CW: brief discussion of past abuse

“Mocha for Adora?”

Scorpia’s order calls always sounded like questions. They came across like she was second-guessing herself—her own authority, her volume, her job—and even without looking up from the shot she was pulling, Catra knew the look on her colleague’s face: brows furrowed in uncertainty, lips just slightly parted, eyes ever so slightly glazed over. There certainly wasn’t any command in her tone, nor any confidence.

Catra kept her eyes fixed on the thermometer, her hand poised to twist the steam tap off the moment the little red line shot past 140. Either side of her, her colleagues chatted happily with (or at, in Entrapta’s case) customers. She hadn’t quite learned to tune them both out completely, and their enthusiasm was grating.

It was, of course, the busy peak of an otherwise easy shift, and thankfully it was almost over. Hordak’s central location in Brightmoon made it an easy choice for the hordes of professionals and students who needed a dose of caffeine before their 9am starts. Catra couldn’t blame them—she had gotten into the habit of making herself a triple as she slouched in to open the shop at 7—but she couldn’t help the mutinous thoughts that maybe her life would be easier if they opened another Starbucks down the road to take some of the foot traffic.

Not that it would stop a lot of the regulars, or the hipsters who would show up to Hordak’s for the atmosphere or the authenticity, two factors that clearly justified higher prices for similarly mediocre coffee.

Catra sighed, passing the last order from the rush over to Scorpia, and took a moment to lean back against the counter behind her. To her right, Entrapta was perched on a stool, a GameBoy held tight in her hands as she frowned in concentration.

(“You still play that old thing?” Catra remembered asking her, once upon a time.

“It’s handy for work breaks,” she’d replied. “Fits in my purse, and I don’t have to worry about running out of charge like I would playing on my phone. Besides, I really like Pokémon.”)

The shop was mostly empty—most customers had places to be on a Monday morning—but a handful of people were scattered about the shop, scrolling their phones or typing away at laptops. Catra allowed herself a small smile as she looked around the shop, her eyes drifting from customer to customer. Mostly familiar faces, the regulars she’d come to recognise by name as well as face, but…

“Hey, Scorpia, who’s that? In the corner, blonde.”

Catra gestured vaguely towards a girl who was sitting at the window table, absent-mindedly tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear as her right hand brushed across a laptop keyboard. She looked around Catra’s age, maybe a year or so younger, and slung across the back of her chair was a faded red and white sports jacket. It was the jacket that piqued Catra’s interest: the bat-like winged insignia of her old high school’s softball team, the Imps, drew her eyes like moths to a flame.

“Oh, her?” Scorpia frowned. “I haven’t seen her before. I think her name was Adora?”

“Adora, huh?” The name wasn’t familiar, but Catra had hardly been a socialite at school, and it was hardly a time she thought about if she could avoid it. “Cute name.”

“Yeah,” Scorpia said, stifling a giggle. Catra looked up at Scorpia expectantly, her eyebrow raised but her stare flat as Scorpia’s mouth twisted in barely-contained glee. “It’s adorable.”

Catra pointedly ignored Scorpia for the rest of the shift.

---

It wasn’t long before Catra saw the blonde girl again: barely more than a day.

It was a quiet afternoon—Catra was lounging behind the counter, her elbows resting on the surface between the espresso machine and the till, watching Kyle tidy the mess that had been left on the tables by the departing lunch rush—when the tell-tale red and white Imps jacket in the doorway caught her eye.

“Hi.” This girl was bold, Catra would give her that, strolling right up to the counter even as she was still clearly reading the menu from over Catra’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Catra replied. “It’s Adora, right?”

Immediately the girl’s posture tensed. “Yeah. How do you know my name? I’ve literally only been here once before.”

“I have a good memory, and you were here yesterday. Besides, I was hardly going to forget you. Y’know…” Catra gestured ineffectually towards Adora’s jacket, and mimed waving little flags in the air. “Go Imps!” she added weakly, for good measure.

Adora visibly relaxed. “You went to Fright High?”

"Yeah." Catra nodded. “Graduated last year.”

“Nice. Honestly, wasn’t expecting to see anyone else from home up here in the big city. I think I’m the first person from Frightzone to get a scholarship to Brightmoon U in about a decade?” Adora grimaced and chuckled. “Principal Weaver said it was something like that.”

Catra fought down the urge to snark at that, and grit her teeth as the too-familiar anger in the pit of her stomach started to boil.

