[ It’s such a simple phrase on its face, a string of 4 words. She doesn’t qualify it, doesn’t return it with a condition. It’s straightforward and seemingly easy to say. Even if they both know it’s not. It’s as close to an admission of love as she might get for now. Because she hadn’t said it back to him that night after he’d found his way into her nightmare. That was too complicated of a situation, but this wasn’t. They needed each other and they needed to stay strong for whatever Jaskier could feel through the bond. She had no interest in being responsible for feeding his fear when he has enough to worry about. And in that same vein, she had no interest in feeding any more of Geralt’s rage right now. Not when they knew Jaskier was awake and at the beginning of whatever hard truths were about to find him.
And where he may not be willing to risk her life or heart, she is if there’s no other choice. But, she’d prefer to not reach that point.
She doesn’t bother with lighting the kitchen as they enter it, letting the calm and darkness of night wash over them through the large windows, taking the bottle when it’s handed over and quickly opening it to take a drink. If they were skipping the refinement of knives, glasses seemed like a stretch. She slides the bottle back to Geralt, roaming through the kitchen to grab a chilled block of softer cheese and some grapes.
Yen isn’t in the mood for cheese under her nails, grabbing a knife for herself. She manages a soft chuckle as she returns to the counter, adding to their small but growing collection of food. She cuts off a bit of cheese from the small block and grabs a chunk of bread. ]
Well, I’m sure I’ll think of a way or five he can return the favor.
no subject
And where he may not be willing to risk her life or heart, she is if there’s no other choice. But, she’d prefer to not reach that point.
She doesn’t bother with lighting the kitchen as they enter it, letting the calm and darkness of night wash over them through the large windows, taking the bottle when it’s handed over and quickly opening it to take a drink. If they were skipping the refinement of knives, glasses seemed like a stretch. She slides the bottle back to Geralt, roaming through the kitchen to grab a chilled block of softer cheese and some grapes.
Yen isn’t in the mood for cheese under her nails, grabbing a knife for herself. She manages a soft chuckle as she returns to the counter, adding to their small but growing collection of food. She cuts off a bit of cheese from the small block and grabs a chunk of bread. ]
Well, I’m sure I’ll think of a way or five he can return the favor.