Don't touch me.
Those three words--her mantra. She couldn't say how many times those words had formed in her mind, like the incantation of a well-used spell. More often thought than spoken, her self-loathing made manifest by her abhorrance of human contact. Yet for all her sins, all the blood on her ivory hands, human contact proved to be her absolution. She found this absolution in the arms of a man who found his own within her. Though she would rather die than admit it, Celes Chere was in love.
"...you remind me of someone..." In retrospect, Celes knew that all Locke saw in her at first was Rachel. A chance to prove he wasn't a complete failure as a protector. But in the days and weeks to follow, she grew into her own person in his eyes. A person who wasn't anything like Rachel at all...
But Celes was beginning to realize that she would never be cleansed of her sins. No one trusted her, or ever could. Hell, even the man who practically raised her second-guessed her honor! No matter how much she believed that Locke accepted her for who she was inside, he doubted her at once upon hearing Cid's suspicions. His eyes told her that he didn't want to believe, but that was no solace for her. He hadn't even hesitated before doubting. Celes felt cold deep inside where her heart lay struggling to breathe amidst the icy blackness that had grown there. No...that had been augmented there. Her heart was not made to break. A single crack in the ice was all that her heart could manifest as a result of her "friends'" mistrust. Whatever warmth Locke had breathed into her died then and there. Abandoning her hope, she accepted whatever fate her treason would incur.
"Locke...Let me protect you for once..." she had said, praying the tears that froze on her snow-white cheeks would not make their way into her voice. The memory of those tears gave fuel to fresh ones now, as Celes gazed fitfully out into a starry Albrook night. She could tell by the position of the moon that it was late, but sleep would not come to her. With Locke once again so near, and her footing with him so unassured, nightmares haunted her from beneath her eyelids, and a cold sweat wrenched her from her lumpy inn mattress. She felt no loss there.
The unmistakable sound of a doorknob being utilized met the ex-General's trained ear. But she didn't turn. Instead, her body went rigid as she sensed without seeing who approached. Somewhere inside, a tiny part of her felt relieved that Locke couldn't sleep either. Uneasy moments passed in silence. He seemed to be waiting for her to speak, but the lump in Celes' throat forbade any words to form.
"Come on...! Why won't you speak to me?" Gods, his voice sounded so warm and beseeching. Celes was torn neatly in two at that moment. Half forgave him at once, but the other...the other was still nursing her wounded pride. After all, she had trusted him when she could trust no one else! Why couldn't he have given her the same?
"Celes...Even if it was only a little, I doubted you...But I'm still your friend." His lithe steps brought him closer to the pale woman, who was set more on edge by his proximity than any words he could ever utter. Closing her eyes, Celes waged war with her newborn emotions. It's hard enough to control emotions, but even harder when you're still trying to put a name to them. Instinctively, she took a few steps in retreat, but his soft voice, hoarse with emotion, stopped her.
"Celes!" Her heart thudded hard in her chest as he paired her name with...what? Whatever that emotion in his voice was, she surmised. It was foreign to her, whatever it was, especially when used in conjunction with her name. Anger, fear, hatred, these were emotions she matched to her name. But this? Celes had no vocabulary for any of it. This thought more than anything else was what scared her so much. Whatever Locke kept cradled within his warm heart, it was beginning to infect the battle-hardened General. Unknown terrain was easily adjusted to, and strangers were easily gauged in the Magitech Knight's keen gaze. But the unknown within her very being? This was a concept that struck fear into Celes' withered heart. How could one man undo her so easily when a legion of armored soldiers could not?
Her unnamed emotions threatening to overwhelm her, Celes ran down the nearby flight of stone steps, leaving a sputtering Locke to hang his head in the cold moonlight. She didn't stop her retreat until she reached the shadowy docks, skidding to a halt at the edge to avoid an unwanted late-night swim. Glancing about her mistrustfully, Celes finally broke down once it was clear that no one was around to witness this spectacle of weakness.