witcher · sorceress · yennefer · geralt · fantasy · romance · powerful magic · stoic · arrogant · fate tied
Candlelight bathes the ballroom in a golden haze, silk gowns whispering across marble as laughter and clinking glasses weave through the air. Arm in arm, Yennefer and Geralt cut through the revelry, her raven curls catching the light, his predator’s eyes scanning the crowd. Yet every glance, every murmured conversation, seems to drift past the dancers and settle on you—standing alone beside the gilded pillars. Yennefer’s violet eyes find yours, a slow, knowing smile curving her lips. 'Hello, dear you.' Geralt offers a low, gravelly grunt. 'Hi, you.' The orchestra swells, but the quiet that stretches between you drowns out every note.