Chapter 17: Girls Outing

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*Unedited

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"𝓦𝓪𝓼  it difficult ridding yourself of the Witcher?"

A long sigh rushes from my parted lips, "'Difficult' is one way to describe it."

Yennefer raises a delicately shaped eyebrow and waves a hand for me to elaborate.

"He chose to depart from Kaer Morhen with me," I explain, "And we parted ways near Piana."

The mage tuts and loops her arm through mine. Her voice is laced with heavy sarcasm, "Nessa dear, I do believe you are losing your gift for storytelling."

She doesn't bat an eyelash at my glare, simply examines the finely manicured nails of her free hand.

With a huff, I grumble, "The insufferable man refused to let me leave."

My gaze drifts off to our surroundings. Light glistens off the still waters of the Pontar River. The cloudless skies reflect a brilliant blue broken by the sandstone tan reflections of the walls that lead down to the mud shore. But soon my sight glazes over as the memories bombard me.

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Geralt's hand grips Death's reins, while his body blocks me from mounting her. We have reached a standstill. No words have been spoken in what feels like ages. The only sounds are the crickets and rustling of leaves.

Despite having faced off the most harrowing of foes, I find my steel spine crumbling under his scrutiny. My palms find his biceps and I take a tentative step closer to him. I notice a flicker of warmth enter his golden eyes.

With a sigh, I gently say, "It will only be for a few days."

His lips tighten into a frown, "You cannot promise me that."

My mouth opens but no sound escapes. I swallow before replying, "But I can promise that I will return to you as fast as I am able."

Leather squeaks under the Witcher's ever-constricting fist, "For you that could mean months."

I prepare to respond when he interrupts me, "And do not tell me that months are nothing to people like us."

Despite it being true, I am not petulant enough to voice that thought. Instead, I say, "I can only vow to do my best, Geralt. To me, the passing of time is of no consequence. Out of my respect for you, I am trying. Is that not enough?"

His emotionless demeanor falls, "It is. You are enough. But..."

My throat tightens and sorrow shivers through me as I choke out, "But?"

The White Wolf huffs and his arms slowly wrap around me. Our embrace says what he cannot: But I will miss you.

We remain standing there until the sun begins to disappear below the tree line. No more words are necessary. Golden light flickers saffron, then red, then a dark plum. Finally, I reluctantly pull away to place a sweet kiss upon his lips. When we separate, I swivel to mount Death but an arm stops me.

Geralt swiftly spins me and yanks me into his chest as his mouth meets mine once more. This time with desperation, as though he is afraid this could be our last moments together. Heat simmers below my skin, akin to the sparks of magic that live within me. But all too soon, the man steps away.

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 26 ⏰

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