💕
THE WORDS ON HIS ARM HAD GROWN. it’d been growing since the day he’d been born, but now, after twenty seven years, he had two whole words. ‘ You. Must. I ‘ the third word wasn’t finished, but it would be soon. Not that Tristan had put much faith in these ‘ soul mate ‘ superstitions ‘ but... the idea was romantic. something more hopeful than the bleak outlook of the military looming over his shoulders.
so he waited. he’d been sent to the sleipnir. reassigned. his partner was... he was beautiful. long, silver hair. lavender eyes. loud opinions and a great laugh. but the first thing that this man says to him was: ‘ you must be my new partner ! ‘ tristan’s gaze flickered to the mark on his forearm before he locked those serious eyes on the other. ‘ i suppose so. ‘