Celes watched his back for a moment, the weight of their strained relationship settling heavily on her chest. She closed her eyes, feeling the guilt of her silent reproach as she tried to drift back to sleep. But flood of memories came rushing back to her—a time when she had been caught in the rain, desperate to bring him medicine to soothe his stomachache.
It was raining heavily.
I arrived at the Consul’s office, drenched and disheveled, my hair plastered to my face and clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin. The sentinels and scouts, including Andros’s own Gamma and Delta, turned to me with mocking laughter.
“What are you doing here, Celes? Looking for a place to dry off?”
"C'mon, she's the Beta's mate?"
"Scrawny look suits you, doll."
Ignoring them, I pushed forward, my heart pounding. I found Andros at his desk, papers strewn around him.
“Andros,” I panted, holding out the medicine, “I brought this for you.”
He looked up, his expression icy. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his tone laced with irritation.
“I heard you were sick."
His eyes flicked over my rain-soaked form with disdain. “You look like a drowned rat."
That erupted laughter from his own men.