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( DON'T BLAME ME, LOVE MADE ME CRAZY )
[ yennefer has every intention of finally escaping geralt. she storms away from the roadside, uncaring if it means she now has to navigate the terrain alone until she stumbles upon a tavern and finds herself in the company of irritating people. she'll do it to spite him. yennefer's done plenty in her life to spite those around her, and she's won each and every time.
but after a good ten to twenty minutes, she slows her angry stomping. the earth doesn't quite shake beneath her feet as it did when she had spun away from him and flitted away from the roadside like the tornado he claims her to be. she begins to settle down, losing her wind. hardly regretting a moment of her own anger towards him, yennefer finds herself regretting much more.
telling geralt about her wish to be important to someone had cracked her open like the earth beneath the foot of an invisible giant. even as she tries to patch that gap so it no longer exists, a hairline fracture remains in its wake. she hates him for what he's taken from her. free will, her desire to belong—she doesn't want to be trapped in anyone's orbit but her own.
she takes a seat along thick round logs, back to the main road as she peers over the cliffside. all she sees is endless and unconquered terrain. it's looking out at the heads of trees that she decides her next plan of action. if she wants to spite geralt, she knows it's best to do it in front of his face.
she waits patiently for him to eventually arrive. she has no doubt that he won't. after all, didn't he wish for her? he's bound to find her once again.
the quiet's disrupted by the familiar clopping of roach's hooves. she listens carefully as he comes within earshot, his footfalls familiar and strong. she doesn't hear the sliding feet of jaskier trailing behind him pathetically. yennefer doesn't allow herself to feel pity for him losing jaskier. he deserved it.
she refuses to look at him, keeping her gaze straight ahead. she knows he'll stop. geralt is nothing if not inescapable. ] Did you piss off Jaskier, too? [ she scoffs, shaking her head. ] What a day you're having, Witcher.
but after a good ten to twenty minutes, she slows her angry stomping. the earth doesn't quite shake beneath her feet as it did when she had spun away from him and flitted away from the roadside like the tornado he claims her to be. she begins to settle down, losing her wind. hardly regretting a moment of her own anger towards him, yennefer finds herself regretting much more.
telling geralt about her wish to be important to someone had cracked her open like the earth beneath the foot of an invisible giant. even as she tries to patch that gap so it no longer exists, a hairline fracture remains in its wake. she hates him for what he's taken from her. free will, her desire to belong—she doesn't want to be trapped in anyone's orbit but her own.
she takes a seat along thick round logs, back to the main road as she peers over the cliffside. all she sees is endless and unconquered terrain. it's looking out at the heads of trees that she decides her next plan of action. if she wants to spite geralt, she knows it's best to do it in front of his face.
she waits patiently for him to eventually arrive. she has no doubt that he won't. after all, didn't he wish for her? he's bound to find her once again.
the quiet's disrupted by the familiar clopping of roach's hooves. she listens carefully as he comes within earshot, his footfalls familiar and strong. she doesn't hear the sliding feet of jaskier trailing behind him pathetically. yennefer doesn't allow herself to feel pity for him losing jaskier. he deserved it.
she refuses to look at him, keeping her gaze straight ahead. she knows he'll stop. geralt is nothing if not inescapable. ] Did you piss off Jaskier, too? [ she scoffs, shaking her head. ] What a day you're having, Witcher.
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[He murmurs against her skin, soft and warm. It doesn't feel like it should have his rough, calloused hands on it. Undeserving of the gifts she hides under her dresses.
But..]
If you didn't want me here, you'd make me leave. [And he would. His hands start to pull at the laces of her bodice, drawing her dress open until he can slip it off her.
He wants her now, but..]
I take it you'll want the damned bath now?
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yennefer smiles. ] I do.
[ and if it'll frustrate him? even better. she doesn't try and stop him from undressing her. she wants her bath and she doesn't want to have it alone. but asking—or demanding—he comes with her only means that he gets what he wants… and yennefer wants to torture geralt just a little.
despite how tempting it is to glance over her shoulder at him, yennefer doesn't. she looks straight ahead and smiles, all the while knowing he won't see it. ]
Are you going to draw it? Or must I do everything?
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He steps back, frowning even though he has the lovely view of her. He sheds his boots and his shirts, he'll work on his pants later. For now, he's going to step toward the big, empty tub and give her a dull look.]
I thought you'd be magicking in some perfumed water from the springs of a faraway land.
[Aka, I'm lazy you do it.]
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yennefer gives him a slow once-over, uncaring if he catches her. geralt may be an oaf at times, but he's a very handsome, well-built oaf who isn't so horrible to look at. while other women may faint at the mere sight of his ghastly muscles and frightening golden eyes, yennefer experiences the very opposite. ]
You're very lazy, Witcher.
[ and when yennefer steps out of the clothing piled at her feet, she walks to the tub nake, brushing by him passive aggresively. she'll draw herself a fucking bath and make him smell like the sweetest flower his teeth rot. ]
Take off your trousers unless you need me to do that for you, too.
[ standing at the tub, she holds her hands out and does as he suggests—she calls forth the most perfumed water he'll ever smell. perhaps being overwhelmed by the scent will finally kill him. ]
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He grits his teeth as it spills into the tub, but he's unlacing his pants all the same. Being ordered to do so is a secret thrill and he's reasonably sure she's already figured it out.
His trousers drop to the ground and he steps over beside her, holding out his hands as if he means to help her into the tub like a servant would help a royal.]
After you.
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yennefer easily slips into the tub—and does so graciously—and with her arms on the lips, she peers up at him and cocks her brow. and gives him another once-over.
she's allowed. she's pissed at him. ]
I've changed my mind. You can stay there
[ be eye candy. ]
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He'll never ask, so he shouldn't let it confuse him. Best not to question a good thing, particularly not when it comes from Yen.
Geralt grunts, but allows her eyes to linger before he plods forward. His descent into the tub is less graceful and easy, water sloshes over the side as he lowers himself into it.]
Come a long way from making me turn around.
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Would you like to turn around? [ she cocks her brow and smiles. she lifts her hand and gestures for him to do just that. ] Be my guest if it's what you wish.
[ fun choice of words. yennefer doesn't downturn the corner of her lips. geralt being literally naked only means that he's wearing fewer masks. ]
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He fishes for one of her feet, lifting it with some care not to touch the ticklish parts. His thumbs start to knead against the ball of her foot, absolutely a gesture restricted for her. He has no particular interest in her foot, but he does have a particular interest in doing things that might earn him a crumb of praise.]
We've got a long walk ahead of us.
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but he has nice hands—and he knows what to do with those bloody hands. she doesn't wish to melt, so she does her best to hide it beneath sharp prickliness.
she cocks her brow, ] Do you not think my feet can handle the trek?
[ who is she if she doesn't needle him? ]
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He's an oaf, but he'd like to imagine he challenges her enough to keep her interested. Even if that challenge is enticing her to resist how good a foot rub feels when you've been walking around mountains and rocky terrains for days.]
Not without a callous or two. [He warns.] Might need to start wearing practical shoes. What will you do?