wow another prompt thing! these probably won't all be up as fast as i'm posting them now, but i wanted to get moving on answering them all lol, i'm hoping that i can keep up a pace of one or two a week since these won't be like, one-shot length. this one is for a tumblr anon, and it's from the same list of dialogue prompts as the last one: "i'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention." this takes place sometime after the end of blood & wine, after geralt kills the beast and yennefer has moved into corvo bianco (the only appropriate romance ending)

In the Shade

Geralt was still having trouble getting used to the quiet—staying in one place, sleeping in the same bed under the same roof every night, walking the same grounds during the day. After he'd solved Toussaint's vampire problem things had moved so quickly; he'd barely even had time to stop and think about it. The investigation into the fifth victim, the ceremony, getting drunk in a cemetery, and then, after the dust had settled, returning to Corvo Bianco only to find her there. Yennefer. He never thought he'd see the day where she willingly ventured so far south, much less to see him. Their relationship had always consisted more of arguing than actually being happy, and even after everything that had happened in Skellige—even with the wish's hold being broken—he hadn't been sure how much would truly change.

But everything had changed about their relationship, it seemed; everything except Yennefer herself. She was still unmistakably the same: the sight of her, the coolness of her skin, her scent, none of that was different. And she continued to act as she always had, albeit on a smaller scale. A few days after her arrival, she'd asked him to move the chaise she liked so much to a shadier spot under a tree. In hindsight, he should've been glad for something to do, no matter how small a task, but when he complained about it she sighed, rolled her eyes, and levitated it over herself, staring uncomfortably at him the entire time.

No, the things that were different were the small things. How she was a bit more willing to smile fully at him, how there was never as much distance between them physically as she had insisted on putting in the past (though there were far fewer people around to see her resting her head on his shoulder or the like; the vineyard was so isolated that it had stopped being an issue in the first place). He had anticipated that she would quickly grow tired of sitting around, that she'd insist on starting some project to keep her occupied; in reality, it turned out to be the exact opposite. Geralt took on local contracts every few weeks, despite Yennefer's urging him to stay home and "not leave her to fend for herself," while she seemed content to sit under the tree, book in hand. Of course, there were still projects—she insisted on having most of the main house redone even after all the renovations he'd made prior to her arrival—but as long as she could keep an eye on things, she seemed more than happy to leave the manual labor to others.

On the days he wasn't out on a contract (which were most days), he would often sit with her, on the ground in front of where she was lounging, and rest his head against her thigh or her hip, eyes closed, breathing her in. She didn't act like she minded; on the contrary, she was clearly enjoying having him there, though she ignored him outwardly most of the time. Occasionally she would reach down and card her hand through his hair, or ghost her fingertips across his jawline, but that was a dangerous game—more often than not it would end with him pulling her down on top of him, much to the embarrassment of several workers who had had the misfortune of walking by at inopportune times, more than once. It had never bothered Yennefer at all, but Geralt felt more than a little awkward about it, so for the most part he tried to keep the displays of affection to a minimum. They were in the middle of converting the entire second floor into a master bedroom; once that was done, they would have plenty of room to be affectionate.

But those renovations wouldn't be done for another several weeks, and after returning from a particularly annoying contract involving a vintner who didn't understand the difference between arachnomorphs and regular spiders, he wanted nothing more than to be close to her, in whatever way he could be. When he'd initially gotten back to the vineyard, Yennefer had taken one look at him and insisted he take a bath before he got anywhere near her, a suggestion he agreed to readily. He did so, then wandered out to find her, in only his trousers and boots, hair pulled back—it was far too hot for much else. (Though he was beginning to get used to it, he still agreed with her initial complaints about the sun, not that he'd ever admit it to her.) She was laying in her usual spot, though instead of reading, she had her arm thrown over her eyes, shielding them from the light. He sat down in front of her, his back against the chaise, waiting for her to greet him as she normally did. Instead, she said nothing.

He briefly considered the possibility that she was asleep, but threw it out almost immediately; despite her preference for keeping a light on, she never could've done more than lightly doze in sunlight that direct. No, more than likely she was just ignoring him in favor of whatever was on her mind. (There were times that he wished the mind-reading went both ways—especially in these moments, he would want nothing more than to know what she was thinking.) Deciding to test this theory, he reached behind him and pressed his fingertip against her waist.

She didn't respond, but he knew he'd been right—he could feel her exhale just the slightest bit deeper, possibly trying to hold back a laugh. That was all the reaction he got out of her, though, so after a moment he did it again. And again. She was putting on a remarkable display of resistance, but she couldn't ignore him forever. Right?

"I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention," he said, turning to face her, and she heaved out a long-suffering sigh, moving her arm so she was using it to prop herself up instead as she looked at him. Her expression was one of complete seriousness, but he could tell she was happy to see him from the way her lips were pressed together just the slightest bit too tightly. He took a nearly absurd amount of pride in it, the fact that when she was around him she had to actually try to keep from smiling.

"Well, you've got some," she said, looking him up and down. "I just hope you've got something important to—oh!"

She was cut off by him grabbing her other arm and pulling her down, rolling so she landed on top of him, her fingers curled over his shoulders, her hair falling in a dark curtain around him. He grinned at the exasperated look on her face as she rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth tilting up.

"Missed you," he said in response. "Got a lot to tell you about the contract I just fi—"

He stopped short when she lifted one of her hands to press a finger against his lips, effectively silencing him. She was smiling now, widely, and he felt his medallion vibrate faintly as she raised her other hand briefly, casting something. He hoped it was some sort of cloaking spell. It would certainly make things a bit less awkward for the workers. Yennefer raised an eyebrow. "You can tell me about it later," she said, and kissed him.

this took way longer to write than i want to admit because i don't know how to do anything that isn't at least a little bit angsty