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Her raincoat was too big for her that day. It felt like a big white dress that danced around her ankles and draped over her and her red school bag. She was old enough to walk home on her own now, after her neighbourhood had painted safe yellow lines for kids to follow.
But today it was raining so much. It pitter pattered on the hood of her coat, the sound just as thunderous as the cracks above her in the sky and the scattered falls of the raindrops' impact on the ground. There was too much to take in, Adora was overwhelmed.
But Adora was a big girl now. And big girls can walk home on their own.
Everything around her was trying to pull her attention away from her hard gaze on the floor. Just follow the yellow line, her mothers had told her. Just follow the yellow line, and stop at the circled number twenty-eight.
She kept her arms to her chest, not threading them through the sleeves of her raincoat so she could grip onto the straps of her backpack. She had found that the grip somehow always calmed her in overwhelming situations.
But her grip slackens just as her line of sight wavers from the yellow line when she hears the tiniest meow to her left. Against a red brick wall is a large cardboard box on its side, rained on until it soaked up enough water that it was collapsing on itself. She should follow the yellow line. Her mothers told her not to wander away from it.
But then she hears another meow. And Adora's mind wanders away.
The top of the box is concaving. Adora's on her knees to see what's inside.
Like her big raincoat, there's a big red sweatshirt. And what it hangs off of is the scruffiest, and most drenched, kitten-human Adora's ever seen. Adora's always wanted a pet. She loves animals. She pets every animal she sees.
But her mothers never let her have one. Because they didn't like Adora much.
No matter the case, she reaches out and into that dark box, wanting to touch those big, twitching ears. She hears the hiss before she feels the scratch on her hand.
"It's okay, I won't hurt you."
Eyes of blue and gold stare back at her. Adora loves animals. And looking into those big, scared eyes now, she knows she's in love with this one.
"Adora, you can't keep her. She's not an animal."
Adora staggers back over her drenched bag on the floor, but she holds the shivering body against her back closer to her at her mother's words. She had forgone the safety of her bag to instead fit her kitten inside her raincoat with her. The proud, little poof of her fringe now matted to her forehead when she offered the hood to her kitten too. She knows enough about animals that water inside their ears was bad for them.
"But I found her." She stands as tall as she can, hands tightening behind her.
"I know you did, baby, but she's not an animal for you to keep."
Adora feels ganged up on now. This is worse than when they force her to eat her carrots and to brush her teeth. She found her kitten so she gets to keep her. Finders keepers!
"But she was alone! And in the rain!"
"And that's horrible. But we have to take her to the station."
One of her mothers is on her knees in front of her now, carefully unbuttoning her raincoat. Adora feels her chest in her throat. She knows the wetness on her cheeks now isn't from the rain.
"But - but she's mine. I found her."
"I know, baby. You did a wonderful job at finding her and bringing her home. But now we can take over from here. You did amazing."
She doesn't know if it's her kitten trembling or if she is from how heavy she's sobbing now. But she does feel and hear the hiss against her nape when her mother pulls her arms away from hugging her kitten behind her.
"She's scared."
"I know she is, baby."
"I said I'll look after her."
"And you have, baby."
"Why can't I keep her?"
Her mother thumbs the tears from her cheeks, the warmth of her palms chasing away the numbness of the cold. She leans in to kiss the stinging of her watery eyes, before whispering, "she isn't yours to keep."
Five months later Adora sees her kitten again. She's standing in front of her classroom, hands tightly gripping the straps of a blue backpack. Her mane's been trimmed so it wasn't as wild anymore, and her fur brushed and dried. Adora wouldn't have easily recognised her, if it weren't for those blue and gold eyes.
Her kitten had a name, apparently.
She liked it. It was,
"Hi, I'm Catra."
Adora isn't great at multitasking. If pulled in too many different directions her mind gets instantly scattered. But she's trying. Her hardest in fact.
Water has soaked her shoes straight through to her socks. But it doesn't stop her from pedalling as fast as she could. She doesn't have to stare at the yellow line anymore. Doesn't have to count down from twenty-eight to nineteen.
What she does have to count is the seconds in between the lightning she sees crackling through the cloudy sky up ahead away from the thunder she hears roaring from above. The closer she gets the closer her count is to thirty seconds.
Which is bad.
Her dismount from her bike was anything but flawless. She tried to hop off before she could fully stop, and her wheels slipped on the wet grass lining the pavement leading up to the front door. But Adora had no time to worry about her possibly skinned knees.
Rounding the house, she picks up the coloured pebbles of blue and red, tossing as hard as she could, hoping it hit the target because the rain drowning her eyes blocked her line of sight. It took a couple of tries, then a last hope of a handful of pebbles thrown at the same time, before a rope ladder was tossed out from the window above.
"Adora, what are you doing here? Are you crazy?"
Hands haul her through the window before she could even get her torso to line up with its opening. She tumbles into the warm body in front of her, arms grappling her away from the whistling winds of outside.
