As Catra stormed toward the exit, she barely registered the blur of people around her. Her mind raced, matching the erratic beat of her heart. She was too focused on escaping to notice the figure stepping into her path—until they collided.
The impact was jarring. Catra yelped, stumbling backward. A hand caught her arm before she could hit the floor. Heat radiated through her skin where they touched, grounding her.
She steaded herself, brushing herself off, "Sorry, I should have watched where I-"
She looked up, her breath caught in her throat, and suddenly, the bustling dining hall felt suffocating. The noise faded, replaced by the pounding in her ears. She clenched her fists to hide their trembling.
Adora's gaze flickered over her, pausing at her hair. Her brows furrowed. "You cut it," she said, her voice soft but laced with surprise. "You always loved your hair."
Catra swallowed hard. Her instinct was to snap back, but words failed her. Her voice wavered when she finally spoke. "Yeah. I did."
She hated how small she sounded, like she was under a microscope, vulnerable and exposed.
Adora looked like she wanted to say something else, her mouth opening slightly before closing again. The tension hung between them like a taut wire.
Catra's chest tightened. She needed to escape. Now.
"Well, I better—" she stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her own feet. "Bye."
Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and fled. Her pulse roared in her ears as she weaved through the crowd, the world blurring around her. Her legs moved on autopilot, faster than they did during practice.
She didn't stop until she burst out onto the quad, gulping down air. The open sky did nothing to ease the storm inside her. Adora's face flashing through her mind like a bad dream.
She quickly made her way towards the doors, weaving around the people that crowded the outside.
____
The night sky glowed through the window, casting a pale light over the room. Scorpia's rhythmic snores filled the space, oblivious to Catra's restless turmoil.
Sleep wouldn't come. She tossed and turned, her thoughts replaying the scene with Adora over and over, like a scratched record stuck on the same painful note.
Her fingers brushed against the short strands of her hair, a reminder of the change she thought would make her feel different—stronger, maybe. But instead, all it did was leave her raw and exposed.
Catra sat up, frustrated. She couldn't shake the weight in her chest or the image of Adora's face burned into her mind. Running hadn't made it better—it never did. It only left her breathless and more tangled in knots.
Her fists clenched the sheets. She was tired of being a coward, tired of letting guilt and pride keep her locked in the past.
Adora might hate her. That was a real possibility, but she wouldn't run from that anymore. She'd face it, face her—whatever it took.
Catra took a deep breath, her resolve settling into her chest. If there was even a sliver of a chance to fix things, she'd take it. She owed Adora that much. And maybe...she owed it to herself too.
Tomorrow would be different. She'd make it different.
Take Me on The Feild
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