Black clouds hovered over Ambrose ever since he was eliminated from the competition. The clouds had been following him since his father's death and were pouring acid rain from every corner. The droplets wouldn't stop from awful news from his lawyers to the media, ripping him to shreds because of the paparazzi.

They were capitalizing on Ambrose's mistake, and it made me sick to my stomach. This must've been what it felt like to watch my career collapse overnight from my cocaine scandals and exotic late nights. Milo always nagged me, saying he cared about my health, but our relationship was entangled with my career, and I couldn't tell if he actually did.

Ambrose had been cooped up in bed for the entire week, refusing to pack for over ultimate stop; New York City. Regardless of his elimination, I wanted to bring him along with me, and it's his home turf. We could spend the days off running around the city and hanging out with his best friends.

I pulled back the drapes. "Come on, bean sprout, it's time to stop moping in bed."

Ambrose groaned, throwing the blanket over his head. "Wake me up when it isn't sunny anymore. I hate the sun."

I chuckled. "Okay, Mr. Doom and Gloom, it's definitely time to get some vitamin D."

He popped his head outside from the blanket, smirking. "Well, you're my favorite vitamin."

Pink blossom rose my cheeks. "I like what you did there, but I meant vitamin D from the sun."

The mention of the sun was all it took for him to retreat into his cocoon. "Nooo... I'm not in the mood for anything unless it's you in bed with me."

"Mmm..." I hummed. "It sounds like a really lovely idea, but we should go take a walk around the park or something."

"No," Ambrose groaned.

My eyes rolled back at his immaturity. "Come on!" I threw myself on top of him, latching onto the cover, and played a great tug of war with Ambrose. "Just get out of the damn blankets."

"I said no!" he responded, ferociously fighting back.

"Please!" I grumbled, using all my kickboxing strength to rip the covers from his grip.

Suddenly, flutters of fireflies erupted in my stomach when his arm wrapped around my waist and flipped us over in a swift movement. Somehow, he got us intertwined with the blanket and hovered over me. His handsome features were clear as day, shining brighter with the sun landing on it.

Ambrose placed a quick peck on the crown of my head before snuggling comfortably in the crook of my neck. "That's better."

"Ambrosee!" I whined, trying to ignore the alluring sensations his hot breath brought to my core. "What's got you so down? Is it because you lost the competition or something?"

He sighed. "Why do you assume I'm upset?"

I rolled my eyes at his comment. "We've been dating for about a month now and fake dating for over half a year. Obviously, I'm going to pick up on your little tactics. When you're upset, you shut down, avoiding any kind of human contact. If it wasn't for the fact that this is my hotel room, you probably wouldn't let me in."

He hummed, "I'm that obvious?"

"Yes."

Ambrose laughed, a velvety, smooth, sexy kind of one. "Babe, there's no need to stress out."

My eyebrows arched. "You said that last time and ended up in a bar fight."

He lightly chuckled. "You're so persistent, baby girl. I love that about you." Ambrose pressed his lips against my cheek, spreading warmth across my entire body.

With blushing cheeks, I asked, "So, are you going to tell me why you're upset?"

Ambrose huffed, removing his arms from my body, and laid flat on the bed, facing the ceiling. "You're right... okay. I'm upset, but I don't want to think about it. I just want to think about nothing."

Anguish was written over his handsome features. The wheels were churning in his head. His silence proved it even further. It was almost the same expression he wore after his father's death, but it wasn't as dreadful. Something was clearly eating at him, but how could I make him know it was safe to share with me?

I shifted over to my side, facing him. "Ambrose, please, maybe I can help. I can figure a way to get you back on the show. I'll drop out so you can take my spot. It's an easy fix. I just want you to be happy, Ambrose."

His eyes widened. "No. It's fine, D. I've accepted my own faith. My destiny wasn't to win the show, and it's okay. At first, I was disappointed and wished I had a lifeline of some sort. But I'm more annoyed at myself for presenting a dish that was so lackluster. I'm usually more focused on my production, but I guess it just wasn't my day."

Using my finger, I tilted his jaw over to my direction. "Bean sprout, you have a lifeline! It's me. These producers will do anything I ask, even if it means giving my place over to you. I'll be glad to. You surely deserve it more than me."

Ambrose tenderly caressed my cheek, and I surrendered to his touch. "You're truly a work of art. Believe it or not, you deserve it just as much as anyone there. You claimed to not care about cooking, but I watched you during the round and it was like second nature to you. Just like acting. You're saying you don't care, so I'll take you up on your purpose, but I know you better than that."

