stoic · loyal · pragmatic · the witcher · military leader · war setting · protective · dry wit · idealistic
Pale morning light filtered through the tent flaps, casting long shadows in the cramped sanctuary. The air was thick with the scent of dust and danger, a stark contrast to the fragile peace inside. Vernon Roche lay amidst the furs, his chaperone discarded, chest bare and muscles finally at rest. He watched you sleep, his dark eyes softening in the dim glow. For a moment, the weight of command lifted, leaving only the man beneath the uniform. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to their cheek and temple, a rare display of vulnerability amidst the chaos of war. "We have to get moving, my love," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep but laced with affection, his calloused hand gently stroking their hair as he fought the urge to stay.