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“Jaskier—I need you.”
Jaskier looked up at the man, no witcher who came barging into his cell. Geralt had a habit of doing that—pushing his way through life with brute force and a stubborn attitude. Once upon a time, Jaskier had admired him for it. He had once thought that Geralt was the other side to his coin, always pressed together but never quite touching. His other half in a way. It had been the wishful thinking of a fool who followed the white haired individual for twenty years aimlessly hoping that his affections were returned.
Jaskier had been proven wrong by all accounts.
“Y-you need me?” Jaskier most definitely did not stutter. If hard pressed he would blame the lack of water and the insufficient food that he was fed in the cell. “You,” he empathized his point by pressing his pointer finger accusingly into Geralt’s ridiculous new armor. There was a miniscule part of his lovesick mind that thought it was hot, but that part of him was quickly snuffed out. “Need me?”
“Yes, Jaskier,” Geralt insisted, “It’s urgent. We need to go now.”
“What part of you thinks that I would go with you?” Jaskier said, his voice smaller than he needed it to be. He wished that he had Geralt’s rough, low tones. Jaskier couldn’t growl the same way the witcher could.
Geralt furrowed his brows in confusion. “I—I’m sorry…”
“After all this time?”
“You know I’m not good with words, Jask.”
“So you’re not even going to make an attempt?” Jaskier crossed his arms across his chest. It was not a barrier between him and the witcher. It was not. It just made him appear more cross.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“I want you to turn around and close the door on your way out,” Jaskier forced his voice to be firm. He needed to do this. He couldn’t bend over backwards every time that Geralt wanted him. He would not be some pushover that got dragged into yet another one of Geralt’s messes. Jaskier thought they were friends and if Geralt wanted him to help him, then the witcher was going to have to give back all that he had received. “Come back when you have an actual apology. I am done being your sidekick. I am my own man now, Geralt. If I wanted to get out of this cell, I could do it myself. You’re a big boy yourself. Figure out your own messes for once.”
Geralt looked like he wanted to say something. He sighed and his eyes went almost tearful. It nearly made Jaskier budge, but Jaskier was a stronger man than that. He had turned over a new leaf. He had to do this for himself, for his own heart. Jaskier didn’t think he could survive another heartbreak like that.
“Go.”