[ maybe that is why she doesn’t find the nameless wolf all that surprising, why she sees no issue with following, with trusting, with keeping the wolf by her side. this man who looks across to her, who had whispered i want you so quietly, who looks at her now in this bed, that is his, in a room, that smells like her - he doesn’t have a name, and still she feels this way. he doesn’t have a name, or at least not one she can remember, and it doesn’t change this moment. she knows him, whether or not she has a name to call him, and with or without his name, she still feels the pull that keeps her here, the pull that makes her want him to stay.
to be important to someone. to have someone like him, who thinks her important.
during her time in this room, her edges have felt fuzzy, like the image of who she is can be just out of focus. but he looks at her now with eyes that make her feel herself, whoever that is supposed to be. with those eyes in her, such an oddly warm, different and yet expected, tint to them. they are his, only his, and with everything she has forgotten and everything she doesn’t know, she is certain that is something she can never forget - that those eyes are his, and how it makes her felt, when they look to her like they are now.
the edges of his mouth turn up, and her chest both tightens and loosens at the sight. like the flick of a firefly, in the middle of summer, a brief spark of something special, something rare but her’s. yennefer feels herself smile back, not because she knows what he finds entertaining, but because she wants to encourage the smile to remain. ]
Is that all? [ and there is a hint of humor around the question, like it is some inside joke that even she wouldn’t know the background of. is that all that separates them? is that all it takes? her eyes flicker over his face for another, brief moment, before returning to his eyes. she feels it too - the closeness, despite their distance. the comfort it brings. ]
no subject
to be important to someone. to have someone like him, who thinks her important.
during her time in this room, her edges have felt fuzzy, like the image of who she is can be just out of focus. but he looks at her now with eyes that make her feel herself, whoever that is supposed to be. with those eyes in her, such an oddly warm, different and yet expected, tint to them. they are his, only his, and with everything she has forgotten and everything she doesn’t know, she is certain that is something she can never forget - that those eyes are his, and how it makes her felt, when they look to her like they are now.
the edges of his mouth turn up, and her chest both tightens and loosens at the sight. like the flick of a firefly, in the middle of summer, a brief spark of something special, something rare but her’s. yennefer feels herself smile back, not because she knows what he finds entertaining, but because she wants to encourage the smile to remain. ]
Is that all? [ and there is a hint of humor around the question, like it is some inside joke that even she wouldn’t know the background of. is that all that separates them? is that all it takes? her eyes flicker over his face for another, brief moment, before returning to his eyes. she feels it too - the closeness, despite their distance. the comfort it brings. ]
What would you name him?