𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄, 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐇 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃. he doesn't know what he'd been expecting, but it isn't this. it isn't how she's leaning into his touch or how his touch had so obviously dissipated the tension, that everlasting tightness that plagued her muscles. there's a swell of something in his chest, a mix of relief, joy, and a hint of fear. it's too soon to say it's love . . . of course it's too soon for love.
adoration, appreciation, some kind of fucking breakthrough that he never thought he'd achieve with her, no matter how much he desired it. it's a good feeling, a feeling that's causing his heart to flutter uncontrollably in his chest. he's so well aware that this isn't the right moment to be overwhelmed with these big feelings, but he can't help himself. shiloh means something to him, and this, this is everything.
at this moment, time seems to stand still. ambrose is flooded with memories of all the times when shiloh pushed him away . . . all the times he couldn't even hold her hand to guide her, couldn't even brush a single finger against hers, whether or not those were conscious decisions on his part. she's always hyper-aware of his touch, and it's always seemed like her body was on red alert. this realization was a blow to ambrose, and he remembers feeling entirely crushed upon taking note of her touch aversion.
her words break him from his daydream, and he's staring at her with a countenance of total admiration. he wants to say that he doesn't pity her, that he cares about her, that he believes her, and perhaps that he's interested in proof . . . she keeps talking, and he swallows his words instead. is calling her insane a pretty normal reaction? he doesn't know about that, but she sure is pretty.
his lips part when she laughs, almost like it comes as a surprise to him, and her following words force a soft breath out of him, his heart rate elevating to all new heights. is she allowed to look at him like this? it should be illegal, right? slowly, he nods and swallows dryly, fingers pressing firmly against her arm, his attempt at giving somewhat of a side hug. it's cringy, and he doesn't want to admit it to her, but her words truly touched him. their connection is something special.
oh yeah, back to the conversation at hand. ❝ i don't think you're batshit, shy, ❞ he murmurs, his hand hesitantly sliding up her arm to press lightly against the side of her head, tilting it closer so he can plant a single kiss to the top of it. ❝ maybe it's everybody else that's batshit. you're the one that can, like, talk to ghosts, right? so like, it's actually the rest of us that have some catching up to do in terms of evolution. ❞