[ It's good she does; Geralt's not sure he can take it, hearing platitudes. He turns to look at her instead as her fingers brush his jaw. Her gaze is soft and on anyone else, he would hate it. It would feel like pity. But he knows Yennefer. She doesn't do pity. Not when it comes to him.
He brushes a thumb over her cheek. For a moment, he lets her presence steady him. He does his best to keep his own emotions from overwhelming the ties between them—though whether he succeeds is another matter.
When she draws away, he lets her. The salve in the water has eased the rawness of the burns, no longer aching so sharply. ]
I know. [ That much is true. It's not anyone who can spend the better part of their years keeping up with a Witcher. ] But some things are beyond strength.
no subject
He brushes a thumb over her cheek. For a moment, he lets her presence steady him. He does his best to keep his own emotions from overwhelming the ties between them—though whether he succeeds is another matter.
When she draws away, he lets her. The salve in the water has eased the rawness of the burns, no longer aching so sharply. ]
I know. [ That much is true. It's not anyone who can spend the better part of their years keeping up with a Witcher. ] But some things are beyond strength.