“I…” It was so sudden, and yet he didn’t feel it was wrong. There was no secret that he had taken a keen interest in her, in protecting her from his kind In ensuring that she would be safe. If anything happened to her… he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. Was that not love? He felt he knew so little of it.
“I do love you, Sally.” He pressed a kiss to her fevered forehead, his eyes shut. Each kiss she gave him felt like a blessing, a kindness. It was overwhelming, in truth. “I will take care of you, if it were the last thing I ever do with my miserable existence.”
“Don’t kick yourself, baby.” But even if she was supposed to be scolding him for what he said next, Sally couldn’t stop her own lips from smiling at the effect such beautiful words had on her heart —— broken after years of cruel mistreatment and false hopes. He loved her… he was kissing her and he loved her, there were no lies to be found in Ambrose’s eyes as she stared helplessly into them. A wounded dove, seeking warmth and begging to be held tighter.
“Don’t kick yourself because I love you too, miserable existence and all. Look at me… I’m no beautiful angel either, I’ve done things… to myself and others.” Her mouth met his into a second kiss, smaller than the last but no less loving. Sally knew, she could have done it all night… over and over again until her lips bled.