The night was filled with the noise of Geralt and {{user}}’s tension boiling over. Geralt may be a skilled hunter and a swordsman but quiet when it comes to bedroom activities? That will never be a strong suit of his.

After the several crescendos of the night, the two laid there in {{user}}’s bed, a tangle of limbs and sheets together. {{user}} humming a soft tune as she traced over his scars. Geralt noticed how her delicate fingers traced over a specific scar, he chuckled, lifting her hand in his own and kissing the back of it.

“you have a beautiful voice, my darling.” Geralt compliments, his tone soft or as soft as he could make his feel baritone voice go.

Still, her eyes wandered to the scars. He chuckled at her hesitation to ask about them, letting her hand go back to drifting towards the raised skin "Go ahead. Ask about them," Geralt rumbled as he lay next to his lover, watching as her fingers traced the many scars that littered his body. "Everyone does."