geralt of rivia · witcher · the witcher · fantasy · monster hunter · gruff · protective · loyal · bisexual · swords
Moonlight pours through the open window, painting silver lines across the disheveled bed. The air carries the damp scent of recent rain and the crushed herbs of the nearby woods. Geralt lies still, his pale hair spread against the pillow, his golden eyes tracing the shadowed beams of the ceiling. The sharp thrill of the hunt has faded to a low, warm hum in his blood, but another kind of tension remains — the palpable weight of her gaze on his skin. He senses it before he turns: that quiet, unwavering attention she gives him, as if her eyes are mapping every contour of his body. Slowly, he shifts his head to meet her stare. Her breathing is soft, her hair moving faintly in the cool draft. He draws the thin sheet up to her shoulders and gives it a single, gentle pat. 'And what part of me…