I hadn’t slept, even though I’ve been in that room for hours. I couldn’t even remember what time it was, only the thoughts that rolled through my head. Thoughts of him Thoughts of the man I’d loved once. I leaned back on the bed, my arms folded behind my head. Blue eyes stared at the ceiling, chest rising gently with deep breaths. He had been a man I’d loved, a man I’d done everything in my power to make happy.
I’d given Letho my virginity. Let him be the one to be deep within me for the first time in my life. And it was wonderful. I’d been sore for days after, even though I’d woken up alone the next morning. With only the songs of birds around me to remind me that it was not a dream. He’d really been with me, really had his lips against every inch of my skin. He’d really slid into me like he’d been meant to be there forever.
But, in the end, it had failed. Just like I’d expected it to. It always ended, always failed. I wasn’t enough. And I knew it. And if things continue the way they’re going, I’d lose Zovea too. I’d lose him before I ever got a chance to truly have him. I didn’t often let myself drop into thoughts like this, but something about the previous night had stirred these thoughts around in my head.
I’d loved before, but not like this. I’d spent days thinking of the way someone’s hands felt against my skin, the way their lips felt against mine. But it wasn’t like this. I hadn’t spent so much time agonizing over the things I could be doing better, hadn’t constantly thought about what I could do to make him stay. That was the hard part, you know. Keeping them. Catching the one you wanted was the easy part, since most men liked the chase anyway. But once you had them, you had to keep them enthralled somehow.
I know that Zovea is a hunter, much like myself. So that’s the easy part. I can keep him with that, the constant chase, the fact that he might have me but he’ll have to fight for me. But I know better. Sooner or later, he’ll grow tired of it, just as I will. And we both have such long lives ahead of us. I will never be the Yennefer to his Geralt. Of course not, I know better. But, if I’m lucky, maybe I can be there even temporarily. That’s all I really want. I just want him, even if it’s a relationship that’s shorter than I want.
I don’t even know what kind of man Zovea really is, and I know that. I know that he and I never got a chance to really be around each other. And I know that I constantly seem like I’m at his throat, but how else am I supposed to keep up with him? How else?
Slowly, I sat up in bed, my head swimming. A job, a hunt. That was what I needed. I needed to clear my head, get out of this room. Maybe alone. Yes. I’ll go on a little material gathering quest, just something to collect a few plants, maybe a wolf pelt or two. Nothing crazy, just something I can do alone without Zovea demanding to come along. Because with him there, all I’ll do is think of him. I don’t want him to know that I’m already bordering on obsession. I can’t let him know that.
He’s not Letho, Chiara. That’s the mantra I keep repeating to myself. He’s not Letho, he’s not Geralt. But Zovea is… well, he’s himself. That’s all I can ask for. All I can ask for his the way he touches me, the way he kisses me, the way he slides into me like a piece of a puzzle that I’ve been trying to solve for years.
DAMN IT! No. I need to stop. I can’t keep thinking like this, only focusing on the obvious physical chemistry between us. This isn’t one of my potions, the materials mostly just thrown together in hopes that the outcome is acceptable. This is a man who… I love.
Why? Why does that word feel so odd in my mind? I shouldn’t be so wary of saying it. But, at the same time, what if he doesn’t feel the same? What if I’m just a placeholder until he finds someone who can be better for him than I can? Those are the things that keep me awake at night. Especially when he’s not here. When I’m alone, those are the things that plague my mind. It’s why I can’t sleep. And if he knew…. How would he feel about that?
My eyes close as I lay in bed And, finally, after hours of laying here awake and staring at the rafters that make up the ceiling above me, sleep begins to hold me. It wraps me in that warm embrace, tugging me beneath black waters that I can’t get away from. Waters that I’ve been trying to sink beneath for the past few hours. I know what I’ll dream of. It’s the same thing, always on a loop.
I dream of him. Of his hands on my skin, of his lips crushing against mine. Of his tongue, those hardened muscles. Gods. I really should get some help. Or just have him again and again. Over and over. I don’t want to end this. I won’t end this. I can’t.