"Lightning - thunder," she panting a bit. When she goes to gulp in a lungful of air, hoping to calm her racing heart and burning throat, a whipping crack slaps through the sky followed by a terrified yelp. Adora quickly wraps her arms around the head now burrowing into her chest, laying her body heavily down against the trembling one below her. "You said your parents are out of town for business."
"You're an idiot."
Adora grins at the grumble, because those words could be biting from anyone else, but the fingers fisting the back of her jumper says differently.
"An idiot that isn't scared of lightning and thunder, though."
When thirty seconds pass and nothing happens, hands slide across her back before slithering in between them to push her away by her shoulders.
"Whatever, get off me, you're heavy."
Just to annoy her, Adora relaxes her muscles and drops like deadweight.
"Ugh, you're drenched too! Go take a shower, loser!"
Adora rolls onto her back with a squeal after getting a sharp jab to her side. The pain quickly vanishes before she falls into a fit of giggles when a fluffy towel and articles of dry clothing are hurled into her face and body.
"You're welcome, Catra!"
Later when she's gotten an earful from her mothers after she rang home with Catra's home phone, Adora is sitting on the couch, heater blowing down onto her, with Catra kneeling on the carpeted floor in front of her.
"You're an idiot."
Adora opens her mouth to protest, but what comes out instead is a hiss of pain. Remind her to never get injured again. Adora says Catra's getting a kick out of cleaning up her wounds and bandaging her. Catra always rebuts that she's making sure Adora doesn't get an infection.
The tight clench of her teeth and knuckle-white grip she has on the couch slacken, however, when Catra ducks down after smoothing the bandage over her knee to give it a feather light kiss.
"Thank you, though. You really didn't have to come, Adora."
There's a giddiness that flutters at the base of her stomach, and she knows she can do nothing to stop it from showing up on her face. Slithering down from her seat, she plops down next to Catra, back pressed against the couch before dropping her head onto her friend's shoulder.
"I wanted to."
No matter how much moaning and groaning she hears leading up to game day, when she looks over into the bleachers, in her numbered jersey, with their school colours painted across her cheekbone, is always Catra cheering for her. No matter the amount of people who come to see her play, her eyes always roam the many faces until they see eyes of blue and gold.
Whenever she scores, she searches for them to share the moment of glory with.
Whenever she misses, she hears her name screamed with encouragement through the jeers.
Adora runs faster, plays harder, because she knows that Catra's watching her and only her. She's here for Adora and Adora only. And that knowledge alone is enough to pump through her veins and power her on through.
Today, however, has marked the beginning of the wet season. The grass field below her offers no grip. The ball becomes a bit of a wild card every time she goes to kick it. Her clothes cling and hang off of her, adding extra weight that she has to drag across the field at breakneck speed if she doesn't want anyone intercepting her.
Adora is fighting against the rain, the clock, the other team and her own stamina. But she throws her entire body into her kick, watches it spin and rotate through the air, water droplets flinging off of it before it hits the back of the net.
The whistle is blown and she is in the air before she has time to fully take in what just happened.
They won.
She won.
Adora's on her teammates' shoulders, basking in the limelight of their victory and the roars of the crowd. But she whips her head around, sees the face splitting grin that allows sharp canines to peek out. Blue and gold dripping with pride.
Catra may be drenched to the bone in her soccer jersey, the paint on her cheeks gliding down until they drop off her chin, but it isn't the first time this thought has crossed Adora's mind.
Catra is beautiful.
The car ride is nothing but awkward. It was longer than anticipated, but what did Adora expect? One drop of water and the entire world forgets how to drive, apparently.
You're such a road rager.
The voice that mocks her is Catra's. And that somehow makes her simmer in her seat even more. Because it may be Catra talking to her in her head, but said person sitting in her passenger seat right now has her body turned around so she could face the person in the backseat.
"I told you it was going to be an awful movie!" The chuckle that rolls off of Catra's tongue is full of glee and a tad of smugness.
Adora's fingers tighten on the steering wheel. Of course it's because of the stop-start traffic, though. Nothing else, because that would be ridiculous.
"But it had such great reviews!"
"I'm telling you, those film critics wouldn't know a good movie unless it smacked them on the ass."
"Catra!"
Another one of those chuckles rumble through her before Catra turns back around and drops into her seat. "Tell me I'm wrong."
When a noise of forced agreement rings from behind them, Catra crosses her arms and smirks. A low purr humming from the base of her throat.
Adora tries to not hear it. Tries to will the hairs on her arm to stay at bay at the soft sound.
She forces her eyes to follow the swiping of her window wipers. Adora can't multitask. This is one of the rare times that that trait comes in handy.
"You can drop the act now."
Adora isn't even apologetic that she takes off before Catra's friend could turn back around and say goodbye through the car window. It's raining. They have no time to re-say their byes.
"What do you mean?" Catra looks at her with furrowed brows.
"She's gone now. You don't have to pretend to be extra peppy."
"I don't know what you-"
"Does she even know you're scared of lightning and thunder?"
Catra crosses her arms, her tail swishing up to wrap itself around her waist. "Well, I nev-"
"You never told me either."
