#lilliowy

he rarely sleeps deeply.  too many senses, too many sounds, too acutely aware of his surroundings at all times even when he doesn’t mean to be.too many fucking village idiots who think that they can sneak up on a witcher and do him harm in his sleep.  her first soft whimpers rouse him immediately, and he raises up onto one side, clutching at the dagger that he sleeps with underneath his pillow.  but there is no intruder in their shared bedroom.  there is no-one aside from himself and yennefer.  even in the pitch black of the bedchamber, he can tell she’s been crying.  he can scent it in the air, see the salt tracks on her cheeks, and he relaxes his grip on his blade slightly, fully rising to a sitting position.‘yennefer,’ he whispers hoarsely, voice gruff from sleep.  ‘yennefer.’he wants to reach out to touch her, to reassure her of his presence but he doesn’t dare – he likes his balls where they are, and he’s got more fucking sense than to touch someone in the throes of a nightmare.‘yenna, it’s just a dream. it’s not real.’