

This was something else.

Something that buzzed beneath her skin, soft and electric.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but eventually Catra shifted just slightly. Not away—closer.

Her hand brushed Adora’s on the blanket.

Neither of them moved at first.

Then Adora turned her hand over, let their fingers graze.

Catra’s pinky curled around hers.

The air in the room got heavier.

Adora sat up slowly, her face now inches from Catra’s. Her cheeks were flushed—whether from the drink or Catra or both, she wasn’t sure.

Catra didn’t pull away.

She just looked at her.

No smirk. No teasing.

Just… waiting.

Adora licked her lips. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

“With a girl?” Catra asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Adora nodded.

Catra reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Adora’s ear.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she said softly. “We don’t even have to kiss.”

Adora’s breath hitched. “But I want to.”

And she meant it.

Everything in her wanted to.

So slowly—nervously—she leaned forward. Catra met her halfway.

Their lips brushed once.

Then again, deeper.

And suddenly—

Catra pushed Adora into the mattress, and placed her extended arms on either side of Adora’s head. They were still making out, yet this time Adora became lustful. She needed more.

Her hands slid to Catra’s belt, and it was swiftly unbuckled.

Catra whispered against her mouth, “Not yet.”

Clothes didn't come off, but Catra grinded herself against Adora, soft at first, then rougher.

The sound of breathing, heavy, **close**, not quite quiet moans.

---

When it was over—whatever “it” was—they just lay there. Not saying much. The lights from the street spilled through the curtains and painted silver lines on the carpet.

Adora’s hand was still on Catra’s chest, just above her heart. She could feel it beating. Fast, steady.

Catra didn’t say anything right away.

But her fingers brushed lightly over the back of Adora’s hand.

Like she didn’t want her to go.

Like maybe she didn’t want to go either.

Adora closed her eyes and smiled.

Whatever this was—it wasn’t simple.

But it was real.

“What was that..?”

Catra’s brows lifted with satisfaction as she stared into the curling.

“Not much, but it’s a glance of what will come.”

What did that mean?

Adora felt the mattress moving, and sure enough Catra had lifted herself off of it.

“I’ll see you around.”

Chapter Text

Catra

She didn’t even like sports.

She was only here because Lonnie had dragged her out of the house with promises of “something to do” and a snack run after.

Now she was sat on hard metal bleachers in a hoodie two sizes too big, sipping a Sprite, sunglasses low on her nose, watching other people run around a field like their lives depended on it.

Lonnie was locked in, yelling “Yo!” at random intervals like it meant something, and Kyle kept nervously glancing at a boy in the crowd who hadn’t even looked back once. Scorpia was loudly trying to figure out the rules. Catra? Catra was thinking about leaving.

Until she saw her.

Midfield. Blond hair, jersey clinging to her like it was made for her. Aggressive, focused, fast. She didn’t have to squint to recognize her.

Adora.

Her stomach twisted without warning.

And like she felt it—like something shifted—Adora turned.

Right toward her.

Their eyes met.

Catra froze.

Adora’s face cracked into a stunned smile. Not smug. Not cocky. Just warm.

Catra blinked, heart thudding, and turned away immediately, yanking her hoodie up like it would erase her from view.

“Yo, you good?” Lonnie asked, noticing her fidget.

“I’m leaving.”

“What? Why?”

“I hate sports.”

“But—”

But Catra was already walking down the bleachers, ears burning. She didn’t want to be seen. She didn’t want Adora to smile at her like that. Like she’d been waiting to.

Like she knew her.

Adora

“She ran away, Glimmer,” Adora said, dropping onto the bench beside her best friend at lunch. “She looked me dead in the face and left.”

Glimmer snorted into her iced coffee. “Oh my god, she’s a runner.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m sorry. It’s a little funny.”

Adora groaned and put her head in her hands. “Why do I even care this much? It was one night. I don’t even know her.”

“Do you want to?”

Adora hesitated.

That silence was loud enough for Glimmer to pounce.

“You do.”

Adora looked away, annoyed at how easy she was to read. “She’s cool. Mysterious. Whatever. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Don’t act like you don’t hate her.”

Glimmer shrugged, sipping her drink. “I don’t hate her. I just don’t know her. She never talks to anyone.”

