[ the relief of distraction sears through the tendrils of anxiety — his and hers, how quaint — gripping her. like tethers, cast off, and when his mouth closes over her skin, her head drops back in rapture and peace. for a time, let it be uncomplicated. he has worn this path over decades and he knows it well. traces his footsteps carefully, wringing sighs from her like water.
an old path, but it feels new. alcohol on a cut, scouring a wound that feels simultaneously recent and far away. she does not give of herself easily, and she had diligently fooled them both into believing she was at no such risk with him. that kinship and cooperation might be only that. now they are as tangled as she and geralt had been, and she has no one to blame. in that way, it feels like the resolving of a long-held chord.
yennefer grinds herself against his mouth, clinging tight. that other woman she had been, the cardinal, had been afraid to hold him too tight. holding too tight to things only ensured they would slip away. but he is still here, isn't he? if it's inevitable that he slip away, better she enjoy him before he does.
there are stars behind her eyelids. how long has she gone without seeing stars? yet she forces her eyes back open anyway, banishing them. stilling, breathing hard, she says, ] Not yet. [ she wouldn't want to risk the end of this. she would deny them both any kind of reprieve if it meant dragging this out. ]
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an old path, but it feels new. alcohol on a cut, scouring a wound that feels simultaneously recent and far away. she does not give of herself easily, and she had diligently fooled them both into believing she was at no such risk with him. that kinship and cooperation might be only that. now they are as tangled as she and geralt had been, and she has no one to blame. in that way, it feels like the resolving of a long-held chord.
yennefer grinds herself against his mouth, clinging tight. that other woman she had been, the cardinal, had been afraid to hold him too tight. holding too tight to things only ensured they would slip away. but he is still here, isn't he? if it's inevitable that he slip away, better she enjoy him before he does.
there are stars behind her eyelids. how long has she gone without seeing stars? yet she forces her eyes back open anyway, banishing them. stilling, breathing hard, she says, ] Not yet. [ she wouldn't want to risk the end of this. she would deny them both any kind of reprieve if it meant dragging this out. ]