HEART | Geralt

02

(pls comment and vote)

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"Azalea!" Being shaken awake, a woman that looked to be in her mid-twenties shot upright. Her slightly curled dark hair fell forwards, covering the left side of her face to be out of sight for a hideous scar ran down from her forehead to her chin. Her left eye okay, miraculously, but the scar only proved to make her look more deadly that ever before.

Her eyes, a scarlett red, were slit like a cat's eyes and were squinting at the man that practically loomed over her. His own golden, cat slit eyes stared at her in worry; an emotion he showed to few, mainly being her.

She grunted and shoved the man away, not in a rude way, but when she had awoken from replaying that unfortunate day, she'd rather be alone. In doing so, she wouldn't run the risk of snapping harshly at her friend, nor would she worry about offending him or making him believe she was the worst company possible.

"You ever gonna talk about it?" He asked in a deep voice, the sound rumbling off of his chest and wrapping itself around Azalea. She could only sigh and look away slightly, looking off into the woodland in hopes she'd see the violet eyed girl running towards her as best she could, grinning and crying and calling out her name.

But, alas, it had been around seventy odd years since that day, and Azalea looked like she had barely aged past the year she turned twenty-six. Obviously, she aged it was just incredibly slow due to the mutagens she had been exposed to and, somehow by some miracle or fate, survived.

"No." Her voice wasn't strong like usual, it cracked and showed a vulnerability Azalea rarely allowed to show. "How long until we make for Blaviken?"

"We have to kill the Kikimora first." Upon the words leaving his mouth, a groan was then heard and it made him chuckle. He was always baffled as to hearing Azalea made sounds of annoyance at the mention of slaying a monster. Of doing a job they were both trained for.

"Geralt, sweetie, can we not have one fuckin' day off?"

"We had a day off yesterday." He replied curtly, grinning almost mischievously as he made his way over to collect his things from around the small campsite they had made.

Once Geralt was all packed up, Azalea had been made to pack up her stuff as well, to pack it onto her dark stallion of a horse she could never think of a name for. Geralt and Azalea had traveled the continent for decades together, becoming closer than entwisted vines once it was made clear that Azalea had passed the Trial of the Grasses. 

Due to this feat alone, any Witcher who knew her name, her looks and her unmistakeable eyes nodded their respects, for being the only female Witcher would grant you some form of respect on their part. She was just glad that Vesemir had been kind enough to encourage her each step of the way, soon doing so with Geralt as the white haired, golden eyed Witcher took a liking to her. 

"That day off we spent making our asses sore on horseback." Azalea quipped, rolling her eyes as she strapped her two swords onto her back. One silver and one steel. 

"Stop complaining." Geralt huffed at her, something that caused the red eyed beauty to scowl. The friends were close, closer than anyone could imagine and even that close that they could be mistaken for a couple.

"You know what, Ger?" She called, turning and placing her hands onto her hips. Her fingers grazed the belt she wore to ensure her trouser's - that were almost skin tight and yet had an unexplainable amount of flexibility - would stay up and not fall. Her dark blouse was tucked into her trousers with armour over the top, a cloak then draped onto her shoulders. "I'll stop complaining when you stop grunting for answers." Geralt grunted, rolling his eyes as he turned around.