[ Dean follows—of course Dean follows—and the intense urge to throw him out rises inside him. He swallows it down. It's not that he never expected anyone to stumble on that room. It exists. It's bound to happen.
But he did not anticipate anyone being inside it. Certainly not Dean.
The accusatory edge doesn't help. Nor does the fact that Geralt's grip on his temper as of late has been far more tenuous. He can't explain it. He knows about the dream. He does. He saw what visited him. But it doesn't feel foreign, how icy hot his blood flares, dark thoughts that he can't keep at bay. It is not as if he hasn't been here before. He's just—
It feels like he's backsliding. And Dean is too easy of a target before he can think twice. He whirls around. ] The fuck do you think, Dean?
[ Need he explain why? He's fairly damn sure the answer's bright as day. ]
no subject
But he did not anticipate anyone being inside it. Certainly not Dean.
The accusatory edge doesn't help. Nor does the fact that Geralt's grip on his temper as of late has been far more tenuous. He can't explain it. He knows about the dream. He does. He saw what visited him. But it doesn't feel foreign, how icy hot his blood flares, dark thoughts that he can't keep at bay. It is not as if he hasn't been here before. He's just—
It feels like he's backsliding. And Dean is too easy of a target before he can think twice. He whirls around. ] The fuck do you think, Dean?
[ Need he explain why? He's fairly damn sure the answer's bright as day. ]