“She talked to me.”

Glimmer raised a brow. “Exactly. You’re her little exception.”

Adora frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Glimmer leaned in. “You like her.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re panicking, so yes, you did.”

Adora shoved her, but she was smiling—barely.

What she didn’t notice—what she couldn’t have known—was that Glimmer had already told someone.

And that someone had told two more people.

And by the time the bell rang for last period, half the school already knew.

Bow

He found her at her locker.

“Hey,” he said, careful.

Adora turned. “What’s up?”

Bow hesitated. “Are you okay?”

“Uh… yeah? Why?”

He shifted his backpack nervously. “It’s just—I mean, if you ever wanna talk, I’m here, okay?”

Adora blinked. “Bow. What are you talking about?”

Bow’s face dropped.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

He swallowed. “People are saying stuff. That you… that you’re gay.”

The hallway spun.

“What?”

“I—I just thought you already knew. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Adora slammed her locker shut.

“Who told them?”

Bow opened his mouth, hesitating.

“Who?”

“…Glimmer.”

The words hit harder than they should’ve.

Adora backed away. “Thanks.”

“Adora, wait—”

But she was already walking, ears ringing, jaw clenched, heart screaming.

Not because people knew.

But because Glimmer had told.

And Catra would hear.

Chapter Text

Catra

She heard it before first period.

In the girls’ bathroom, one of the freshmen was reapplying lip gloss and said it casually, like it wasn’t about to set fire to every thought in Catra’s brain.

“Apparently Adora’s gay. Didn’t she hook up with some girl at that party?”

Catra froze in the stall.

She barely breathed.

“Oh my god,” the other girl giggled. “Who was it? Do we know her?”

“Some random. Probably someone from out of town. I dunno.”

“Maybe it was that girl,” the first one said. “The weird one who always wears hoodies. I think her name’s Clara or something.”

Catra clenched her jaw.

The door creaked as the girls left.

She waited until she was sure the bathroom was empty before stepping out and staring at herself in the mirror. Her hoodie was pulled over her head. Her eyes were bloodshot. She looked like someone who did something wrong.

She splashed cold water on her face.

Then she left without saying a word.

Adora

“Don’t be mad,” Glimmer said before Adora even got a chance to speak.

“Oh, I’m mad.”

“I didn’t mean for it to get out like that—”

“But you still told someone.”

“I thought you’d already told people! You were acting so chill about everything, I figured—”

“I’m not out, Glimmer!” Adora snapped. “You don’t get to decide when I am.”

Glimmer flinched.

Adora immediately regretted it.

She sighed, softer. “You’re my best friend. I trusted you.”

“I know,” Glimmer said quietly. “I screwed up.”

Adora nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yeah. You did.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Glimmer spoke again.

“Did you at least mean it? The… the stuff with Catra?”

Adora didn’t look at her.

“I don’t know,” she said.

Catra

She skipped the rest of the day.

She wasn’t about to stick around and wait for someone to figure it out. She wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of staring at her in the halls or whispering behind her back or asking if it was true.

Instead, she found herself at the top of the old train bridge, lying on her back, hoodie pulled over her face, trying to breathe through the static in her chest.

Her phone buzzed.

A message from Scorpia:

> “Where r u??? Lonnie says ppl talking abt that girl u kissed???”

Another from Lonnie:

> “is it true? that it was her?”

She turned the phone over so the screen faced the dirt.

Then it buzzed again.

This time, a name she didn’t expect.

Adora:
> “can we talk?”

Catra stared at it.

She didn’t reply.

But she didn’t delete it either.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 — Walls

Adora

She couldn’t focus.

Every classroom felt smaller than the last. Every whisper sounded like it had her name in it. Every glance felt sharper than it used to.

By sixth period, she wasn’t even pretending to take notes anymore.

People didn’t *say* anything outright. That’s what made it worse. Just the look on their faces — smug, curious, pitying.

She hated pity the most.

After school, she made it to the field just to sit. She didn’t even have practice — she just needed air. Her legs bounced restlessly under her.

The gate creaked behind her. She turned, already expecting Glimmer, but—

Catra.

Hands in her hoodie pocket. Hair windblown and messy. Her expression unreadable.

