Panic sounds about right. Jaskier already has his doublet off and he's in the process of taking off his boots while sitting on the small bed when Geralt enters the room. Is it too much to ask the gods for the witcher to ignore what just happened and blame it on Jaskier being naturally weird?

Apparently yes, it is too much.

"Nothing! It was nothing!" His eyes don't meet Geralt's, his voice is a little high. "You know me, dear witcher, always needing to make a grand entrance and a grand exit."

Jaskier is nervous, panicking, and a drama queen. Which means he babbles away, as if that could mask his emotions, as if it could help him cover up what he wants to hide, when in fact it actually reveals more than it should. With both boots off, Jaskier lets his back fall on the bed because oh, look at that, the ceiling looks incredibly interesting at the moment.

"Don't listen to that preposterous elf. He doesn't know what he's talking about. I know I won't be standing for that-- that..." A hand is raised to indicate what is on the other side of the door. "Delusion! Yes! That's correct, delusion! There's no way he saw any kind of 'special connection'--" He airquotes with both hands, eyerolling. "--between you and Yennefer when we found you fuc--"

Jaskier's eyes widen when he realizes he's let his mouth roll for too long, both hands coming down to cover his lips. Worry taking over his scent, he turns his head slowly on the bed to look at Geralt, as if waiting for the witcher to snarl at him.

"...we thought you were dead?" He says after lowering his fingers a little, as if that explained everything.

(No, Jaskier, it doesn't explain shit.)