Make Me Feel Again ♕ Geralt Of Rivia

nine .

E L E A N O R A

Night has fallen. We rarely ever travel at night. If it were any other day, we would have found a spot to set up camp by now, but Geralt seems hell-bent on prevailing on into the devil's hour.

He has my hands tucked into his pockets, like he always does to keep them warm in the chilly weather.

Neither of us spoke. Truth be told, Gor didn't have to say a word, for the silence told me everything I needed to know. Still, I wanted him to get it off his chest. God knows Gor was never a sentimental guy and would rather get disembowelled, spilling his guts literally rather than figuratively. But he always would eventually. He just needed a little nudge.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I ask, my voice seeming achingly loud in the dead of the night.

Gor doesn't say anything. Instead, he keeps his eyes glued to the endless depths of pitch darkness before us.

I let out a sigh, leaning into his back. "Are we not going to talk about what happened?"

This time, Gor does speak. However, it wasn't the reply I was hoping for.

"This seems like a good spot." He says, dismounting from Roach's back before reaching for our blankets tucked away inside our saddlebags and laying them over the ground.

I swing my leg over Roach's back, letting both of them hang off her side.

"That was certainly a nice talk." I sass, "I'm glad we got that out of the way."

"What do you want me to say, El? That I killed her? Is that what you wanted to hear?" Gor snaps, turning back to glare at my with his set of piercing eyes, making me squirm under their sheer intensity.

I roll my shoulders back, tilting my chin up at Gor defiantly and ironing out my features into a stoic mask. "Why'd you do it?"

"Why do you always have to do this?" He counters.

"Because!" I hop off of Roach's back, losing my slight height advantage on Gor as I close the spade between us, forcing him to meet my eyes. "I don't think it's healthy for you to keep your feelings bottled up."

Gor scoffs bitterly, "My feelings? I don't have feelings, Eleanora."

Eleanora. I wince at the way he says my name, the way he spat it out like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Well, I disagree." I argue, "I think you have a whole lot of them."

"Congratulations, El. That'll make you the first and only person who'd be naive enough to think that way."

I rear back at his jab as if he'd just physically slapped me across the face and guilt immediately washes over Geralt's face as he catches my reaction.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I stomp forward, getting all up in his face this time.

"You know what, Geralt?" I jab my finger into his chest, "If you want to think that makes me naive then go right ahead. But I for one think that's a whole load of fucking bullshit. I know you more than you realise, Geralt. I know how you think you've done all these monstrous things and so that makes you unworthy of whatever good life has to offer you, but you're wrong."