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It was astounding.
Astounding and unbelievable.
It was nothing, the simplest thing, something no fuss should ever be done over. And yet it had Jaskier suddenly ceasing to do or think about anything else, as if he was hit by a thunder, and remaining still, mouth gaping, eyes wide open, looking dumbfounded at Geralt. He was dramatic by nature, yes, but this time he honestly was unable to repress his shock, his astonishment under a composed smile and go on with the story he was narrating.
He knew now, though, that it had to be a good story, and admittedly a funny one.
It had to be.
Otherwise Geralt wouldn't be laughing.
He was laughing. Jaskier would have ignored such a detail in any other person, or would probably smile in content. He liked to make people laugh. And yet. And yet. It was Geralt. He'd never seen him laugh before, genuinely laugh. It's not like he had been traveling with him long, four months at the most and their company had been interrupted three or four times by their parting. Still, four months are a good amount of time for someone to have been acquainted with their companion's laugh. And though it had not been such a surprise for Jaskier, who knew Geralt was a grumpy and moody man who smiled at extremely rare occasions, he still wondered if he would ever see the witcher's face, whose unique beauty he'd taken exceptional notice of, light up in a burst of laughter.
Just like it did now.
If he had to be honest, Jaskier was not taken aback so severely that he couldn't utter a word. Geralt would laugh, sooner or later, what kind of man doesn't ever laugh? What had actually made him stumble upon his thoughts and meet utter blankness was the fact that, even if he expected Geralt to laugh some time, he definitely had not expected him to be so damn beautiful when he did.
He was. Gods, Jaskier would be grateful to watch that particular sight every single day of his life, even if he was deprived of other visual pleasures. He hadn't expected it to be beautiful, really, how could a man who scarcely ever smiled laugh so ravishingly? Of course, Jaskier wouldn't ever complain, thank you very much.
Still, as he watched Geralt's shoulders shake in a low, deep and almost sweet laughter that embellished his otherwise gloomy face, Jaskier wished he could at least retrieve any of his previous thoughts. Because, for once, he was rendered speechless.
"Is everything alright?"
The sudden absence of the heartwarming sound and Geralt's smile fainting from his lips made Jaskier frown in confusion.
"What?"
"You stopped mid sentence. Did anything happen or should I enjoy the few seconds of silence?"
"Oh." Jaskier had indeed stopped mid sentence and he realized that when he recalled the rest of the story, since the silence following the witcher's laughter helped him at least gather his thoughts. He didn't even consider Geralt's smirk following his sarcastic comment "Oh, no, everything is alright."
Geralt wasn't laughing now, no, yet the slumping of his shoulders confessed his relief when Jaskier shook his head and went on with the story, although he sensed, he knew something was off when he was looking at the bard's face and saw him staring with a strange, almost foreign expression. He had a long time to see that expression painted on someone's face while they were facing him. He squinted slightly. It was soft and understanding and, he would say, a little bit funny. Affection.
He had learnt to not let Jaskier's rambling have him lose his focus on anything he was doing, in that case, polishing his sword. And yet, for some reason he now just couldn't get his hands to move again on the blade as he catched glimpses of the bard staring at him with interest, fondness almost. He expected a question. It was always a question, following Jaskier's raising of eyebrows and tilting of head. However, the question he was expecting along with his prompting glances for it to be asked seemed to hover and float on the air until the time they laid on their bedrolls.
And not even then was the question asked. Geralt would say Jaskier was asleep, lying on his back, if he hadn't grown familiar with the different rythm of his breathing when he was awake or sleeping. He realized then he'd grown familiar with a lot of things the past four months. And, for a person who avoided attachment of any kind, something about this companionship made his heart flutter. He was still working, though, on getting a grip of what this something was.
Jaskier's voice sounded unfitting in the silence of the night, as if it would ever fail to fit. But it was not unexpected.
"You should laugh more often."
Now that was unexpected. Geralt found himself trying to remember when he'd laughed but he could admit that he'd been in a good mood the past week, so he concluded it didn't really matter. What he wouldn't admit, however, and doubted he ever would was that it was the past week when he'd reunited with Jaskier on the road.
He frowned and turned his head to look at the bard.
"What?" He knew his answer was far from eloquent but he honestly didn't know what else he could respond to such a remark.
Jaskier gazed at him for a moment and then shrugged and averted his eyes. "Well, I couldn't guess since I know you so little, but if you want my humble opinion, you look a lot less scary when you laugh."
And a lot more beautiful, he thought but said nothing. And really, what else could he say about the witcher's laughter except for it breaking his sober and gloomy posture into something closer to human.
It wasn't for him, no. He grew aware of Geralt's compassionate and gentle side with each passing day, if those are the traits to make a human. He was not scared, hadn't ever been and knew he'd never have a reason to. It was, though, for the people. Part of his attempts to revive Geralt's reputation, he would say. That's what it was.
It was not the fluttering his heart did, such that he wished to never see Geralt's laughter vanishing ever again.
It was not that.
Geralt didn't actually expect himself to consider the bard's answer, yet he did huff and turned his gaze to the night sky.
"I would describe it more like hideous. Definitely not less scary." He shook his head. It didn't actually bother him, did it? He never had a reason to laugh anyway.
"Oh, come now, Geralt, don't be so hard on yourself. Watching you laugh was a rather pleasing sight, and a poet like me should have an accurate idea of what a pleasing sight can be." Jaskier pouted and his lips were curved to a smirk as he looked at Geralt again and met his amber eyes shinning in the moonlight. "Besides, you laugh too charmingly for a person who laughs once a year."
If Geralt could blush, he knew he would, because his cheeks were burning like fire under Jaskier's blue gaze. He smiled, however, and a low hum escaped his lips. That should be a way of responding to compliments, because he had never known any other. He never received a compliment to know how to respond anyway.
Jaskier heaved a deep sigh and raised an eyebrow. He had to make Geralt laugh again, it was one of his few chances now that the witcher was more cheerful than usual. Now that he knew he did actually laugh. So he licked his lips and looked sideways at Geralt, and he knew, he knew from the way the witcher avoided his eyes, that he was hiding a wider smile. "Also, the more you laugh the more I will want to stay with you, and I know how much you cherish my company."
"Shut up, Jaskier."
He did it. Gods, he did it.
Geralt laughed again, immediately after uttering the bard's name. And Jaskier grinned in pride and content, and maybe in something more. Because of course he would want to stay with him. Of course he would. Even if Geralt didn't laugh.
That's where he came in. He would give him a reason to.
He glanced at Geralt once again, saw him smiling even though he told him to shut up, and hummed. "Goodnight, Geralt."
Then he turned his back to him, and if he heard Geralt snorting after some minutes of thought in a silent laughter, he said nothing. He'd love to see it, but for now hearing it was more than enough. So he closed his eyes.