Fuck.

Cooking was one of my passions; I loved it. But I've been cooking for so long that I've grown sick of it. I spent the first fifteen years of my life completing cooking competitions, and every single one was an amazing learning experience. Just like this one. Even as I grew lazier over the years, cooking was like second nature, something I could so easily slip into, like a pair of sweats.

So Ambrose was right. During the entire round, I calculated everything to create the proper dish to serve to the judges. I also suffered from a giant disease called a sore loser syndrome and if I even for a second lost focus, then my entire dish would've been fucked up. But despite all that, I'm willing to push my ego aside, so Ambrose had a chance to shine.

He needed this.

He needed the universe to give him a break.

If it kept attacking him like this, then I'm worried he would give up altogether any dreams he had. As Ambrose stated, I'd the world in the palm of my hands and I could make anyone bend to my will if I had just asked. In his eyes, this was his only chance for success when it was the complete opposite.

I bit my lip. "I do love cooking. But my journey as a chef is complete. I proved to the world that I still acquired the skills and showed myself I'm still capable of being as successful as I was when I was nine. But right now, it's time to show the world Ambrose Bright, the best chef I've ever meant."

A somber look fell over his handsome face. "My world already knows that because she's staring right in front of me. I don't want to prove to others that I'm a great chef. The only thing I want to prove is that I'm enough for you, enough for myself. And right now, I just feel like I'm not."

My heart clenched. "I love you just the way you are."

His eyes widened, and he remained silent, blinking frantically. "Come again?"

My eyes darted around the room in confusion. "What? I just said I love you just the way you ar-." Realization dawned on me.

Did I just accidentally confess being in love with him? You got to be fucking kidding me, universe; don't you have the power to tape my mouth shut.

A boyish grin arose on his lips. "Davina... are you in love with me?"

"No!" I blurted, eagerly trying to cover my track.

His hand crawled over to my armpits as he brutally assaulted them, causing me to erupt in laughter. "Tell me the truth or I'm tickling you until you can't breathe."

A wheeze of a giggle departed from my lips. "I-I rath-her y-oou cho-kke mm-e unt-ttil I-I ca-an't brea-theee."

Ambrose's brown eyes darkened at my response. "Come on, D! I want to hear you say it!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, causing Ambrose to retreat. "Jesus, everyone is going to think I'm trying to murder you."

I glared at him. "Anyway, you're right, staying in bed is a better idea. I'll just go make us a quick snac-." Before I could even move an inch off the bed, Ambrose yanked at my arms, pulling me straight into him.

"You're not leaving until I hear you say the magic word," Ambrose smirked, enveloping me so close to his body, the scent of strawberries burning into my brain.

"Please!"

He chuckled. "That's not the magic word I was thinking about."

I groaned. "I'll suck your dick!"

Another laughter rippled from his chest. "Tempting, but that isn't the magic word."

I grunted like a freaking caveman. "Universe, just kill me already."

This wasn't how I planned for Ambrose to know I'm in love with him. I wanted a more romantic setting, like a dinner date or an embarrassing poem like those old poetics used to do. Besides the mood, I didn't want to put all my cards on the table in his hands. It's only been two weeks since we've discussed the messy issue involving Lana, and my heart ached whenever I thought about it.

When the I love you comes out.

Hurt followed soon after.

I trusted Ambrose; I do, but doubt was always something that drained my mind from its strength.

He looked right at me and pinned me with those precious brown eyes. "D, I just want to hear those three magic words."

"Iloveyou," I mumbled, quickly.

"Huh?"

I shrieked into oblivion. "I love you alright! How many times are you going to make me say I -."

Warm lips pressed against mine, moving softly and sultry together. My heart swelled with happiness as I surrendered to his lips, letting his tongue sneak in and teleport me into another world. His hands moved to my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek, making me feel incredibly precious to him.

When we broke off, he leaned his forehead against mine for a moment. I stared back into his eyes as I listened to the sound of our breathing. 

"I think this is the best day of my life." Ambrose grinned, radiating like the sun spilling in from the opened drapes. My nerves went haywire when his hand glided past my ears, tugging at my hair tie, holding my hair for dear life. "I'm keeping this pink hair tie as a memento for the first time. You said I love you."

Blush crept over my cheeks. "It's really a big deal for you, huh?"

