Shift My World (Witcher x Reader fanfic)

Chapter 18

She felt as if she couldn't breathe. Like her lungs couldn't expand enough to allow oxygen into her body. Her world faded and her vision blurred around everything but those damned golden eyes staring at her with liquid fire that burned into her skull so tangible she swore she could feel its heat licking at her skin. What could she say that didn't make her sound like a liar? That didn't make the man sitting beside her hate her very existence. The answer was nothing. Nothing she could say would regain his trust. Because despite him voicing the million-dollar question out in the open between them; they both damn well knew what the answer was. The thing was, he was forcing her to answer it regardless. Whether for punishment or his sanity to hear it with his own two ears. But she couldn't. She just couldn't. Instead, her trembling hands that felt clamming and cold gripped the fabric of her blanket like a lifeline as if trying to ground herself in a place she knew would not hold stability.

"I can't." her voice shook as her lip trembled "Please, Geralt, don't make me-"

"Answer. The. Question." Geralt's was tense as he leaned closer with eyes ablaze; never once blinking as he stared her down. His form despite sitting down to her level was intimidating; like a wolf cornered and ready to spring.

Olivia swallowed harshly around the lump in her throat; her mouth dry and scratchy as she did so but she couldn't look away from his piercing stare even when his image blurred when her tears welled in her blue eyes. Better off then at least she didn't have to look into the anger that shone clear on his face - nor the disappointment and betrayal that lurked behind the gleam in his eyes that cut her to the quick more than any dagger or blade ever could.

"No." her voice was a mere whisper; that one word filling with anguish "I'm not." 

He didn't say anything to her reply. Her answer hung heavy between them. She could feel the coolness as his fiery gaze finally pulled away from her face to fall onto the book that he had minutes before set down on the nightstand beside her. When he did not say anything she took action by reaching out towards him to grab his wrist despite the fear that lurked heavily inside of her.

"Geralt I swear it wasn't my intention to keep the truth from you. I just didn't know how to tell you-"

Geralt rose from his seat abruptly; tearing his wrist from her grasp in the process as he loomed over her threateningly. A finger pointing at her as he spits venom at her that she knew was justified at that moment. 

"You lied to me, Olivia! You've traveled with me for 2 decades! 20 fucking years and you kept this from me the entire time!" his voice raised and the woman's face paled. "I should have known someone was up when you never aged. You still looked as young as you did when I first met you...and you're knowledge...your fucking stories you told always undertoned to something that didn't make sense. Names and phrases that we don't fucking use."

She watched as he pulled away and back away from her bedside. She didn't want him to be angry with her; she was scared of his anger but she didn't know how she could calm him down. Scrambling from the bed and ignoring the burn of her straining muscles that were still trying to heal. 

"Geralt please let me explain! I swear I was going to tell you about where I came from; I just didn't know how to do it without you thinking I was crazy!" 

Her yelp of surprise and fear lodged in her throat as the man's powerful body lurched towards her; a large hand wrapping around her slender neck and pinning her back against one of the walls. The cold stone made her shudder as she looked up with fear and regret in her eyes as she stared into the gold pools fuming down at her just mere inches from her own making her vision all consuming by his eyes.

His jaw worked a second; clenching and unclenching making the tendons of his neck strain as he studied her face trying to come up with words to express what he was feeling but Geralt was never good at expressing his feelings nor was he good with words. He was a man of action more than he was of words, and those actions were always of violence. But this woman was different; she wasn't a monster that he could slay and be done with it. So he knew as his face morphed into a snarl; teeth bared that despite the pain of betrayal that he felt he was digging his own grave as he spoke; his words trembling with barely contained fury and hurt.