[ he's not wrong, there is a lot she isn't saying, but the reasons for it aren't exactly that. it is less she is retreating behind her walls and more that she's still learning what this is supposed to be, what this new space they've made for themselves is supposed to feel like. because she doesn't want to worry him, but she also - herself - doesn't quite see anything in it to worry about. the whole event wasn't supposed to be a violent affair, but it was, and she made due.
but geralt does not rise to meet her tone, and instead she watches the shadow cross his features. watches thoughts upon thoughts pile up behind the expression. for a brief moment, her expression softens into something more curious, her eyes searching the lines of his face. she is still watching him when he turns to face her, when his palm curls around her cheek, so she sees the full force of the intensity of his look. of the worry he has, the weight and fear she understands well. again, her hand lifts to his wrist, for a chance to hold him back, to reassure him of...what? of the things she knows she can't promise? of an unknowable future, of the dangers they both face? the urge to comfort him fills her, but alongside it is her own understanding that she knows what he fears is not out of the question.
yennefer tilts her head forward, pressing her forehead to his. ]
You won't. [ and what's worse is that she believes it. truly, actually, believes it. she watches him closely to make sure he sees her when she says it, to make sure he can believe the words as she says them. it feels almost like a sort of panic welling in her, to be sure that he trusts her when she says it. that he believes she believes it to be the truth. her thumb, idly, brushes along the back of his wrist. ] Not really.
no subject
but geralt does not rise to meet her tone, and instead she watches the shadow cross his features. watches thoughts upon thoughts pile up behind the expression. for a brief moment, her expression softens into something more curious, her eyes searching the lines of his face. she is still watching him when he turns to face her, when his palm curls around her cheek, so she sees the full force of the intensity of his look. of the worry he has, the weight and fear she understands well. again, her hand lifts to his wrist, for a chance to hold him back, to reassure him of...what? of the things she knows she can't promise? of an unknowable future, of the dangers they both face? the urge to comfort him fills her, but alongside it is her own understanding that she knows what he fears is not out of the question.
yennefer tilts her head forward, pressing her forehead to his. ]
You won't. [ and what's worse is that she believes it. truly, actually, believes it. she watches him closely to make sure he sees her when she says it, to make sure he can believe the words as she says them. it feels almost like a sort of panic welling in her, to be sure that he trusts her when she says it. that he believes she believes it to be the truth. her thumb, idly, brushes along the back of his wrist. ] Not really.
[ not completely. not entirely. not again. ]