Little Miss Imperfect (A Catradora fanfiction)

Chapter 3: Catra

TW: Mentions of self-harm, Strong Language, Mention of eating disorder

The sky is beautiful today, so clear and a brilliant shade of blue. A lot like Adora's eyes. It's on days like this, that I feel at peace. Beside the most radiant girl in the world; lying on our backs staring up at the clouds.

"Catra...there's something that I need to tell you." Those sky-blue eyes are filled with worry.

We sit up; dusting the grass off of our backs.

I rest my hand on top of hers. "Hey, it's okay. You can tell me anything. Nothing bad can happen as long as we have each other."

She flinches at the words. I lace her fingers with mine.

"Remember?" Tears well in her eyes; she unlaces our fingers and buries her face in her hands.

"Adora, what's wrong?" I feel so concerned...but so out of place. It's as if nothing I can do will help her. That's never happened before.

"Catra...I'm s-sorry but...I can't..." She trails off; her tears nearly choking her.

"You can't what, Adora?" She sniffles; slowly removing her hands. Her cheeks are rosy, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. And still...even with her silky hair tangled and her clothes a mess...she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"I can't be your friend anymore." My heart shatters. My soul rips at the seams; everything in me is bleeding. A loveless bloodbath.

"Catra, I'm sorry."
"Adora, why?" She shakes her head.

"I just can't Catra."

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

And then...then it hits me.

"Hah, it's because I don't fit in...right? I'm just a road-block in your perfect little life." Adora stays silent; running a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry." Is all she says before I storm off and leave the meadow.

I learned two things that day.

One, don't ever get attached to somebody. Love is a hoax. Nothing more than a cruel joke.

And two, never trust a day where the sky is clear and as blue as the eyes of the girl that left.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

I bolt straight up. Why? Why of all days did that memory have to be in my dreams?

I groan and rub my eyes; taking in the sight of my incredibly disorganized room.

"Ugh." I throw the covers off of my lap and make my way downstairs; pulling out the ingredients for a Banana-Honey milkshake.

I take a peek out of the window above the sink and let out a breath of relief when I notice my mom's car gone.

Yesterday...took me by surprise. Since I was 8, I've learned not to trust my mother. Not with your secrets, not with your grades, not with your sexuality, and certainly not with your heart.

Because when she leaves? Well, she doesn't want to come back. It's always by force. When she doesn't have anywhere besides the streets to go. When she runs out of alcohol. When she needs somebody to take her anger out on.

She always comes back...but not for me. I'm the thing that she wants to avoid at all costs.

A familiar feeling fills my chest; clenches around my heart, holding the organ firmly in its grasp.