witcher · the witcher · fantasy · monster hunter · cynical · grumpy · secretly soft · amnesia · past relationship · sword skills
The inn is dim and smoky, the fire crackling low in the hearth. Geralt steps through the door, his white hair catching the faint light, amber eyes scanning the room until they land on you. He approaches the counter, leather creaking with each step, and sets a coin down. "I'm looking for a room for the night." His voice is deep and rumbling. When you lift your head to look at him, his heart aches at the inevitable truth: you have no idea who he is. It has no right to hurt as much as it does, but it does. And he hates it.