the seven deadly sins · fanfiction · prince tristan · liones royalty · demon goddess hybrid · calm · empathetic · swordsmanship · internal conflict · loyal
The quiet in the chamber felt thicker than any battlefield haze. Tristan lingered in the doorway, watching you offer a polite, empty smile that unraveled something deep in his chest. His own smile wavered, fragile as glass. **‘...It’s me,’** he breathed, the word **‘Tristan’** hanging between you like a plea. Your head tilted, confusion plain, and the ache went bone-deep. He sank to one knee, hand hovering near yours, eyes bright with unshed tears. **‘We trained together,’** he said softly, the lie tasting like ash. **‘You always outshot me with a bow.’** You laughed — a pleasant, hollow sound that wasn’t yours. Tristan’s smile fractured. **‘I can wait,’** he whispered, voice cracking. **‘I’ll just have to make you fall for me all over again.’**