Geralt is absolutely right, Jaskier isn't letting go of the lute any time soon. Especially now that his Geralt-related emotions are getting messy again. Gods, he had fallen into Angry and Bitter pretty comfortably, why can't he stay there? Why does Geralt have to be nice? Why does he mention picking up Jaskier's things as if it was the most obvious and natural choice from his part? As if he hadn't threatened to destroy the lute hundreds of times in the past?

He doesn't know what to think anymore. Maybe he should say thank you, but the words get stuck in his throat.

The witcher mandhandles Jaskier back to bed, and isn't that an irony? Because that's a fantasy Jaskier has had before, but it didn't go like this - exactly the opposite in fact. It's been a night full of opposites, to be fair. Geralt is the one doing the room renting, food ordering, wound mending. It's surreal, having him at his feet like this, being gentle with his wounds like Jaskier had thousands of times before for him. It makes him wince and whimper every now and then, depending on how deep the cut goes, but the salve is soothing and Geralt's hands are kind, so Jaskier's body is slowly lowering its defenses and giving in to the caretaking.

Something else is bothering him though. He watches Geralt with a frown on his face, arms always hugging the lute, as he tries to put two and two together. Why would Geralt find his room in Gors Velen? If he's been protecting princess Cirilla, then he should've been tracking the Nifgaardian soldiers, right? Unless... no way.

"...you were looking for me." He finally says aloud, clearly not believing his own words. Blue eyes are wide with surprise, all his messy emotions raw in there as well, not understanding what the fuck is going on. "Bloody hell. Why?"