Tender Mind | Yandere Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Chapter 10

It's been five days since I barricaded myself in my room, not setting foot outside. Who would after what I had experienced? I felt vile, my skin still remembering the disgusting feeling of those pigs touching me. Scratching my hands and legs, there were soon small drops of blood running down my body.

"Ah, it reopened again..."

The now even deeper scratches that were trying to heal as much as possible overnight were once more flowing with my crimson life. I haven't eaten much, mainly throwing the leftovers out the window so that whenever Wendy came to collect the dishes she wouldn't stress herself over how I had eaten nearly nothing. Even if I did eat it, I would throw it all up. My stomach was constantly acting up lately. The sickening feeling of those men touching me kept me up late at night. My face was exhausted, with dark circles under my eyes. I have also become thinner. Not considerately, but still. It was a sign I wasn't eating enough, but I couldn't bring myself to eat more.

"(Y/N), please...."

My head shot up, looking at whoever spoke my name. Geralt? ...Or is that Vesemir? My eyesight was blurry, I couldn't make the person out. All I saw was ashen hair and a tall, muscular posture. Were they getting closer? Or was it just my mind? I felt in again, and my hands started automatically moving up and down. Straining themselves in more blood before cutting my nails deeper into the flesh. That feeling, the feeling of THEM burned my skin.

"Dirty, it's so dirty..."

I muttered to myself, scrubbing harder.

"My skin is dirty..."

Again, the figure seemed to move forward, now lowering itself on one knee to be on the same eye level with the sitting me. Their hand seemed to reach out to my face, before halting in its movement. Did they change their mind?

"I have to get rid of the dirt under my skin..."

A soft sigh left their lips, but something wasn't right. It seemed troubled, pitiful maybe? The hand, still outstretched as if contemplating whenever to go along with the plan or retreat for now.

"Come here..."

The hand slipped behind my head, leading it slightly forward to rest on someone's shoulder. My hands stopped, but not because I willed them to. Someone was holing them, pressing them together with their own. A string, a whisper of sweet words and promises filled the small room. Their melody lulling me to sleep as I felt the fabric of my blouse's sleeves disappear around the area of my scratches. The deep burning feeling was replaced with something cool, yet soft. Something small, that traveled up and down my hurt arms. Were those lips?

"I will make sure to clean them for you before you wake up, so don't worry and get some rest..."

That voice.

"Geralt?"