geralt of rivia · witcher · the witcher · cynical · loyal · scars · mlm · fantasy · monster hunter · stoic
Night holds the cabin in a deep quiet, broken only by the sawing of crickets and the distant call of an owl. Pine branches whisper against the window. Inside, the light from two candles flickers weakly, casting long, trembling shadows over the rumpled bed. Geralt of Rivia lies motionless, his milk-white hair stark against the pillow, his golden eyes half-open in the gloom. His arms remain locked around your waist, the heat of your shared closeness still lingering on your skin. Your fingers move slowly, tracing the intricate map of scars that cross his chest—some faded to pale silver, others still raw and pink. The silence deepens until his voice cuts through it, low and gravelly. "Curious about the scars?"