The Witcher (One shots)

Love Hurts..

( Geralt x Jaskier)

The memory would stay with him for the rest of his unfairly long life. 

Everything from the sight to the smell of the room would forever haunt him, would follow him while he walked to the quiet and lonely path, would haunt him while he tried in vain to sleep, would hurt more than he'd ever hurt before, every fucking time he thought of it. 

He should have seen it coming, if he wasn't so stupid if he'd paid more attention he wouldn't wake up cold, learning that witchers can, in fact, feel, every single morning. He wouldn't feel guilt so suffocating he slowed a little with every new monster he killed, hoping maybe he would miss something and not have to miss Jaskier anymore.

It should have been obvious, Jaskier had been slowing for weeks before it was too late, weeks he could have done something, saved the one person that still mattered instead of standing by while he was being dragged from this world.

Rain, that was when it started, with a rainy day Jaskier decided was too beautiful to miss. His first real mistake started with the rain, when he'd let Jaskier lay on his back in the grass, the droplets of water falling over his body and soaking him through.

But he'd been so happy, singing to the grey clouds as they passed, kicking up puddles with loud laughs that Geralt was terrified he'd forget, grabbing Geralt's hands and spinning him in the rain while exclaiming that dancing in this weather was one of life's over-looked pleasures.

Geralt can remember thinking that Jaskier was life's greatest treasure, and sickening himself with the thought. Now, he would give anything to go back and tell him those words, wrap him in his arms on more time just to tell Jaskier that he was Geralt's greatest treasure, his greatest achievement, most beautiful sight, most anything and everything  to him.

He would give anything to go back to that day and pull him out of the rain, get him dry and warm sooner instead of indulging him. But he'd been so damn happy, Geralt was blinded by his smile and his horrid dance moves while he slipped and fell into the slippery ground, all the while giggling and singing and enjoying life more than Geralt every thought someone could just because of the rain.

The fucking rain that had stolen that joy for life with such selfish abandon.

He kept on those wet clothes for hours, his teeth chattering and lips turning blue by the time they reached the inn they were heading to before the detour, Geralt should have never let it get to that point, should have got him into a hot bath sooner, to a healer before then even. But he hadn't.

For the next few days, nothing was wrong, Jaskier was still smiles that stole Geralt's breath away, still in Geralt's arms when they woke up. Messy hair and all, he was the most gorgeous thing Geralt had ever laid eyes on. He'd never been appreciative of the beauty the world had to offer, but when Jaskier was sleeping in his arms, he could see what all the poets meant when they spoke of perfection.

When he wakes up with empty arms, he could understand the other side of it. Willing himself back to sleep where, for a few mere moments he had Jaskier with him, holding Geralt's face in his hands and telling him he was beautiful, placing kisses from his forehead to the dot on his chin that Jaskier loved so much. Something he'd done often, something that Geralt never cherished enough, and could still feel if he thought back hard enough. It hurt, when he opened his eyes, the feeling of Jaskier's soft lips lingering on his nose, he was alone.