The moment her arms go around him, Geralt embraces her tight. His hand cradles the back of her head. He'd wondered if she would be spat back into the Horizon first—the regular plane—but the Singularity's ejected her outright. He doesn't need to listen to her heart; he can feel it thundering as she presses against him.
The sky darkens above, the monolith's shadow stretching dark over the dusty landscape. The temperatures sink with the sun.
Eventually, he pulls back a little and cups her face between his palms, studying her closely with furrowed brows.
"Are you okay?"
She's hurt, but he can look at the scrapes and bruises in a minute. He just wants to be sure she's actually here, that there's not some part of her left behind in the Horizon. It's always worried him that might happen one day—not only that it might take her from him in one fell swoop, but that he'll end up watching it consume her without her ever realizing.
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The sky darkens above, the monolith's shadow stretching dark over the dusty landscape. The temperatures sink with the sun.
Eventually, he pulls back a little and cups her face between his palms, studying her closely with furrowed brows.
"Are you okay?"
She's hurt, but he can look at the scrapes and bruises in a minute. He just wants to be sure she's actually here, that there's not some part of her left behind in the Horizon. It's always worried him that might happen one day—not only that it might take her from him in one fell swoop, but that he'll end up watching it consume her without her ever realizing.