Adora stood slowly. “Hey.”

Catra didn’t move closer. “Heard you’re famous now.”

Adora flinched. “Did you think I told people?”

“I don’t care if you did.”

Adora frowned. “You don’t care?”

Catra shrugged. “Not like it was a big deal, right? Just a drunk night.”

That stung more than it should have. Adora’s voice cracked. “You don’t mean that.”

Catra looked away, jaw clenched. “I don’t know what I mean.”

They stood in silence. Wind picking up. The sky behind them bleeding into early evening.

Adora took a shaky breath. “You made me feel like it wasn’t just a moment. And now I’m the one paying for it.”

Catra’s eyes flicked to hers, something wild behind them. “You’re the one paying for it? You’re the golden girl. You’ll survive this. I’m just some freak with spray paint and no future.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

Adora stepped forward, but Catra stepped back. “Don’t.”

And then she left, again, without giving Adora the ending she needed.

Catra

She sat on the rooftop of Rogelio’s building, legs swinging off the edge, listening to the buzz of traffic and sirens in the distance.

She lit a cigarette she wouldn’t finish.

Rogelio sat beside her, silent as ever, offering the space but not the pressure. That’s why she liked him.

She didn’t tell him what happened. She didn’t have to.

He passed her a Sharpie from his hoodie pocket and nodded toward the water tower.

She stood, climbed higher, and wrote her name where no one could see it but the stars.

Chapter Text

Adora

The field was empty.

The bleachers were half-lit by the flickering floodlights, and the air carried that late-summer heaviness — like the whole world was waiting to explode.

Adora didn’t know why she came here. Practice had ended hours ago. But something in her chest had been building all day, and she couldn’t sit still anymore.

She kicked a ball lazily at the net. It bounced off the post and rolled back, untouched.

Her phone buzzed.

bow 🏹:
> you okay?

She stared at the screen, thumbs hovering. Then locked it again.

No. She wasn’t okay.

She was unraveling.

The hallway whispers. The stares. The assumptions.

She didn’t even know who she was — not fully — and now everyone thought they did.

All because of one night. One moment. One girl.

Catra.

The name made something twist in her gut. Anger, longing, something hotter and messier than either.

She sat on the grass and let the silence swallow her.

It didn’t help.

Catra

Kyle was rambling about a pop-up thrift stall downtown, but Catra wasn’t listening.

They were loitering outside Lonnie’s house, skateboards resting against the curb, the sky golden behind the trees.

Catra was drawing again — loose, messy sketches in her notebook. Nothing serious. Just shapes that could be turned into something later.

“Yo,” Lonnie said, stepping outside and tossing a can of Arizona Iced Tea at her. “You good?”

Catra caught it. “Yeah.”

“She’s lying,” Kyle added unhelpfully.

Catra shot him a look, but she didn’t deny it.

Lonnie sat on the porch railing. “Adora?”

Catra didn’t answer.

Kyle, ever the overthinker, said softly, “People talk, but it’ll die down.”

Catra snorted. “Not for her.”

“She’s tough,” Lonnie said.

“She’s not the one getting called a slur every time she walks by the vending machines.”

That silenced them.

“She tried to talk to me,” Catra admitted after a moment. “At the park.”

Lonnie raised a brow. “And?”

“I left.”

Lonnie didn’t press, but the look in her eyes said enough.

Catra cracked open the tea. “I don’t do feelings, okay?”

Kyle muttered, “That’s what people say right before they start doing feelings.”

Catra ignored him and looked up at the sunburnt sky.

She didn’t know what she wanted.

But she knew she wasn’t done with Adora.

Adora

The next morning, Bow found her leaning against her locker, head low.

“Hey,” he said gently.

She didn’t look up. “Hi.”

“I heard what Glimmer said.”

Adora’s breath caught. “So it’s true. She—”

“She didn’t mean to out you. She just… said things. People filled in the blanks.”

Adora closed her eyes.

Bow rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m really sorry.”

She didn’t say anything.

He squeezed her shoulder once, and walked away.

She finally opened her locker. A folded scrap of paper fluttered out.

No name. No handwriting she recognized.

She opened it.

> "They don’t know you. Not like I do."
> —C

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

It was messy. Vague. Nothing certain.