Frightzone was a small, run-down, industrial hellhole that was technically close to Brightmoon, though the national park that came between them cut off any direct routes. Catra had been itching to leave for years: on the day she graduated, she packed a bag of clothes, withdrew the little money she had from her savings account, and bought a one-way train ticket to Brightmoon without a second thought.

She hadn’t looked back since.

“It’s nice,” Adora said. “Knowing there’s someone from Frightzone here, I mean. Honestly, I’ve only been here a few weeks and I’m already feeling a bit homesick.”

Catra bit her tongue. “Adjusting to the city isn’t easy, but you’ll get used to it. What can I get you?”

“Oh!” Adora glanced back at the menu. “Can I get a mocha and a slice of shortbread? Eating in, please.”

“Sure. Grab a seat and I’ll call you over when it’s ready.”

Adora smiled, a bright grin that lit up her whole face. “Great! Thanks –” she glanced down at Catra’s chest, squinting at her nametag “– Catra?”

Catra nodded and watched as Adora walked over to the table by the window and pulled her laptop from her bag, before grabbing a clean mug and preparing a spoonful of espresso for the machine, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips.

It didn’t last long.

“You’re talkative today,” Kyle said as he brushed past her to drop a tray of dirty crockery by the sink, twisting the tap on. “Do you know her or something?”

“She went to my school,” Catra replied, looking up from the milk she was frothing. “And what do you mean, ‘today’? I’m always nice to customers.”

“Mhmm, sure.”

Catra sighed in exasperation, and picked up Adora’s order, carefully stepping around tables to reach the blonde.

“So what are you working on?” Catra asked as she set down her tray. “School work?”

“Yeah,” Adora replied. “I have this history essay due on Friday and my roommate isn’t the quietest. Figured I’d come out here to work on it.”

“Wouldn’t have figured you for the history type,” Catra said. Adora simply looked up at her with a smirk of challenge, and Catra quickly found herself backpedalling: “I– I mean, just, you looked like the sporty type, y’know? Being on the Imps, wearing the jacket…”

Catra trailed off as Adora dissolved into a fit of laughter. “You looked so scared!” she said, once she’d calmed down. “Like you were worried I was going to call the manager on you or something.”

“Please do,” Catra said, grinning back and pointing to her nametag. “I am the manager, it would be hilarious.”

“That says ‘Assistant Manager’,” Adora pointed out.

“That’s a type of manager!” Catra threw her hands up in frustration. “Why is everyone in this shop having a go at me today?”

“Because it’s fun?” Adora said, an innocent smile plastered across her face. “And your reactions are amusing.”

“Is that all I am to you?” Catra said, clutching at her heart, dramatically shooting Adora her very best hurt look. “You wound me, Adora. I thought we were friends.”

“Catra, we literally met five minutes ago.”

“Best friends.”

---

Catra wasn’t the sort of girl who did movies. Sure, she’d binge films and shows on Netflix at home on her days off, but going out to the cinema was something she tended to avoid. It was expensive, sticky, and you never knew how disruptive the audience would be—and, besides, she didn’t exactly have friends she could go with. Scorpia wasn’t particularly good with boundaries, even in their apartment (in a rare moment of vulnerability brought about by sheer frustration, Catra had to sit her down and explain why inviting Lonnie, Kyle and Rogelio over for a games night and making plans that assumed she would play with them was uncomfortable for her), and Entrapta was even more of a social recluse than her.

Though perhaps that assessment wasn’t quite accurate, since it was Entrapta who was dragging her out of the apartment for a movie night.

“Trust me, Catra, this movie is out of this world! It’s an absolute classic. It pioneered filmmaking techniques that are still in use today, even though it was produced over forty years ago! It’s –”

“Fascinating,” Catra drawled. “You’ve been saying. For days.”

“Absolutely!” Entrapta’s enthusiasm was rarely muted by setbacks. “It’s a masterpiece of cinematography, groundbreaking in its…”

Catra had learned to tune Entrapta out pretty quickly, and it was easier, weirdly, when she was talking to her and not someone else. A lot of what the purple-haired woman said went right over her head, anyway, so as long as she nodded in all the right places, and occasionally hummed approval, she tended to do a pretty good job of looking like she was following along, even as her eyes wandered.

And, this time, settled on a familiar red jacket.

