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 was slicking the quiff of her ponytail with a blue-tinted gel when she heard the crash outside. She opened the window, sticking her face into the always-cold air of Bright Moon's towers.
"Catra?"
Outside her window is the tell-tale sign that her girlfriend is near - her tail hangs into view, the rest of her hidden. The steep scales of the tower and the sharp drop to the ground would worry her, but she knows Catra is more than capable of keeping herself afloat. Adora leans forward further until Catra comes into view. Her face looks troubled - the half of it that isn't pressed into her knees.
"Catra, Scorpia forgives you. We already told her we're coming. This is our last chance to see the Horde as it was before Scorpia completely redesigns her kingdom, anyways. It'll be..." Adora stops before she says something along the lines of "fun" or "enjoyable". Returning to the Horde will bring almost as many bad memories as good ones. "Nostalgic."
Catra rolls her eyes like she knows what Adora was about to say. "I hope she knows where Lonnie, Kyle and Rogelio are. It'll be nice to see her anyway."
Adora reaches out for Catra's hand, and in a blink, Catra is inside their bathroom.
"How did you get up there without me noticing?" Adora questions. She has a good eye for when Catra is wallowing in doubt.
"Bedroom window," Catra says with pride, dusting herself off. Today, as a peace offering, she is wearing a more subdued version of her normal clothes - a dustier orange instead of her usual red. Adora admires the effort. Catra knows what it is like to be left behind. Adora suspects she feels guilty for leaving Scorpia, too.
"We'd better get going. Glimmer insists we should bring a gift. Bow brought me this?" Adora lifted a black dress that shimmered navy blue as it swung in the air. "It looks like the one from that Princess Prom."
The suit Catra wore to Princess Prom flits into Adora's mind unbidden. Shaking her head, she reaches for her bag.
///
The opalescent doors slid open with a satisfying shink. The molten reds of the doors had Adora tugging at her red sleeves.
Beside her, Catra was doing the same thing. After careful deliberation, she ended up in her usual reds. A way of taking responsibility instead of pushing her actions aside. In these walls, she felt like Adora at seventeen, going on eighteen. Her posture slunk until she was shorter than Catra. Adora could feel her heartbeat in her toes. She knew that there was no one here that held power over her, no threats to her life, but she still gripped Catra's hand like a lifeline.
She tried to keep her breaths from becoming frantic. However, trying to keep her breathing level made it feel like the air was stuck in her throat, scraping at the sides and bloodying the walls in an attempt to exhale. Her lungs felt tight, her hands and legs shaking. Adora faintly wondered how she was still walking at all. Her sight was glassy. The only thing she could see were the floor's tiles. Suddenly, she realized, a laugh creeping up her throat, that she hadn't been walking for a while.
