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Jaskier stared at Geralt through his dark, earthy hair. Eyes set sharp and waiting. His posture was anything but relaxed. He held is lute strap close to his chest, with his feet kept shoulder-width apart. The trees casting dark shadows over his figure as he stood in the clearing. Jaskier looked as if he would rather be anywhere else then here in the grassy runway of foliage with Geralt. And that was probably true.
Geralt hasn't seen the once, considered chaotic, bard since the mountain. And he looks the same. The delicate features of his face ceased to change at all. But a fierce look sat in his ever vigilant eyes. Watching every breath Geralt takes. Jaskier is heaving his heart beating hastily. Having been running for quiet a bit. Geralt had spotted him singing gracefully at the tavern in the late afternoon, of course, preforming a lovely new ballad that he wrote. He tried to avoid the tavern with his life, not wanting to cross paths with the bard. But the gnawing at his chest proved much more painful then anything Geralt had previously dealt with. And Geralt caved. He never caves. But just as he met Jaskier's animated gaze, Jaskier had bolted. Gone through the back. Though before Geralt could comprehend what he was doing himself. He was already off. Following the bard's flowery scent into the back woods. Having a much easier time keeping up with the bard, than the bard was having running away from him
"What do you want, heathen?!" Jaskier finally shouted at him, whipping his body around once he reached a clearing. His face set in a deep frown that didn't belong on a face such as Jaskier's.
"To talk." Geralt grunted as if it were obvious.
He tried to take a step forward, but Jaskier took a step back. But not out of fear, Geralt noted. His cornflower blue eyes watching him as a predator would prey. And that made Geralt feel... vulnerable. Witchers don't feel vulnerable.
"Obviously." He spits. "Why now? Why do you all of a sudden you care? I gave you what you bloody wanted! I left!"
"I know."
"Now it's your turn! Leave."
"You don't mean that." Geralt bites back. He doesn't care.
"Yes I do." Jaskier's eyes, that followed the colors that painted the sky a morning blue, did not waver. "Leave, Geralt."
"No." Witchers don't feel. He doesn't feel.
"Unless you have something you want to say to me?" He tests, there's some amusement pitched underneath the anger.
"Yes. I am... sorry. I was just... angry with you. Not at you. I shouldn't have yelled." Geralt settled with that.
"Okay."
"...okay." Geralt watched ahead. Jaskier didn't make any movements to follow him or to come closer. "Are you comin-"
"No. I'm not. You can go now Geralt, if we're through." Jaskier cut him off, his deep frown turning into a bitter smile. And those eyes, god, his blue eyes that held the color blue that only an angel could cry, finally cast away. They held a glare with the soft grass that danced quietly in the wind.
"Why not? I apologized to you." He stopped, chest contracting painfully. The thought of leaving alone sent a shock of fear through his chest. It was like it reverberated off the hollow, lonely walls of his chest. But he can't feel. Was he dying? "I don't understand what more could you want, Jaskier?"
"Are you kidding me, Geralt?" The eye's flicked back up to him in wild disbelief. Hands moving wildly. "I thought more of you. But apparently you just keep proving me wrong. There's nothing more I want from you except a fucking apology, Geralt. I spent years, YEARS, Geralt of my life following you around like some stray vermin. Wrote songs about you, even! And we weren't so much as friends in your eyes. And even though deep down I knew it was true. I thought-" He faltered a second, tracks of tears starting heavily down his face. "I thought I at least meant something to you. I thought those nights meant something. But who was I fooling? Surely me. You didn't even like my singing."
"You do... matter." Geralt tried. He wanted desperately to comfort the bard, but he knew he wasn't accepted. He frown, internally confused and hurt.
"Well that's a fucking surprise, in itself. You still can't seem to even compliment me. Not even once. And here I sat thinking the lonely, brooding, wolf needed no one." Venom dripped angrily from his words. His hand waving in a dismissive gesture. "Anyways, that's beside the point. I got places to be, Geralt. A court to perform to, ladies to bed, coin to earn..."
Which was mostly the truth. Jaskier hasn't bedded anyone, man or women, since the fallout with the Witcher. He felt hollow, and sad. More sad than he's ever felt in a long time. Was this true heartbreak? He loved the man, and that man had dropped him on his ass. Sending a shock-wave of heartbreak rippiling through his veins, and straight to his heart. Shattering it into thousands of pieces. And to think Jaskier gave most of it away to faceless people he didn't even remember. What a joke he was. Now this Witcher wants Jaskier to follow him around again, as if nothing happened. With that sorry ass excuse of an apology. In a different time Jaskier might've actually considered it.
"Jaskier." He all but pleaded.
"You haven't seen me in months and you have barely said anything worth meaning to me. You can't even breath a nice thing you like about me, Geralt. Goodbye. And for good this time. Leave me alone." He whispered. Turning sharply. Geralt smelled the salty tears reoccurring.
This time Geralt's chest heaved with emotion. He felt, okay? Dammit, he fucking felt. And it was all this bard's fault. It scares him. He knew that excuse meant shit. But having lived decades, isolated, alone, numb, you begin to build everything you know off of that. And having Jaskier around tore everything he built to protect himself down. Burned like it was a woolen shirt. Jaskier all but a spark of gaiety, and Geralt a sullen tether to be lit.
But if he wanted to be kept lit he had to think quick. Swallow his foolish pride and get his head out of his ass.
