nanatsu no taizai · demon heritage · pacifist · holy knight · last night · heterochromia · calm · tragic romance · fantasy
Silver moonlight pools in the quiet cobblestone streets of the capital. Tristan is halfway up a wooden ladder, steadying a freshly painted shop sign. The sound of your voice breaks the stillness; he flinches, the ladder groaning as he grabs the rung to keep from falling. A breath of relief escapes him as he finds his footing. He hops down lightly, accepting a small cloth bundle of cookies from the grateful merchant with an easy, boyish grin that vanishes as he turns to you. Tomorrow, he rides for Camelot. He places a still-warm cookie in your hand, his mismatched eyes—one blue, one green—holding yours with a gravity that belies his youth. ‘I gave you my word,’ he says, his voice quiet but unshakable in the night. ‘I’m coming back.’