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Safe.
That's how Geralt felt, whenever he was in her arms. He felt safe. Like nothing else in the world mattered. Yennefer would help him, no matter what, Yennefer would take care of him. Yennefer would make sure he was happy. Yennefer would make sure he was safe.
He smiled to himself. He instinctively moved closer to her, drawn in by her body heat. The scent of lilac and gooseberries was as strong as ever. He gazed up into her beautiful violet eyes, completely and absolutely entranced, as he always was when he looked at her. He wanted to run his hand through her hair but decided against it. He didn't want to get it dirty.
Her beautiful, melodic voice. That's what he wanted to hear at that moment. He couldn't really hear anything, though. Maybe she was talking, and he wished he could hear it but he couldn't. Disappointing, but he could deal with that. He leaned in closer, smiling in content.
Safe.
When he was with Yen, he was safe.
He thought back to their time sitting in the fields at Corvo Bianco. They were lying in the soft grass, gazing up at the stars, Geralt's arm around her as they relaxed. It was cold outside, but they were close. And when they were close, they were warm.
They were safe.
"I love you," Geralt had said, breaking the silence that they had been sharing. Yennefer closed her eyes and smiled, snuggling closer to Geralt, pulling on the arm that was wrapped around her so that it was wrapped tighter. She had shifted and turned so that she could give him a soft kiss, one that they both smiled into. She tasted like happiness and warmth, her lips soft and beautiful. When she pulled away, she nuzzled her head into his neck. He used his other hand to gently run his fingers through her beautiful, raven locks that he so adored.
"I love you, too," she had said.
And they both meant it. There was not a single part of either of them that did not mean it, and they both knew it.
It was the same now. Geralt was in her arms, and Geralt felt warm. He knew it was cold, but he felt warm. It was an addictive warmth and he didn't want to let it go. Not yet. He gravitated towards that warmth, even without a djinn. He always did. Maybe at first it was infatuation, but he knew that it became love. It became so strong that the djinn's spell could not have broken the bond they had. Geralt knew it wouldn't. Geralt knew they loved each other, and he would love her until the day that he died.
He remembered another time at Corvo Bianco when Yennefer was interested in Geralt's relationship with cats. She knew cats weren't exactly fond of Geralt, and that the feeling was mutual, yet apparently she had wanted to test just how far a cat would go to get away from him. She instructed Geralt to sit on the steps outside the vineyard while she went to fetch a wandering cat. He thought that maybe this was some sort of cruel, sick joke, but Geralt had no choice but to obey.
When she returned, the black cat she was holding in her arms immediately began to hiss. Geralt looked at it, and at Yennefer, completely unphased. He was used to this reaction. He was not, however, expecting her to forcibly place the cat in his lap as it struggled to escape. He had held up his hands in a sort of panic as the cat struggled furiously against her grip.
"Hold it!" Yennefer had shrieked, seeming to take this mundane task way too seriously. Geralt hesitated, but the look of determination in her eyes forced him to hold the struggling creature. And it continued to struggle, to hiss, to scratch, until he heard Yennefer mutter a spell and wave her hands around. After emitting a faint, blue glow, the cat immediately relaxed in his hold, laying down in his lap. Geralt was simply dazed and confused.
"Couldn't I have just used axii?"
"If you had used axii," she had explained, sitting down next to him and stroking the cat. It began to purr. "then I would not have been able to show off."
Geralt raised an eyebrow. He had suspected there was more to it but he decided not to question her. If she didn't want to say then it didn't matter. He was fine with hesitantly patting the cat on the head as he watched Yennefer do the same, albeit more gracefully, her face focused but content. He had also been content. He was content right now, too.
The warmth made him tired. He continued to look into her striking eyes, everything else in the room disappearing. He focused only on Yennefer. On the beautiful scent that she wore constantly, making him feel at ease. On the ever soft, wavy, pitch-black hair that framed her face perfectly. At her beautiful eyes that stared intensely into his, her dark and full eyelashes beautifully complimenting her features. He smiled and stared until he could no longer stay awake. He closed his eyes and he felt safe in her arms. Surrounded by her.
He did not hear her cries of protest. He did not realize the warmth he felt was her spells, spells trying desperately to keep him awake but to no avail. He did not realize that Regis was also in the room, pacing in a panic as the healing mixtures he had concocted were ineffective. He did not notice Triss uselessly but desperately trying different magic amulets on him to heal his severe and permanent wounds. He did not realize they were in a dark and damp cave, smelling to most people of rot and death. He did not even notice the pain he should have been feeling, his broken and mangled limbs bent unnaturally, his left eye missing, his jaw shattered and his lung collapsed.
He felt the presence of Ciri when she arrived. A gentle and comforting tug in his heart, telling him that she was there. He smiled again.
He was safe.
And then he slept.