Oh, look, there goes another thing that stays the same in all worlds: Geralt jumping in to defend her. Jaskier drinks to that as well.
Geralt gets a nod at his words, followed by a snort. He sincerely doubts he'll get any writing done soon, Her Sweet Kiss being the last thing he was able to produce... a month ago. Being stuck here doesn't exactly help his mood either, which frustrates him even more, because he should be getting one hell of an unique experience and thousands of stories worth of ballads.
But no, his visit to another world includes Geralt of fucking Rivia, because of course it does, and Jaskier feels the weight of that golden gaze squeezing his heart by the second.
He stands up and gathers his things (yes, including the bottle of vodka, that's his now), then turns towards the hallway, ready to find a room to disappear into... but Geralt goes and says more. Nice words, gentle words, words that crawl under his skin with their care. It drives him crazy, it gets on his nerves, it hurts. So much. Accepting it to be real means the situation at home becomes even more unfair in contrast.
"Stop being so bloody nice!" Now that's something he never thought he'd ever say. His voice is snappy, his shoulders shaking as he speaks without turning around because even if he feels braver now thanks to the alcohol, he's afraid of finding the kindness of those words in those golden eyes as well. "I know I'm only needed to keep some-- some-- magical connection thingy or whatever to your bard. Worry not, I'll be out of your hair. This place is huge--" His voice breaks then. "--it won't be hard to keep on avoiding you until it's all over."
Keep on avoiding you. His stomach twists when he says that 'you', confusion appearing again and making his head hurt. Or maybe that's just the vodka...?
no subject
Geralt gets a nod at his words, followed by a snort. He sincerely doubts he'll get any writing done soon, Her Sweet Kiss being the last thing he was able to produce... a month ago. Being stuck here doesn't exactly help his mood either, which frustrates him even more, because he should be getting one hell of an unique experience and thousands of stories worth of ballads.
But no, his visit to another world includes Geralt of fucking Rivia, because of course it does, and Jaskier feels the weight of that golden gaze squeezing his heart by the second.
He stands up and gathers his things (yes, including the bottle of vodka, that's his now), then turns towards the hallway, ready to find a room to disappear into... but Geralt goes and says more. Nice words, gentle words, words that crawl under his skin with their care. It drives him crazy, it gets on his nerves, it hurts. So much. Accepting it to be real means the situation at home becomes even more unfair in contrast.
"Stop being so bloody nice!" Now that's something he never thought he'd ever say. His voice is snappy, his shoulders shaking as he speaks without turning around because even if he feels braver now thanks to the alcohol, he's afraid of finding the kindness of those words in those golden eyes as well. "I know I'm only needed to keep some-- some-- magical connection thingy or whatever to your bard. Worry not, I'll be out of your hair. This place is huge--" His voice breaks then. "--it won't be hard to keep on avoiding you until it's all over."
Keep on avoiding you. His stomach twists when he says that 'you', confusion appearing again and making his head hurt. Or maybe that's just the vodka...?