To Heal A Lonely Heart

He's Our Guest

When I reached the bedroom, Geralt was sitting on the chest at the foot of our bed, already undressed to his underwear, his clothes in a neat pile. But instead of enjoying the sight, I couldn't help but notice new scars, small ones, but still... I didn't like it, seeing him leave, not knowing where or how he is, and come back after weeks, covered in new scars every time.

I walked over to him and traced the new scars, still bright pink against his pale skin, on his arm with my finger.

"I could make them disappear," I whispered.

My husband sighed. "No. They're part of me. Of what I am. A reminder of what I was created for. And I can't escape that, as much as I would want to."

I let my hand wander up his arm, along his shoulder and the side of his neck, gently cupping his jaw, letting my thumb caress his cheekbone, my eyes meeting his.

"You are so much more than just a Witcher, minne. So much more. To these people, to the man downstairs, to me. To me you are my life, ever since you decided not to take it from me. I love you, more than anything in this world, Geralt," I breathed.

When he didn't respond, I started to pull back, to prepare his – on a side note, much needed – bath. But he stopped me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back to him, his hands resting on the small of my back. I put my hands on his chest for balance.

"I love you too. Thank you, Nienna," Geralt muttered, dipping his head down to give me a gentle kiss.

"For what exactly? I do so much for you..." I teased, giggling, his stubble tickling my face.

"For coming into my life. By now, I don't know what I'd do without you," he mumbled against my lips.

I pulled my head back a little, laughing. "If I'm not mistaking, you came into my life. You broke into my cottage, remember?"

Geralt rolled his eyes. "For the last time: the door was open," he groaned.

"It wasn't," I protested, "I know I-"

But I was shut up with a pair of plump lips crashing on mine. A hand on the nape of my neck pulled me closer, and I eagerly complied, melting into my husband's embrace, our lips moulding in perfect sync.

Soon enough the kiss became more heated, teeth pulling on lips, tongues fighting for dominance. But before we could get too carried away, I pulled back, panting for air.

"We're not alone, remember?" I murmured, resting my forehead against Geralt's.

"Hm, yeah," he groaned. "We could still throw him out," he then suggested with a playful glint in his honey-coloured eyes.

"No!" I protested, trying hard to hold back a laugh, "He's our guest! And our friend. You will not throw him out! Geralt, I swear!"

He huffed, amused at my outburst, smiling at me with a love-drunk expression that I just wanted to kiss out of his face. He could drive me crazy sometimes!

"I'll go make your bath now," I stated, trying to step away from him, but he still held me close to him. I sighed, turned my head towards him and pressed one last kiss to his lips, and finally, he let me go, following close behind me as I walked towards the washroom.

I filled the bathtub with steaming water and turned to leave.

"You're not staying?" Geralt pouted, jokingly.

"As much as I would love to, I don't fully trust Jaskier with the food," I told him. "And I'm pretty sure you can wash yourself without my help," I added with a smirk and cocked brow.