[ Is he? He supposes that must be so; he remembers the pictures Julie told him about, the places and things she's never seen until this world. Geralt surrounds himself with wanderers, but he knows that isn't how it is for most—in any sphere, his or hers or this one. People grow up in villages they never leave. Escape is a distant dream.
And before he was left to the Witchers, he'd craved the same. Adventure, leaving the confines of his childhood home. Maybe they both found it through paths they never expected to take.
He helps tug the buttons on his trousers loose, popping them one by one. Her hand is warm against his stomach and the heat grows into a heavy pressure. ]
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And before he was left to the Witchers, he'd craved the same. Adventure, leaving the confines of his childhood home. Maybe they both found it through paths they never expected to take.
He helps tug the buttons on his trousers loose, popping them one by one. Her hand is warm against his stomach and the heat grows into a heavy pressure. ]
My view is plenty nice from here.