[ it is certain a main reason she would pull away - any time the pull felt too heavily, any time the feeling of this reached her chest, her neck, threatening to pull her under - she take to the road, the next town, anywhere else. she would often claim it was because he left first (which he did, in a way- that very first day) but they both knew the truth. both knew why those good, easy days they did share came to an end.
but they always came back together, in the end. no matter how far he traveled, so matter the decisions she would make, no matter how much pain they had the ability to inflict on each other, she chooses this.
as does he, apparently.
he carries her to the bed and when he sets her upon it, she stretches - feeling the ease and warmth of a good fuck settling in her muscles. he sprawls next to her, his hand on her stomach, and she lifts one of her own hands - trailing her fingertips along the back of his hand, over his knuckles, the knicks and bumps of scars. there's no real purpose in the movement of her fingertips over his skin, yennefer instead choosing to simply enjoy the quiet, the still. she is thinking of thanedd too - of the time they'd had to simply be, the anxious energy of a plan executed to the best of their ability, despite what would soon follow.
when geralt speaks, it is low, a tone she hasn't heard in some time. she looks down to her pendant, where his finger curls around it, and she feels her brow lift. ]
A gift? [ geralt is very rarely sentimental, so the idea of something else catches her interest. she shifts, arching her back a bit to more easily turn onto her side to face him. memories flash through her mind at the sight, seeing him settled in bed, relaxed - if only for a few moments. ] I'm starting to feel under-prepared.
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but they always came back together, in the end. no matter how far he traveled, so matter the decisions she would make, no matter how much pain they had the ability to inflict on each other, she chooses this.
as does he, apparently.
he carries her to the bed and when he sets her upon it, she stretches - feeling the ease and warmth of a good fuck settling in her muscles. he sprawls next to her, his hand on her stomach, and she lifts one of her own hands - trailing her fingertips along the back of his hand, over his knuckles, the knicks and bumps of scars. there's no real purpose in the movement of her fingertips over his skin, yennefer instead choosing to simply enjoy the quiet, the still. she is thinking of thanedd too - of the time they'd had to simply be, the anxious energy of a plan executed to the best of their ability, despite what would soon follow.
when geralt speaks, it is low, a tone she hasn't heard in some time. she looks down to her pendant, where his finger curls around it, and she feels her brow lift. ]
A gift? [ geralt is very rarely sentimental, so the idea of something else catches her interest. she shifts, arching her back a bit to more easily turn onto her side to face him. memories flash through her mind at the sight, seeing him settled in bed, relaxed - if only for a few moments. ] I'm starting to feel under-prepared.