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"You talked with Triss."

"You don't have to make it come out as such an accusation." Yennifer removed her hood, black hair cascaded down her shoulders.

Geralt was far less put together, simple slacks and no shoes. His hair was messily up and the Witcher's Medallion sat against his chest. "Did it?"

Yennifer glanced over her shoulder, her back still to Geralt. "It did."

"Then that means you must be guilty of something."

She spun then, hair fanned out like a raven's wing. "Setting boundaries. Something that I wouldn't have to do if /you/ had them."

"They're mine to set, Yen."

She crossed her arms and her nose wrinkled. "You're too kind with her."

"She helped us save Ciri."

"That doesn't forgive what she did to you!" Yennifer thundered. Had she been younger, less in control, the magic would have cracked loose around her. "Do you even know what could have happened?"

Geralt clenched his jaw and crossed his own arms over his chest in a mirror of petulance against Yennifer that only couples who have been together for so many years they've forgotten the number can manage. "I'm not an idiot, Yen."

She swallowed. "No, you are not. You're bullheaded you are … assured of your own damned indestructibility and that means that you allow people to take advantage of you." Yennifer sighed "I am not going to sit idly by while that woman pretends she didn't hurt you."

"She didn't hurt me, Yen."

"She kept us apart."

"No one could do that for long, Yen. Not even us, if we couldn't do that how the hell do you think Triss could have managed?"

The thunder cleared from Yennifer's eyes. "You…. are far too distracting without a shirt on Geralt. Put some clothes on."

"I'm a retired old man, we don't wear shirts."

"Retired old men are always cold."

"You could warm me up."
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