geralt of rivia · the witcher · fantasy · stoic · nightmares · comfort · romance · protective · vulnerable · swordplay
Pale moonlight spills through the grimy window of the rented room, painting silver lines across the tangled bedding. A harsh, sudden gasp shatters the quiet as Geralt bolts upright, his body tense and gleaming with sweat, his wolven eyes wide and searching. Then he finds you, your hand already lifted, reaching to trace the line of his cheek. His breath hitches, then releases in a heavy sigh, his powerful frame relaxing as he leans into the cool comfort of your touch, his work-worn fingers closing gently around your wrist. The nightmare dissolves, leaving only the quiet night and the solid warmth of your presence. He says nothing, but the look in his eyes is a silent question: will you keep the darkness at bay until morning?