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"DYLAN

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"DYLAN."

"Yes?"

"I want cake."

"Ana, babe, you're gonna get cake tomorrow."

"But I want it like, now."

Dylan laughed and with one hand he grabbed Anastasia's hand, while the other stayed on the car wheel. The two were driving home from the airport, back from their trip to Australia.

"Your birthday is tomorrow," Dylan said, "I think you can wait it out."

"Yeah no. I want cake, and the baby wants cake. So I say, we should get a cake," Anastasia said, "And what's wrong with having cake two days in a row?"

"You really want cake, don't you?" Dylan asked.

"Yes."

"Okay fine. I'll get you some came, if."

"If what?" Anastasia questioned.

"If, you move in with me." He said.

"What?"

"Move in with me."

"You're serious?" She asked.

"Yes. I want you to move in with me," Dylan said, "I would easier for us, and when the baby is born."

"Are you sure? I mean I'm not the cleanest person and-"

"Anastasia, I am positive. I love you, and I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want you to be the last thing I see when I sleep. I want to live with you." He said.

"Really?" Anastasia asked one last time.

"Yes." He nodded.

"Okay." She said.

"Okay?" He questioned.

"Okay, I'll move in with you." She told.

"Really?"

"Yes. I want to move in with you." She said.

"Okay, lets do this." He said.

"I love you."

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