Not Vanya.
Vanya was the girl sitting here with him, eating luxury cuisine she could barely pronounce, smiling at a boy who, despite all his sharp edges and violent secrets, made her feel like someone she hadn’t felt like in a long time—wanted, seen, safe.
Could I separate them?
Could I pretend, even for one night, that we were just two people with no weight, no war, no hidden truths?
I didn’t know. But for his sake... and maybe mine too... I could try.
Because maybe that’s the only fair thing either of us could offer each other right now.
The waiter approached with practiced grace, a smile ready to interrupt—but Kross lifted his hand, stopping him mid-step without even looking away from me.
“I know you have questions, Vanya,” he said, voice low and sincere. “And I know you want ans
