Ivan

Ivan had always believed that love is where the railing ends and the void begins. It is absolute trust, when your feet feel no support, but a sense of calm spreads within because there is someone beside you breathing in unison, asking for no safety net.

He had watched her all these years—how deftly she leaped across gaps, how she squinted against the wind atop unfinished towers. Height was their common language. They climbed roofs and cranes not for the risk, but to test the strength of reality, and in every such run, Ivan saw a kindred spirit—fearless and alive.

That evening, they climbed to the very top to hang a banner: "When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace." Ivan tightened the last knot, turned around, and saw her—standing on the edge, her hair windswept and a smile on her face. He dropped to one knee right there on the cold metal, took out a small box, and looking up at her, said softly:
"You are my greatest height. And the only one I want to stay on forever. Will you marry me?"