“Hey, Adora!” she called, nudging Entrapta to get her to be quiet for a moment. “Over here!”

The blonde looked around the foyer for a moment before spotting them. “Catra? What are you doing here?”

“Seeing a movie.” Catra smirked. “What does it look like? Or am I only allowed to exist inside Hordak’s?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Adora grimaced nervously, chuckling a little. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect to run into you, I guess. What are you two watching?”

“Citizen Kane!” Entrapta almost yelled, bursting forth from Catra’s side with all the force her barely-contained excitement allowed. “Catra doesn’t often come out with me, but I’ve been telling her for weeks about how much I’ve wanted to see this in the theatre and she finally caved. You’re Adora right? She talks about yo–”

“Okay, calm down Entrapta,” Catra said, carefully tapping her colleague on the shoulder before turning back to the blonde. “What are you here to see?”

“The same, actually,” Adora said. “Do you, uhm, mind if I tag along with you guys?”

The movie was, to Entrapta’s credit, not half as boring as it had sounded. Adora had offered to split a box of popcorn, and the three of them had sat at the back of the theatre, quietly muttering to each other—Entrapta about the movie, and the others about anything that came to mind. Adora was easy to talk to, and the two of them were chatting happily as they left the theatre. Catra suggested that the three of them find somewhere to eat, and, in a pleasant surprise, Adora agreed.

There was a family Italian restaurant not too far away that Entrapta was fond of (“So many tiny starters!” she’d said once before), and the three of them wound up sat in a booth, Entrapta next to Catra, and Adora opposite.

“Everything’s so expensive here!” Adora half-whispered to Catra as they looked over the menu, before adding, “In Brightmoon, I mean. Not specifically this restaurant. Not that I’ve been to many restaurants yet, but… oh, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Catra said. “I’ll hand it to Frightzone: that place was cheap as hell.” Probably because it was hell.

Adora nodded. “I guess that’s another thing to adjust to, huh?”

“You’ll figure it out quick,” Catra said. “You kids these days are smart like that.”

Adora snorted, fixing Catra with a look. “Catra, I’m a year younger than you.”

Catra pulled a napkin from the holder in the middle of the table and dabbed at her eyes. Turning to Entrapta, she stage-whispered between gasping sobs: “They grow up so fast.”

Adora nearly choked on her drink.

She wasn’t the sort of person who Catra would have expected to get her humor: Adora’s enunciation was always crisp and clear, even when she was goofing off, and her interests incredibly nerdy (just over the course of dinner, Catra had to stop herself from staring as her companions swapped stories about their dungeons and dragons characters, of all things). But Adora seemed to enjoy rising to the challenge of Catra’s sharp tongue, and was quick-witted enough to meet it, in her own way. More than once, Catra wondered if things would have been different if they’d met in Frightzone.

As they were leaving, Catra grabbed another napkin and pulled a pen out from her bag, quickly scrawling on it before handing it over to Adora.

“What’s this?”

“My number,” Catra said, nonchalantly. “You’re fun, for a nerd. We should hang out more.”

She didn’t actually expect Adora to nod, but it brought a huge smile to her face when she did.

---

unknown number
Hi, this is Adora

The text came out of nowhere the next day, as she was picking up her keys to head to work. She fumbled with the lock with one hand as she added Adora as a contact with the other, before smiling to herself as she composed a reply of her own.

Catra
hows it going nerd

Adora
Well, at least I know it’s you
I’m doing good, thanks, you?

Catra
oh my god you text like you speak
look at little miss prim and proper over here
im good btw

Adora
…
Why did I say yes to this?

Catra
honestly no idea
youre stuck with me now tho lmao

Adora
You know I can just block your number, right?

Catra
no you cant
you wouldnt
adora
adora cmon dont leave me hanging
adoraaaaa

---

Being friends with Adora was, as it turned out, easy. They slipped into a comfortable routine of back-and-forth banter pretty fast, and even on the days that she didn’t have a shift, Catra found herself texting Adora while she sat at home watching TV. She shared what was going on in her life, not that there was all that much to begin with, and learned a lot about Adora in return.

Catra
what do you mean youve never skived off school
actually you know what
im not surprised

Adora
School is important!
Don’t you ever just… want answers?

Catra
what sort of answers?
“how do i stop my roommate having impromptu karaoke sessions every night?”
i don’t think a degree is gonna help me with that one

Adora
No, more like… why things are the way they are
Where our traditions and cultures come from
Where *we* come from

Catra
you really care about that stuff, huh?

