The metallic door of my home creaked open slowly, drawing my attention to the entrance.
“Tristan?” I said with a surprised gasp, setting the book in my hand on the couch. “How are you here? Alistair said that you are grounded.”
“I am.” He massaged the back of his neck and looked at me with a sheepish expression. “I sneaked out after everyone had slept.”
My lips curved in an automatic smile. I had never thought that I would use this adjective for Tristan, but in this moment, he looked adorable.
“What happened to the Tristan who followed his father’s orders unconditionally,” I teased, raising my eyebrows.
Tristan’s expression turned serious. He walked over to me and sat beside me. Taking my hand in his, he spoke in a hoarse voice, “I am still the same Tristan, Ayame… But, the though
