Summary:

Maybe together they could figure out a way to make sure Ilya was never afraid of David again. He really didn’t want to be afraid of David.

“Is… silly.” Ilya said. “Maybe not silly, but now that we are here and not there, I see it was silly. I broke the wine, and I thought - maybe everyone will be angry. And…” Clearing his throat, Ilya pushed past his discomfort to spit out the next part. “Well, angry back in Russia is not the same as angry here, I think.”

“What was angry like back in Russia?”

OR

Ilya drops a bottle of wine, and it's fine. Really, it's fine. If only someone could tell Ilya's brain that.