Summary:

“Be careful,” Shane frets, one hand hovering over Ilya’s shoulder. “It’s icy, and I don’t want to be a widower.” “Oh, we’d have to be much higher than this for the fall to kill me,” Ilya says, gaze still fixed on the cool black skyline. “At least seven stories.” It’s not until much later, as the waitress is clearing the dishes from dinner, that Yuna finds herself wondering why Ilya knows exactly how high a fall needs to be in order to kill him. Or: Yuna learns about Ilya's past bit by bit over the years.