She couldn't believe she'd almost kissed him while they were in the bath and NAKED. It had to have been from the heat of the moment, there was no other feasible explanation as to why she would want to kiss him. She'd never kissed, nor been with someone so intimately before. Her hormones were probably going crazy being around someone so attractive as him and her body was probably picking up on his pheromones. That was it, it had to be. It's not like she actually liked him or anything, that would be insane.
But was it any more insane than her current situation? Being hunted by a murderous queen, traveling the kingdom with an alcoholic dwarf and strangely attractive Witcher, a Witcher she was currently laying next to in a bed that had been defiled by the alcoholic dwarf and a questionable woman.
The answer was no. Liking him would not be more insane considering everything else. Liking him would be surprising and possibly a problem if her feelings escalated from just liking to loving. Liking him would be a risk and adventure she wasn't quite sure she wanted to have. Liking him would be new and exciting, something she could do without due to her current situation. Liking him would mean consequences she couldn't even begin to imagine. But despite that all, despite everything, liking him was something she knew she couldn't keep denying.
After Garrison had interrupted their possible first kiss by joining them in the bath with his lady friend who took a strong liking to Geralt the moment she laid eyes on him, Anaya had hurried out of the bath with her cloak wrapped tightly around her and ran to their room. To take her mind off what had just happened with Geralt - the looking, the touching, the talking - she changed into a clean dress Geralt had picked up for her from the trading post and cleaned the room as best as she could.
Geralt and Garrison had come in shortly after, conversing about things Anaya wished she hadn't heard.
"Told you she would pay me," Garrison said, tossing a small pouch of coins in the air.
"What could you possibly have done to her that made her pay you, her customer?" Geralt asked, glancing over at Anaya whose eyes had been fixated on the floor from the moment they entered. She couldn't bring herself to make eye contact with him.
"Wouldn't you like to know, Witcher. You may possess many skills I do not, but I have one reserved for only those special ladies whom I wish to spend the night with. Aya could find out... if she wanted to," Garrison said, smirking at Anaya.
"Not in a million years," Anaya said, dryly.
"You'll come around eventually, they all do," Garrison said and then proceeded to climb into the armchair to prepare himself for the night. "Oh, how long it had been since I thrust myself into the depths of a woman!"
"How deep could he have gone?" Geralt said, forcing Anaya to stifle a laugh.
After that, they had blown out most of the candles and gotten into bed which is where they resided now. Anaya hadn't moved in inch after laying next to Geralt and neither had he. She knew he was awake, he wasn't snoring like he had been the previous night, so something was keeping him up making her wonder if it was the same thing keeping her up. Although for her it was both her aching leg and their almost-kiss, she knew it had to have been their encounter in the bath keeping him from sleep.
But was it the fact they'd almost kissed? When he admitted he thought she was beautiful? When she admitted she found him attractive? When she implied he slept around? When she'd splashed him? When he'd grabbed her? When his hands roamed her body and pushed her head towards his lips.
Waaaaiiiiit just a moment!
The almost-kiss wasn't her doing. It wasn't because of her hormones or his pheromones. It was because of him! His hands were the ones doing all the talking. His hand was the one that had slipped into her hair and pushed her head down towards his lips. She hadn't been the one to initiate anything. The almost-kiss was his doing! He wanted it!
But why?
"Geralt," she said, deciding to ask him and find out.
"Aya," he grumbled, his eyes closed, but his mind very much awake.
As she turned her body to face his, she winced from the pain her leg flooded her body with. She was so weak. She hadn't even fallen that hard but was acting as though she'd just gotten her leg amputated.
"Is your leg hurting you?" Geralt said, turning his head to look at her, his eyes showing concern.
"A little," she lied. She was actually in quite a bit of pain, but she didn't want to tell him, a Witcher who probably couldn't even feel a punch to the face. Geralt stepped out of bed to reach into his sac that was lying near the window to pull out a bandage roll.
"Where did you get that from?" Anaya asked, sitting up to rest her back against the headboard.
"You're prone to getting injured," he said, walking over to her side of the bed and taking a seat beside her legs.
"You got those for me?"
"And Garrison, but he really doesn't do much."
"Thank you, Geralt," she said, giving him an appreciative smile.
He nodded and unwinded some of the bandage wrap around his hand. Carefully, he took the end of her dress and pulled it up, causing her to immediately blush.
"I can do it," she said.
"I'm already up," he said and she rolled her eyes.
"It's my right-"
"I know which leg it is," he said. He pulled her dress over her knees where her skin had turned an ugly shade of green and purple and become swollen. With gentle hands, much gentler than she had anticipated, he slowly and carefully wrapped her injured knee.
How had she not seen this before? How had she not noticed this side of him before?
He'd shown it to her numerous times. His concerned eyes when he saved her from the siren, the dagger he gifted her to protect herself, his protective duty over her as he pulled her away from Valdus's prying eyes, the way he admitted to feeling at ease with her in the forest, how he carried her without question, and now this. His heart was not made of ice, he had proven her wrong about that. Behind his cold and hard demeanor that he presented to the world, there was warmth, there was kindness, there was feeling.
"Geralt, why did you want to kiss me?" she asked, looking curiously at the man before her, the man who's eyes had been concentrated with concern towards her injured knee. His hands stopped what they were doing and he glanced up at her with uncertainty before he continued what he was doing.
"What makes you think that?"
"You pushed my head down."
"Don't think I did," he said, finishing up the wrapping.
"You did," Anaya persisted. She knew where his hands had gone, it would have been very difficult to ignore them.
"You fell on top of me. Maybe you hit your head too," he said, pulling her dress down to where it should have been.
"Are you really accusing me of hitting my head rather than admitting you wanted to kiss me?" she laughed, but it wasn't because she found it funny. She laughed because she found it ridiculous he was even trying to deny the fact he wanted to kiss her after he had only just attempted it that day.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, getting off the bed, but before he could, Anaya grabbed his arm and with a strength that even surprised him and pulled him back down. Now, she was angry.
"I can't believe you. You're actually willing to lie to my face about something we both know you tried to do. You tried to kiss me, plain and simple, so stop denying it."
"If I did try to kiss you, which I didn't, then it would be best for you to forget it," Geralt said, his face hard.
"Why? Because I'm a princess and you're a Witcher?"
"Yes."
"You didn't seem to care in the bath."
"Because I was a bit preoccupied trying not to stare at your tits."
"Ah-ha!" Anaya shouted, causing Garrison to stir in his sleep. "You do admit it! You did try to kiss me!"
"That's not what I said," Geralt clarified.
"But you basically did. Stop denying it and just say you wanted to kiss me."
"Why? If you already know I tried to kiss you then why do you need me to admit it?"
"Well, that's not what I had initially asked. I wanted to know why you wanted to kiss me, but obviously, you're not going to tell me. So, the least you can do is admit you wanted to kiss me."
"As I said, forget about it. It didn't happen, it shouldn't matter," Geralt said, standing up.
Anaya groaned in frustration and stood up, stepping in front of him so he couldn't walk away. She was angry and annoyed and frustrated. She was used to getting what she wanted and she would, one way or another.
"Let's see you deny this," she said, grabbing both sides of his face with her hands and bringing his lips down to hers.