But it was something.

Chapter Text

Catra

She didn’t leave the note expecting anything.

She hadn’t even meant to write it. It just kind of happened — half a thought scrawled on the back of an old test paper while lying on her stomach in her room, the ceiling fan spinning lazily above her.

Maybe it was stupid. Probably was.

She slipped it into Adora’s locker the next morning when no one was around. Her hands shook. She didn’t let herself think about why.

Now she sat in the back of math class, chin in her hand, pretending to listen while the numbers on the board blurred together.

Adora hadn’t looked at her all day.

She hadn’t looked away either.

Every time their eyes met across a hallway or a classroom, it was like a static charge ran through Catra’s spine. She’d break it first. She always did.

But Adora wasn’t ignoring her.

That scared her more.

Rogelio passed her a folded gum wrapper with a badly drawn cat face on it. She smirked.

When the bell rang, she didn’t wait to be dismissed.

She just needed air.

Adora

The note burned a hole in her backpack.

She’d read it five times. Ten. Twenty.

“They don’t know you. Not like I do.”

She couldn’t stop hearing it in Catra’s voice — rough, low, like a secret passed in the dark.

Glimmer hadn’t spoken to her since Bow intervened. Part of Adora wanted to confront her, to scream. But the bigger part… didn’t want to deal.

She was tired. Tired of feeling like a spectacle.

After school, she didn’t go home.

She found herself at the bleachers again, watching the sunset bleed over the field.

Someone walked up behind her. Quiet footsteps. Familiar ones.

She turned.

Catra stood a few steps away, hood up, eyes unreadable.

“You got it,” Catra said.

Adora nodded slowly. “I did.”

They stood in silence. A breeze lifted the edge of Catra’s hoodie.

Adora finally said, “Do you want to talk?”

Catra shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d say.”

“I don’t either.”

A pause.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Adora said quietly. “Not a single person.”

“I know.”

They locked eyes.

Catra looked like she was about to say something. Her lips parted.

Then—“Do you wanna go somewhere?”

Adora blinked. “Now?”

Catra nodded once. “Yeah.”

Adora hesitated for a second. Then grabbed her bag and stood.

“Okay.”

They walked side by side, not touching, not speaking. The streets turned gold and then purple with the fading light.

Catra led her toward the edge of town. Toward the train tracks.

Adora had never been there after dark. But she followed without question.

They climbed a slope behind the warehouse where Catra had tagged before — her name painted in bright pink and orange.

This time, there was no spray paint. No crew. Just them.

They sat on the metal platform above the tracks. The world felt far away.

Adora leaned back on her palms. “Why did you bring me here?”

Catra stared at the sky. “I come here when I can’t think straight.”

Adora smiled faintly. “Fitting.”

They both laughed — quiet, tired.

Catra glanced at her. “Do you regret it?”

Adora didn’t pretend not to know what she meant.

“No.”

Silence again. A train rumbled in the distance, faint and far.

Catra finally said, “I’m scared.”

Adora looked at her. “Me too.”

Catra exhaled, and this time, she didn’t look away.

Chapter Text

Adora

It had been a week since the train tracks.

Since Catra had leaned against her, silent but real, warm beside her in the orange light. Since she'd said she was scared, too.

And then... nothing.

No texts. No visits. Not even a look in the hallway.

Adora didn’t expect a fairy tale. But she expected something. Anything. A nod in the courtyard. A shove on the shoulder. Some sarcastic comment from the bleachers.

She scanned the crowd during every lunch, every free period, as if Catra might materialize beside her again.

“Still nothing?” Bow asked, peeling the label off his water bottle.

Adora shook her head.

Glimmer leaned forward. “That’s such BS. You have one emotionally charged rooftop moment and then she ghosts you? No. Not allowed.”

“It wasn’t a rooftop,” Adora muttered.

“Whatever,” Glimmer said. “It’s metaphorical.”

Bow tried to soften the mood. “Maybe she’s just processing.”

“She doesn’t *process*, Bow. She *runs*,” Adora said. Then quieter: “She always runs.”

Catra

She saw Adora in the courtyard, sitting with her friends. Glimmer was laughing too loudly. Bow looked concerned in his quiet little way. And Adora—

Catra couldn’t look directly at her for long.