Ambrose admired the band around his wrist. "It is... because I'd a dream a few nights ago. Well, more like a nightmare. It involved us... um... breaking up. The idea made me sick to my stomach, but I debated over it in my nightmare."

I nervously giggled. "What is there to debate about?"

"In my nightmare, your career was ceasing to exist because of me. Because of all my public issues with the media. So I thought even if it shatter me into pieces that if you're able to achieve your goals that our break-up would have a purpose. More so than if stayed together... And I couldn't help but weigh the same options in real life. I mean... you aren't getting callbacks because of me, right?" he asked.

I played with the lone curl, dawdling over his forehead. "You shouldn't feel guilty about it. Regardless if I had to choose, I'll pick you over a role any day of the year. I-I... want you to be my future."

He kissed the tip of my nose. "And I want you to be mine."

Warmth enveloped my heart like a pillow casing. "Then don't think about the negatives as long as we have each other. Then everything will be okay."

Instantly, Ambrose jolted from the bedsheets. "I'm suddenly feeling the urge to get out of the house with my girlfriend, who loves me! Did everyone hear that? Davina is in love with me! Me! Little old Ambrose from long island."

My eyes widened in astonishment as I jerked in his direction, covering his mouth. "Are you trying to tell the whole world?"

He nodded and replied with a muffled, "Duh!"

I threw my arms in the air. "So, what do you have planned for us?"

Ambrose shrugged. "I have no idea, but I want to go to a tattoo parlor."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"Because..." He nibbled on his bottom lip, his eyes anxiously darting around the room. "I want to remember this day forever. I want to get a tattoo of today's date."

I arched an eyebrow. "You do know by getting a tattoo of our relationship, you're basically condemning us. Do you really want to risk a relationship with me over a tattoo? This isn't even important wait for our marriage instead."

"Should I ask you to marry me then?" he questioned softly, and my whole heart stopped beating. Was he serious?

"I... Um... I...Huh?" I'm too astounded to create a concrete sentence.

Ambrose frantically searched through the boxes in his closet, throwing all the contents until he found a small rectangular container. My heart exploded in my chest, and my thoughts went all dazed as Ambrose got down on one knee.

"Davina Dialaurentis, would you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?" he asked, opening the box to reveal a small marquise diamond on a yellow gold band.

This has to be a joke, right?

"Ambrose, we can't get married," I said, basically in a whisper.

"Why? I thought it's you and me against the world... no matter what," he softly replied, his eyes sparkling underneath the sunlight.

I laughed, nervously. "It is, but we've only been dating for almost two months. We can't jump into a marriage, we still fight about what to cook over dinner. When we get married, we have to be absolutely sure that we're hopelessly devoted to each other."

"I already am."

I huffed. "No, you're not. Did we forget about little old Lana?"

Ambrose dropped his head. "I didn't forget. I just don't care. Lana is my past. You're my present and future. I don't see myself falling for anyone else."

I rubbed my hands down my face, pacing back and forth around the room. "You said the same thing months ago about Lana. How can you be so sure?"

"Because it's real this time. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and I'm hundred percent positive no one will ever compare to you. I've been holding back because I feared you will pull away if I jump the gun like this. But the truth is out, and I want us to get married," Ambrose stated, his eyes pleading.

My brain short-circuited. "You're truly insane."

"We don't even have to get married instantly. We can just be engaged for a year or two if you want." My speechlessness caused his features to plummet along with my heart. "Alright, I admit I jumped the gun so we can just pret-."

Logic has been left at the door since the beginning of this conversation.

"Say it again!"

A crease emerged between his eyebrows. "Huh?"

"Say. It. Again."

Recognition dawned on him. "Oh! Davina Dialaurentis, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?"

Logic was a misconception. It doesn't always mean doing the right thing or morally approved thing. Logic meant questioning, debating, and coming up with conclusions about why we do things. We might be young.

We might be deranged.

But we wouldn't be Ambrose and Davina if there wasn't anything absurd.

So I replied with, "Yes."

Ambrose smiled so brightly, slipping the ring through my ring finger and kissing it. "Now, I definitely have to get a tattoo of today's date."

Sooooooo Ambrose jumped the gun🤷🏻‍♀️😏!! He's always been really impulsive!! But who's happy about their engagement? Or are you guys more hesitant like Davina was?? Hehe I love it!❤️

Love you guys and can't wait to read your comments!!❤️❤️thank you so much for helping me reach 16K!! This is so crazy! And I'm so utterly grateful for you guys!!