"Your... eyes," he grunted out. Jaskier stopped in his tracks. Geralt heard his heart skip a beat. But he didn't turn around. "as we said our goodbyes."
He thoughts filtered back to the mountain. Sometimes he had nightmares. Sometimes he sat alone without a fire because he felt he deserved to be hungry. The way Jaskier had looked at him.
"Why is it that whenever I find myself in a pile of shit it's you who's shoveling it."
Those blue eyes darkened with sorrow. The smell of sadness crashing off in waves. But the second those words rolled out of his mouth like a horse drawn carriage he couldn't stop himself. He's never seen anyone look at him like that though. He's seen fear, anger, confusion. But never has someone looked at him with such a dragged look of betrayal.
"That isn't fair." His voice cracked. And at the time Geralt hadn't cared till he calmed down many hours later. When he himself felt ashamed of those words. Yeah. That wasn't fair.
"Can't get them out of my mind. And I find... I can't hide." He breathed bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose. Almost embarrassed by his words. "From you eyes. The one's that took me by surprise. When you came into my life."
Jaskier hadn't moved at all. Maybe a twitch of his hand from where they sat along the sides of his legs. Geralt could smell the tears slowly, but surely becoming less. But the heavy smell of anger hasn't been swayed.
Geralt watched the singing bard from the back corner strum the lute with nimble, quick fingers. He wasn't a bad performer by any means. But he lacked the experience to feel for his music. But who was Geralt to tell the flamboyant bard that.
Though one minute he was peacefully drinking by his lonesome and the next that same bard hauled himself at the table he was sitting at. With a smile that could rival the sun. And a smell that challenged the nastiest breath of any monster he's battled.
But the thing he noticed before any of that nonsense. Was the bard's wide, child-like eyes. Alight with mischief and curiosity. There was no fear hidden in the depths of Jaskier's eyes. Only the pigment of the deepest ocean that brought on waves of open emotion. When was the last time anyone had looked at Geralt like that. Like he himself was a God. Not the devil himself. It made Geralt feel exposed for once. Like his entire life had been written in a book and this bard was sitting here freely reading it with those wide eyes.
"Three words or less." He stated, cornflower eyes burning with untold lust. And the rest was history.
"Wherever there's moonlight. I see your eyes." Geralt couldn't help but think back to the cold and quiet nights where the moon was his only light. And he swear he saw Jaskier in every lick of moonlight. "How'd I let you get away-"
Geralt finally took a few steps toward his bard. Jaskier did in fact hear him make his way closer, but thankfully didn't go to step away. He was almost close enough to touch him. The warm wind whipped at his hair and face, encouraging him onwards.
"When I'm longing so, to hold you." Hr gruffed out. Jaskier spun on his heal just as Geralt stepped into his space. Jaskier had small in take of breath from the shock of it all. But Geralt wasn't gonna let him speak. He held those beautiful blue eyes in his gaze. "Now I die for one more day cause there's something I should've told you. Along time ago."
"Geralt-" Jaskier started.
"Why does distance make us wise?" He mused a little. Voice rough with some sort of emotion he didn't dare place. "You were the one all along. I should tell you..."
Gearlt ook a deep breath. Pulling the bard closer into his chest and running his hands through Jaskiers unkempt, brown hair that was longer than he remembers. It was curling around his ears in an unforgiving manner. One hand tugging at his waist and the other kept under his chin. Jaskier's head tilted up towards Geralt unable to look anywhere but forwards.
"I have always loved you." Geralt whispered in Jaskier's ear. The bard tensed below him.
"You're lying. It's all but a joke. Isn't it?" Jaskier whispered back, voice wet with emotion. His eyes widening a bit.
"You can see it in my eyes." He finishes. Leaning down to collect Jaskier's mouth into a bruising, hungry kiss. Which is happily reciprocated.
After a heated minute or two Geralt pulled back first. Not letting go of lithe bard beneath his hands. Never again.
"Screw you." Jaskier mumbled at him. "Took you long enough you thick headed bafoon. I love you too..."
"Jaskier." He muttered back. "Your singing was never a filling less pie. It's.... lovely." He finishes uncertain if that's what the bard wants to hear.
"I accept your apology, Geralt. But if you dare ever pull anything like that again... I will castrate you and steal Roach."
"Hmm." He grunts at Jaskier a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Alright you can let go of me you oaf. No need to prove how mush more capable you are than me. Thank you very much." He tutted, wiping stale tears from his puffy eyes. Smiling obnoxiously bright as he kissed Geralt on the nose a pulled back out of his arms. Running back to the town in frivolous manner.
Geralt shook his head in quiet amusement. He will admit he didn't feel a lot of positive emotions for humans or for monsters, though there wasn't much of a difference, he knew for sure there was something powerful there for Jaskier. Something he hadn't felt in probably his entire life time, maybe. The damn bard he'd let down a millions over. And the man still accepted him back after some simple words. He could try being happy for once. At least with Jaskier.
Geralt followed behind Jaskier's scent with ease. Flowers and warmth. All the way to the tavern where he went to sit and drank some ale in the back corner. This time accompanied with that smiling bard who wouldn't shut up. Instead of watching him from the background as a stranger, Geralt watched him from right across the table as his partner. With eyes that illuminated the world more than the moon herself ever could.
Witchers don't feel. Ha! Whoever made that up had no idea what they were talking about.