With the clouds of war rapidly subsiding, new horizons dart just out of view. A post-war story about young adults finding their footing in an entirely new world and deciding how they would like to mould it. Featuring families born from difficult sit...
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Adora tugged the tie out of her hair. It swayed as it fell over her shoulders, lightly brushing her skin through her white tank top. The day had been so fast-paced, and now she just felt sunken and sober. Grabbing her brush, she combed methodically through the strands. The sense of finality hung in the air. It was twilight, she could tell from the window in the bathroom. The first twilight since everything she had worked for - or against - all her life was over. It was like the walls were silently crumbling around her, mounds of grey concrete, bricks and drywall matting the ground. Adora knew she would feel lost for a long time after tonight.
Still, beyond the walls was something new - sweeter, freer, real. Sweeter, like Thaymor's bright festivals and community obscured by thickets of trees. Real, like the short, soft strands of Catra's hair. Free because the only responsibility now was playing a part in rebuilding the world. Adora had never been good at seeing herself past how she could be of use to others, but in this new world, maybe she could learn to.
With a deep breath, she pushed open the white bathroom door into her bedroom. The rich purples and blues and pinks still shocked her after all this time - the sharp contrast from the Horde's greys and reds. In the furthermost corner was a woman with short, cropped brown hair and tanned brown skin facing a mirror atop a mahogany dresser. She was wearing her red armour-like top that clung to her skin. Slowly, she reached back to unclasp her shirt in the dull yellow light of the single-lit lantern. Adora flushed, carefully looking away from the bare skin of her back in favour of inspecting her nails.
"Hey, Adora," she said, peering at her through the mirror. The mischievous edge to her voice felt familiar. Like home. There was something else there, too. Maybe it had always been there and she'd been too afraid to look.
"Catra," Adora responded softly.
Catra had tugged on a black tank top while Adora was determinedly looking away and now something in her eyes looked so inviting and Adora had been waiting for this moment all her life. So who could blame her for walking to the other side of the room and sliding on top of the dresser so eagerly? She hooked her leg onto Catra's so the inside of her leg was touching hers.
"Your hair looks nice when it's down," Catra intoned.
It felt intimate, somehow. Watching her get ready for bed with a slight smile reminded her of what used to be. Nights spent having whispered conversations under the red canopy of their tight-sprung beds in the Horde, brushing their teeth in the cramped bathrooms, hips touching. Maybe here, they would develop new routines. It was beautiful somehow, the way they chose each other and over again. Red and black, purple and blue.
Adora wondered what it would be like to live in Bright Moon, not under the guise of war. Death and destruction had been a blinding factor in their lives. For the princesses, it would be simple. They would go on ruling their kingdoms, and Adora would go on being a leader in the kingdoms as they recovered from the devastation of Horde Prime. Bow would work on rebuilding their world as part of the Princess Alliance. Adora hoped Catra would want to live in Bright Moon, too, with Bow and Glimmer. It was all so overwhelming. Adora didn't want to think about the future tonight, she decided. She just wanted to relish in this night. The perfect evening.
