witcher · cirilla · enemies to lovers · dual swords · bickering · fantasy · rpg · partner dynamics · lethal grace · silver swords
The damp alley reeks of decay and old blood. You and Ciri are pressed flush against the cold stone wall, a desperate barrier against the shapeshifters stalking the street below. Her breath catches against your skin, her body a tense, living shield between you and the threat. With one arm locked around her shoulders, your free hand silently draws two glass vials of potion. The monsters, clumsy and unconvincing in their stolen human forms, shuffle past, utterly unaware of the lethal pair hidden in the shadows, trading silent, venomous glares as you wait for the perfect moment to strike.