Naturally, Ambrose didn't give a straight answer. Zero puns intended.
Instead, he stayed staring at Devon for several seconds, his cheeks getting so red you'd think he just came back from the edge of an active volcano.
And when Devon saw this… he finally remembered Valentine's warning on emotionally stressful situations. He lowered his head, catching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.
"Shit," he cursed. "I'm sorry. I didn't… I didn't mean to make it sound pressuring at all."
He quickly grabbed Ambrose's hands again. "I understand if you can't answer yet. At least until you've gotten time to… think."
Thank the gods.
"... But…"
Well, fuck.
"... I also need you to know I've thought this through for quite a while. I'm prepared for whatever answer you have. So please, don't feel forced to say something you don't mean."
Ambrose heaved, his chest caving in with pain. Whether that was from his complications or Devon's confession—he didn't know.
