[ He does, that's true. He keeps her secrets and she returns that favor. Usually without a need to weaponize those confessions and truths. At least, not lately -- and to her credit, the only one she weaponizes it against is him. It was a dangerous game to play, that level of trust she didn't often give to many. Trust he'd earned and trust she'd actively tried to maintain with him and for him.
Setting everything down, a wave of her hand ignites the flames -- bringing them roaring to life as the logs catch again.
Popping a grape into her mouth, she relaxes as much as she can -- some of the tension refusing to leave her shoulders. Still on edge and ready to reflexively react should there be another burst of emotion from Jaskier. Something strong enough to draw Geralt away from her.
She can’t fill the void Jaskier has left and she has no intentions to try. Taking up a space she’s not meant to isn’t a hobby she enjoys. And one she doesn’t need to employ. It’s strange, any other time she might’ve felt threatened by Geralt’s strong response to the Bard. Not that she had a right to lay claim, but if Geralt voiced the feeling of something missing, she’d be remiss to not agree. But, she’d need quite a few more drinks first. Because that would also be an admission of needs and feelings and that’s not in the plans tonight. Fuck no. Not with everything just a little too raw.
So, she sits. And she stays close. And she takes his hand when there’s another wave of strong emotions, leaving him only to fetch another bottle when they’ve finished off the latest. Let the dawn eventually wash over them with her head on his shoulder, eyes fixed on the window as the birds dance in the slowly blooming garden. ]
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[ He does, that's true. He keeps her secrets and she returns that favor. Usually without a need to weaponize those confessions and truths. At least, not lately -- and to her credit, the only one she weaponizes it against is him. It was a dangerous game to play, that level of trust she didn't often give to many. Trust he'd earned and trust she'd actively tried to maintain with him and for him.
Setting everything down, a wave of her hand ignites the flames -- bringing them roaring to life as the logs catch again.
Popping a grape into her mouth, she relaxes as much as she can -- some of the tension refusing to leave her shoulders. Still on edge and ready to reflexively react should there be another burst of emotion from Jaskier. Something strong enough to draw Geralt away from her.
She can’t fill the void Jaskier has left and she has no intentions to try. Taking up a space she’s not meant to isn’t a hobby she enjoys. And one she doesn’t need to employ. It’s strange, any other time she might’ve felt threatened by Geralt’s strong response to the Bard. Not that she had a right to lay claim, but if Geralt voiced the feeling of something missing, she’d be remiss to not agree. But, she’d need quite a few more drinks first. Because that would also be an admission of needs and feelings and that’s not in the plans tonight. Fuck no. Not with everything just a little too raw.
So, she sits. And she stays close. And she takes his hand when there’s another wave of strong emotions, leaving him only to fetch another bottle when they’ve finished off the latest. Let the dawn eventually wash over them with her head on his shoulder, eyes fixed on the window as the birds dance in the slowly blooming garden. ]