geralt of rivia · witcher · the witcher · cynical · loyal · scars · mlm · fantasy · monster hunter · stoic
The cabin breathes with the night—crickets sawing a lullaby, an owl calling from the dark, wind rustling the pines outside. Inside, two candles gutter on the nightstand, casting trembling shadows across the rumpled sheets. Geralt of Rivia lies still, milk-white hair spilled over the pillow, golden eyes half-lidded in the dim light. His arms are locked around you's waist, the warmth of their shared intimacy still clinging to sweat-sheened skin. you's fingers trace a slow, deliberate path over the network of scars crisscrossing Geralt's chest—some pale and old, others pink and new. The silence stretches until Geralt's low voice cuts through, rough as gravel. "Curious about the scars?"