"That's different and you kn-"
Adora doesn't know why she's picking a fight. She hates fighting with Catra. It always leaves a bitter taste on her tongue after every word is said. Leaves her heaving with a heavy chest like she has an anchor sitting on her. But something has ticked her off all week, and today, after Catra called her with her fake everything is fine voice, to be picked up from the cinemas, whatever it was that Adora was trying to punch and kick down inside of her exploded.
"You always try to flatten your tail out because it's one of your biggest emotional indicators. But you've never mastered it fully because the tip is always left a little puffy. Your ears twitch and swivel between each lightning, because you're counting in your head but also trying to attentively listen for when the thunder strikes. You may put on the biggest smile you can, but your canines never show because it isn't a genuine one. Your ey-"
"What is your point, Adora!"
Adora may have swerved into her unofficial parking spot right outside Catra's house, but it isn't because she's slowly spiralling. She stares at that number nineteen on the ground, the circle around it almost completely gone, but the faded number was still there. She wonders if the council will repaint it or n-
"Well, Adora?"
Her eyes jolt away from the faint yellow line outside her window to throw daggers at Catra. Why does she feel so angry?
"My point is that your so-called friendly date doesn't know the bare minimum about you, nor could she even read your body language to be able to tell that you're uncomfortable, let alone, scared. She asked you on this date but doesn't even have the decency to find you both a ride home at least-"
"Are you mad that I called you for a lift?"
"No! That's not why I-"
"Then why are you yelling at me!"
"Because she doesn't deserve you!"
A beat of silence passes between them. Adora’s chest is heaving from her outburst, and Catra’s just staring at her. "Oh, then who deserves me then, Adora?"
"I-" and that quickly shuts Adora up. Her mind runs blank and her throat clogs up. Where was she going with all of this? She was in the right for being angry at seeing her best friend go on dates with losers after losers, right?
Catra lets out a huff of disbelief at her tongue tie. "If you're going to blow up on me, at least know why. I'm sorry for being into buff women who are idiots." Catra gives her a pointed look, rolls her eyes, before getting out of her car and slamming her door for the dramatics.
Adora's eyes follow her, forcing them to focus through the crashing rain and her rapidly moving wipers. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
You're such an idiot.
Adora flies out of her car, gets whiplash the first attempt after forgetting to undo her seatbelt. Her shoes are slapping against the pavement, the bottom of her jeans beginning to soak from the splashing of puddles. The echo of her sprint has Catra turning around and Adora slams right into her front.
The kiss is a little off target and Adora holds down her wince while Catra doesn't when the sheer momentum has their teeth clashing against their lips.
Catra is laughing, and Adora can't help but follow.
"You're such an idiot."
Adora threads her fingers through the tufts against the sides of Catra's neck that always seems to grow longer than the rest of her fur. She drops her forehead down to lean against Catra's and just takes in their intimate proximity. "Yeah, I know," she smiles.
This time, unlike Adora's disaster, Catra leans up and catches her lips. It's a little wet, but Adora falls into it nonetheless, not knowing how long she's wanted to do this until now. A tail coils around her waist and tugs, and Adora follows Catra's lead, stepping more into her.
"Can I keep you?" Mirth sings through the whisper against her lips.
Adora swallows her and Catra's chuckle, before she leans out just enough to nod. "You had me at six with that meow."
"Shut up, jerk." Catra punches her shoulder.
Adora reluctantly pulls away from the light caress her fingers were doing with the tuft to chase Catra's hand before it could move away. She laces their fingers together, a grin so big stretching across her face, it may let the butterflies out from her stomach. "Yeah, but yours."
Catra rolls her eyes. "Yeah, one with a flooded car."
Pivoting on her spot, Adora stares with horror at her wide open driver's side door. She feels a slight tug on her hand, thumb caressing over faded scratch marks, and looks back. The smile on Catra's face is light and soft. Her eyes are warm in the coldness falling around them. Blue and gold shining in the grey that the clouds above have painted their surroundings with.
Adora's eyes flutter close when Catra leans up to press a feather kiss into her. Feels her body shiver when a purr vibrates on her lips and through her every nerve.
"Not that I don't find kissing in the rain romantic, and the dramatics of the car situation memorable. But next time, talk to me."
"I promise." Adora seals it with another kiss, her flooding car forgotten because she can't multitask. And kissing Catra should always be her main priority.
"Well?"
Adora throws her head back and laughs. Because of course. She nods and let's Catra pull her through the crack of the door, slipping away from the ongoing party and crowd behind them.
Her eyes are closed, neck tilted back as she breathes in the smell of wet grass and the flower arrangements they had chosen. The droplets gather across the expanse of her exposed skin and drip off of her, soaking her dress to the seams.
"Dance with me."
It isn't a question, but who is Adora to turn down her wife on their wedding day?
She doesn't know how long they stay out there, just swaying against each other, until they are finally found and scolded. But Adora lets herself be engulfed in the moment, where it's just the two of them, in the rain, in their own little world.