She’d spent the past week skating until her legs ached and tagging rooftops she had no business reaching. Every time she touched concrete, it was to avoid thinking about the way Adora’s voice cracked when she said *You don’t mean that.*

Every night since the train tracks, she'd laid awake, staring at her ceiling, heart beating like she'd run ten miles. That moment had been real.

Too real.

And real meant risk.

Rogelio had noticed her slipping away. He offered her a half-vape and a ride to the riverbank on Tuesday. She said no to both.

She couldn’t even tell Scorpia. Scorpia would start planning their wedding or something.

So instead she skated, until her board cracked on Thursday when she landed wrong off a bench in front of the library.

It was a dumb metaphor, but she felt cracked too.

Adora

Friday morning came with rain.

The field was soaked, practice canceled, and Adora sat alone in the locker room long after everyone else had gone home. Her cleats were muddy. Her socks were wet. And she felt like crying for no reason.

That’s when she heard it. The door creaked open. Footsteps. Someone quiet. Someone trying not to be noticed.

She turned.

Catra stood there, hoodie pulled tight, raindrops on her lashes.

They stared at each other.

No one said anything for a long time.

Adora was the first to move. She stood slowly, her hand brushing the locker beside her. “You’re here.”

Catra shrugged. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t think you would be.”

“I didn’t think I would either.”

Adora swallowed. “So... what now?”

Catra looked down. “I broke my board.”

Adora blinked. “What?”

“My board,” Catra repeated. “Landed wrong. Cracked it in half.”

“…That sucks.”

Catra nodded. “Yeah.”

Beat. Beat. Beat.

Then—

“I missed you,” Adora said.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. But it landed like thunder between them.

Catra exhaled, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “Yeah. Same.”

Catra

She didn’t know what she was doing. She never did.

But she took a step closer.

Then another.

And Adora didn’t move away.

---

Chapter Text

Catra

She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

Adora looked so damn open. Like she always did. Big blue eyes, hopeful even when she was hurt. Standing there in her cleats and soaked socks, looking at Catra like she was the answer to something.

Catra wanted to run. She always wanted to run.

But she didn’t.

Not this time.

Instead, she leaned against the locker next to Adora’s, arms crossed like armor. “Why are you still trying with me?”

Adora blinked. “What?”

“I’ve ghosted you like three times. I’ve been a dick. And you’re still here, acting like I’m not a mess.”

“You are a mess,” Adora said gently. “But so am I.”

That made Catra snort, a breath of a laugh through her nose. “Not like me, you’re not.”

“You don’t get to decide how I feel about you.”

The words hit hard. Catra turned her face away.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted. “Whatever this is.”

Adora stepped closer. “Neither do I.”

Catra could feel the space between them shrink — magnetic, dangerous.

Her voice was quieter now. “If I do this… if we do this… you don’t get to leave first.”

Adora’s brows knit. “I wouldn’t.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Silence. And then:

Catra reached for Adora’s hand — not grabbing it, not lacing their fingers, just *reaching*. Hovering close.

Adora met her halfway.

And just like that, the tension cracked. A wave breaking. They pulled each other in like they were both drowning.

Their lips met.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was clumsy and hot and *hungry*, like weeks of tension had been packed into a single moment.

Adora's hands curled in Catra’s hoodie.

Catra’s fingers tangled in Adora’s damp ponytail.

One of them whispered something — maybe “finally,” maybe nothing at all.

Adora

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that.

Long enough for the air to get warmer. For the rain outside to fade.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless.

Catra’s lipstick was smudged. Adora didn’t even remember her putting any on.

“Shit,” Catra muttered. “I wasn’t supposed to do that.”

Adora gave a shaky laugh. “Well. You did.”

Another beat passed.

“You wanna come over?” Adora asked. “Shower. Eat. Maybe talk like normal people?”

Catra gave her a look. “We’re not normal people.”

“Okay. Then we’ll eat like gay disasters.”

That got a real laugh out of her. “Fine. But I’m not staying late.”

She did.

---

Chapter Text

Adora

The smell of waffles and wet clothes filled the air.

