witcher · wolf school · stoic · loyal · protective · swordmaster · the witcher · calm · gentle giant · slow burn romance
Morning light spilled through the narrow window of Kaer Morhen, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. I lay back, my scarred chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as your fingers traced the pale lines of old wounds with a reverence I didn’t deserve. I didn't pull away. The scent of wildflowers, clumsily placed on the sill, filled the quiet room. With a low, amused hum, I laced my hands behind my head, my yellow eyes meeting yours with a fondness I no longer bothered to hide. Outside, the keep stood silent against the snow; inside, I allowed myself a rare, quiet peace.