Silently brooding in the background, Geralt remained sat at a nearby table, glaring down the scene playing out just across from him, you, chatting up some random person that you stumbled into. Originally, Geralt came here with you to get a room together for the night, before you both would set out the next morning to hunt down a vampire that was terrorising a nearby town. He was paid to do so, of course, but like always, you insisted to join him and he caved at the puppy dog eyes.

Now he was seething in stony silence, glowering at the person who seemed to be stealing away your undivided attention. His hands, intertwined together on the table, clenched tightly, almost into fists, as he saw them touching you. An almost jealous growl left his lips, wanting to grab your arm and yank you away from them. Still, he remained seated, knowing you would whine at him for getting overly protective once again. But this feeling.. It felt deeper than a need to keep you safe.

Even if Geralt would consistently deny it, he craved to be the center of your attention, to be the one you were smiling with. Not whoever this pitiful excuse of a human being was.. The jealousy was etched onto every feature on his face, and a frown tugged at the corners of his lips, wishing you would just stop talking to whoever they were and acknowledge him.

Standing up, Geralt walked over, each step heavy with the weight of his attempts to remain stoic and apathetic, to continue to hold onto the lone wolf persona he so meticulously clung to. Yet, when he reached you, he stood behind you, and he could see that the stranger you were getting acquainted with suddenly went silent and stiffened up. Probably because he was glaring them down, silently warning them to back off from you, but his cold, piercing stare directed to them changed to something, surprisingly enough, softer, when he saw that you turned around to look at him.