Eyes of Honesty | ~ Geralt of Rivia ~

Chapter 8 Morning Light

Geralt woke the next morning with Faye pressed against his side, her chin resting just above his shoulder. His cloak tucked around them both. Her hands wrapped around his arm. Her breast pressed firmly against his bicep. He rolled his eyes and sighed. He was being tortured, punished for some misdeed. How else do you explain his internal battle to not ravish this beautiful goddess. Geralt laid there on his back and listened to her heart, focused on her slow breaths that fanned his neck. What was happening to him? He had never had a relationship form so easily before. Never welcomed the companionship of another so willingly. Never been around someone so gentle and kind who wanted to be with him. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard Faye yawn. She opened her eyes and saw that he was awake.

“Warm enough?” Geralt asked, smirking, his eyes amused as he stared up at the sky.

“Yeah, once I realized you were holding out on me, you’re like a witcher hot box.” She yawned again and sat up. “I hope I didn’t offend any of your sensibilities kind sir, I promise your virtue is still intact.” She teased, watching his face for a reaction. He rolled his eyes and sat up beside her. 

“It better be or you’d be forced to wed me.” He said getting to his feet, not gracing her with a glance backwards.

She laughed as she watched his retreating back. She looked down with a small smile still on her lips. Geralt was like no one she had ever met before. He was rough around the edges but kinder and better than most anyone she ever knew. With some contemplation last night Faye had realized that he stopped things from progressing further last night for her sake. He demonstrated that he clearly wanted her, but he was hesitating for her sake. After her crazy hormones calmed down last night she realized she was just listening to her body and not her head. But even in the light of day she didn’t think she would have regretted anything that happened between them. She had never felt so much desire nor welcomed the desire of another before.

Faye helped gather up the supplies and walked Geralt’s cloak over to him. He took it without looking at her and chucked it over Roach and he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“Something wrong, Witcher?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, watching him intently. 

“No.”

“Geralt.” She admonished her eyes knowing, he finally turned to look at her, his eyes piercing. Her breath caught in her throat and without conscious effort she stepped close to him, her hand reaching out to caress the side of his face.

He growled and she found herself in his arms, his large hands wrapped around her arms, but all he did was stare at her. 

Faye leaned up towards him and gently pressed her lips against his. He groaned and relaxed immediately, dragging her closer against his hard body. 

He growled again and pulled his mouth away from hers. 

“What are we doing?” He asked, his voice rough, his eyes wild, searching her for some unknown answer.

“Kissing?” She supplied uncertainty in a soft whisper. 

Geralt’s eyes raked over her face, her lips were parted and her cheeks prettily pinked. And her eyes, those eyes, aquamarine, bright and beautiful, but fading to teal in her uncertainty. A self deprecating laugh left his lips, but he still didn’t release his hold on her. 

“Geralt, I like you, I like being around you. I like touching you.” She leaned her forehead against his chest. “Please can we just enjoy each other's company while we have it?” She shifted to rub her cheek against his chest, she loved the earthy smell of him, he smelled like the woods, like cedar and something she couldn’t place but it was powerful and alluring. His arms moved up to cradle her to him, his nose buried in her hair.

“Fine, but just know you drive me crazy.” 

“I don’t think you were too far from that anyway.” She pulled away smiling cheekily at him. 

He leaned down and gently kissed her once more. He pulled away and returned to tightening the riding bags to Roach. He appeared calm, collected, the tension left his body and the air surrounding them.

They ate breakfast in companionable silence before riding onward. 

Faye was feeling more comfortable on Roach but still held onto Geralt. He didn't seem to mind and she enjoyed the excuse to touch him. To feel the muscles of his stomach beneath her fingers. To listen to his slow steady heartbeat when she'd press her ear against his back. To feel his warmth sink into her skin.

As they rode Faye began to ponder on her feelings for the Witcher. Geralt didn’t seem interested in changing her. He liked her just the way she came, she had never experienced that before. She had never really felt accepted by anyone, always someone’s burden or property. Most of the druids cared for her, but she didn’t fit in. The last time she felt like she belonged was when she was little and spent her days playing with her younger brother, Noel. While it had been nearly 14 years ago she still looked back on those memories fondly. It’s why she latched onto this harebrained plan of hers. Some part of her thought that if she found Noel she could pretend the last 14 years didn’t exist. That she could be with her kin and find her freedom, be accepted again. She didn’t even allow the thought to register that Noel would want nothing to do with her. She had to hold out for hope.