Catra was sitting cross-legged on Adora’s bedroom floor, hair damp, wrapped in an oversized Brightmoon Soccer hoodie like she hadn’t just stolen it off the laundry chair. She picked at the edge of the plate on her lap, not quite eating, not quite talking.

Adora watched from the bed, chin resting on her knees.

Last night had felt like a high. A dream she didn’t want to wake up from.

This morning?

Complicated.

“So…” Adora started, breaking the quiet. “You planning on ghosting me again?”

Catra didn’t look up. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You slept over.”

“Your fault. You made toast at 2 a.m. I was emotionally manipulated.”

Adora smiled. “You were clinging to me like a koala. Don’t act like you weren’t into it.”

Catra blushed and shoved a piece of waffle into her mouth to avoid answering. Adora let it sit for a second — this weird, comfortable silence that felt like more than it should.

But she had to ask.

“Does this… mean something? To you?”

Catra’s shoulders stiffened. She set the plate down and wiped her hands on her hoodie. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know how to *do* this, Adora.”

“I’m not asking you to marry me.”

“I know, I just—” Catra exhaled sharply. “I’ve never… been this close to someone who made me feel like this. It’s terrifying.”

Adora slid off the bed and onto the floor beside her. “I’m scared too. But I want this. I want *you*.”

Catra didn’t reply, but she didn’t pull away either.

Their pinkies brushed.

That was enough.

Catra

By the time she got home, reality hit.

She was back in her bedroom, the one with paint peeling off the window frame and old posters barely hanging on. The hoodie still smelled like Adora. Her phone buzzed.

sparkles
>saw you leaving with adora last night. 👀 is this what i think it is???

She didn’t reply.

Another buzz.

lonnie
>girl. tell me this isn’t the soccer girl.

Catra shoved her phone under a pillow and lay back, eyes on the ceiling.

It wasn’t a secret anymore.

And if she wasn’t careful, it was going to blow up in both their faces.

---

Chapter Text

Adora

The hallways felt louder than usual.

Backpacks bumped into each other. Laughter echoed too sharply. Every slammed locker was a gunshot to Adora’s nerves.

She kept her head down as she moved through the crowd, hoodie up, earbuds in with no music playing — just a wall between her and everyone else.

Last night hadn’t left her mind.

Catra curled up in her bed, soft snores and sharp edges. The way her fingers had lingered when she passed the syrup at breakfast. The hoodie she stole without asking.

Adora wanted to keep it all to herself.

She couldn’t.

Because now Glimmer was texting nonstop.

>Are you SERIOUS?? You’re with her??

>You told me you didn’t even LIKE her!!

>Do you trust me or not???”

She hadn’t replied.

She couldn’t.

Glimmer meant well, but her mouth moved faster than her sense of loyalty. Adora knew if she responded while still buzzing from Catra, she'd say something she couldn’t unsay.

She turned the corner and ran straight into Bow.

“Whoa—hey,” he said, catching her by the shoulders. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Adora lied.

He studied her. “You sure? You look like you haven’t slept.”

“I didn’t.”

“Was it… her?”

Adora didn’t answer.

Bow didn’t push. “You know, you don’t have to figure everything out right now.”

Adora nodded.

He patted her shoulder and kept walking.

She didn’t move for a second.

Then her phone buzzed.

[Catra]:
> Meet me at the tracks after school?
> Alone.

Adora stared at the message.

Typed. Deleted. Typed again.

Finally, she sent:
> “I’ll be there.”

And somehow, that made the rest of the day a little easier.

Catra

She waited at the tracks, hood up, knees pulled to her chest.

This place used to be hers — her escape, her hideout. Now it was theirs. Every piece of chipped paint and concrete noise echoed with her.

When Adora finally arrived, Catra didn’t look up. Just muttered, “You came.”

Adora sat beside her. “I always will.”

Catra snorted softly. “Cheesy.”

“Yeah,” Adora said. “But true.”

Silence.

Then, Catra: “People are talking again.”

“I know.”

“They know about us.”

Adora swallowed. “Do you want them to?”

Catra looked at her, eyes tired. “I don’t want to hide. But I don’t want to be hunted either.”

Adora’s hand reached for hers — slow, deliberate.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said.

Catra didn’t pull away.

And for the first time in days, the silence between them wasn’t heavy.

It was safe.

---