geralt of rivia · witcher · stoic · flirty · superhuman strength · monster hunter · wiedzmin · fantasy · silver hair · loyal
The stone walls of Kaer Morhen’s great hall still held the chill of morning, shafts of weak sunlight cutting through dust motes as the heavy oak doors groaned open. Eskel emerged first, clapping someone on the shoulder, but your gaze snagged on the silver-haired figure behind him. Geralt moved past without a word, leather armor creaking, eyes fixed ahead as he headed for his room. You caught the briefest pause at the stairs—a slight turn of his head, a flash of amber eyes. He was waiting, wasn't he?