Adora
I mean, yeah
Some of us have interests beyond snarking at customers, you know

Catra
rude
ill have you know i have many hidden depths

Adora
Name *one*

Catra
ok but you have to promise not to tell anyone
promise me

Adora
Sure

Catra
i once listened to a dungeons and dragons podcast
and liked it

Adora
Wow
Such deep
Very mystery

Catra
is this for real
are you using dogespeak right now

Adora
Many hidings

Catra
oh my god you are such a dork
why do i like you again

Adora
Because you’re lonely
And I’m the only one who takes pity on you
And I’m cute

Catra
im not going to justify that with a response

---

By winter, the two of them had fallen into a routine—or as much of a routine as they could, between Adora’s shifting schoolwork and Catra’s ever-changing schedule at Hordak’s. Whenever Catra had an afternoon shift, Adora would try to study at Hordak’s for a bit, and the two of them would see a movie most weekends. Adora was a huge film buff, and Catra (though she would never admit it) was feeling better for having the excuse to get out of the apartment. And Adora just had this way of getting her to agree to do things that she’d thought she’d never want to do in a million years.

“I’m having a party this Friday,” Adora said one afternoon, leaning against the back of the espresso machine as confidently as if she owned the place, while Catra carefully poured milk into her mocha. “For Christmas, I mean. Just a few friends. You should come!”

“A party,” Catra said, flatly, putting down the milk jug. “Adora, can you imagine me at a party? Do you really want to inflict that on your friends?”

“Yes,” Adora replied without hesitating. “Glimmer got glitter all over my favourite jeans last week and I want revenge.”

Adora wasn’t kidding when she said it would be a small affair: when Catra arrived, there were only two other guests, and the five of them sat comfortably in the tiny lounge of Adora’s apartment, Catra electing to take the armchair so she could people-watch if the conversation wasn’t engaging. There was Perfuma, a tall, slender woman in a floral dress, who gave of this air of calm collectedness and confidence, who sat next to Adora; Bow was a young man in a crop top, with a passion for engineering that he wore on his sleeve—like most of his passions, from what Catra could tell; and then there was Glimmer, Adora’s feisty, pink-haired roommate, who Catra found was quite easy to rile up, and she made sure to catch Adora’s eye every time she did so.

It was quite a good party, all things considered. The conversation was easy, and Catra never felt pressured to contribute more than she wanted to, and Adora’s friends seemed nice enough. And most importantly, it was quiet.

“Now the party can begin.”

At least, to begin with.

Adora’s last guests arrived late. They were a couple: Mermista, a bored-looking girl with blue hair who was somehow even more sarcastic than Catra, studied marine biology, and gave off the impression that she thoroughly did not want to be there; and him.

Sea Hawk was loud and, apparently, had no shame. Walking into the room, Adora and Mermista in tow, he spotted the empty space next to Perfuma and took it without asking, gesturing for Mermista to sit next to him; when she did, he wrapped an arm around her waist, and Catra shared a quick, apologetic look with Perfuma.

“Budge up.”

Catra looked up to see Adora standing next to her, looking down at her expectantly. “Adora, it’s an armchair. There’s no room.”

Adora shrugged. “It’s a big armchair. Besides, you’re tiny.”

Catra snorted and scooted over to the side as Adora sat down next to her, their legs almost touching. She leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair turning to flash a quick smile at Adora, who was grinning back, an unspoken “I told you so” gleaning in her eyes.

“So Catra, you’re from Frightzone, right?” Sea Hawk asked. “Adora’s told us a lot about the place. It sounds positively charming.”

“Mmm,” Catra hummed, noncommittally. Adora’s enthusiasm for Frightzone was a constant source of bafflement to her, but there was something endearing about her friend’s fondness for the backwater town, and Catra could never quite bring herself to risk bursting her bubble. “It was home, I guess. I’m more of a city girl, though.”

“So I gather!” Sea Hawk smiled. “But what was it like there? Adora’s told us all about the softball team, but I’m sure you’ve got your own perspective for us.”

Catra shuffled in her seat.

“Sea Hawk, maybe she doesn’t–”

“Come now, Perfuma, it’s just high school! I for one would love to hear more stories about Principal Weaver. She was your favourite, wasn’t she, Adora?”

Catra’s jaw was clenched even as she felt her breathing start to hitch; despite herself, she couldn’t help glancing up at Adora, who was blushing lightly and had a stupid, goofy smile on her face. “I– I have to go,” she blurted out, standing up and making a beeline for the door before anyone could stop her.

Of course Shadow Weaver was Adora’s favourite teacher. The bitch was so polite and charming when she wanted to be, and Adora was clearly such a good student that they’d have gotten on like a house on fire. Catra could feel her throat starting to clench up, and she sat herself down in the stairwell of the apartment block, forcing herself to take deep breaths.

A door swung open on the landing above.

“Catra? Oh, there you are!”

A flurry of footsteps, and soon Catra was wrapped up in Adora’s arms, and it was like a dam burst inside her. She buried her face in the crook of Adora’s shoulder and sobbed, her whole body shaking. She could feel Adora’s hand running through her hair, and hear her voice whispering gently, soothingly, into her ear; she could see, through the blur of hot tears, the faded red of Adora’s jacket.

And when she’d stopped crying, what felt like hours later, she told Adora everything. How she’d been adopted by Shadow Weaver after her parents died; how Shadow Weaver had treated her, withholding meals when her grades weren’t good enough and confiscating her phone to read her private messages with her first girlfriend, all the while putting on the perfect facade of a loving foster home for everyone else to see; how she had run away at the very first opportunity she had because even the thought of Frightzone had made her sick back then.

Adora was quiet for a few minutes after that. Then she said, quietly, “Do I remind you of all that?”

“No,” Catra said, honestly, resting her head on Adora’s shoulder. “You’re too good to remind me of home.”

---

Their relationship changed, after that night. For a few days, Adora seemed to be holding back when they bantered, as if she was afraid of hurting her, until Catra simply told her that she was being boring and that Glimmer put up more of a fight than her. That, it turned out, was more than enough assurance to get Adora to stop treating her like some kind of fragile teacup, and so (as Catra joked a few days later) their friendship was saved.

She did notice when Adora’s hand started brushing against hers as they were walking around town, though. And she wasn’t the only one.

“Are you and Adora dating?” Scorpia asked out of nowhere one morning, and Catra nearly dropped the saucer she’d been cleaning. “Because you two seem to be a bit more, I don’t know, affectionate this week. Don’t get me wrong, I’m cool with it. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. Scratch that, I don’t think–”

“We’re not dating, Scorpia,” Catra said, flatly. “She’s my best friend.”

“Oh, okay,” Scorpia said. Then, a few moments later, she added, “Do you want to date her?”

“What?!” Catra’s voice jumped up an octave. “No! She’s… I’m… We’re…”

“You don’t need to get all defensive,” Scorpia said, as Catra fumbled to find the words to explain how much she didn’t want to date Adora. “It was just a question.”

---

It might have just been a question, but it was still very much on her mind that evening as she was curled up on her sofa, half-watching Netflix as she texted Adora.

Catra
scorpia seems to think were dating

Adora
What?
That’s ridiculous

Catra
i know right?
im so obviously out of your league

Adora
…
Yes
That is definitely the only reason we’re not dating

Catra
its okay, id let you down gently
im a good friend like that

Adora
Why are you assuming that I’m the one with the crush in this relationship?

Catra
because youre a dork who watches romcoms when she thinks nobodys watching her

Adora
What are you watching on Netflix right now?

Catra
…
you suck

Adora
Checkmate, atheist

Catra
i cant believe i put up with this
why are we friends

Adora
I repeat:
Because I’m cute

Catra
i thought we just established youre the one with the crush

Adora
Firstly, no, we literally didn't
Secondly: are you really telling me you’d say no if I asked you out right now?

Catra
i
no?
i dont know

Adora
Well then
How does dinner tomorrow night sound?

Catra
i
yeah
id like that

Adora
It’s a date, then 😉

Catra
did
did that just happen
did you actually just ask me out by text

Adora
Yeah?
I’ve been thinking about it all week, honestly
I thought you might like to have some texts that, well, you could *keep* private
I’m sorry, is that okay?
This is way too fast I'm sorry
I'm kinda new to this

Catra
youre a dork
and that might be the sweetest thing ive ever heard

Adora
I’m your dork
It’s official
You’re stuck with me now
“Lmao”

Catra
i promise ill never block your number

Adora
I’ll hold you to that