Geraskier Oneshots

Sweet Kiss (Part One)

I sat atop my little perch, picking the petals off a flower like a lovesick princes.

I suppose I equate to one right about now.

"Stupid, stupid poet," I muttered, then threw my flower.

I once overheard Yennefer saying about her schooling, something Tissaia de Vries had once said. "Sometimes a flower is just a flower, and the best thing it can do for us is to die."

Funny how true that is now. Funny...

I wiped a tear off my face and stood, embarrassed at my own foolishness. Senseless, to cry in public. There was nothing poetic about woeful love. Well, maybe there was, but not this kind. Not right now.

I picked up my lute, tried to smile, and failed. "Gods, that's pathetic,"

My eyes closed in silence, angry, hurt silence. He pointed out every issue we'd ever had (which, mind you, was only two). Then he asked the Universe to take me off his hands. As if I was some horrible burden he couldn't get rid of. As if it was my fault he'd fallen in love with an awful witch.

"She's... no, that won't work. The, uhm. the fairer sex, they often call it,"

I played and sang, raw and pained, ripped to the bone and angry.

"But her love's as unfair as a crook

It steals all my reason

Commits every treason

Of logic, with naught but a look

A storm breaking on the horizon

Of longing and heartache and lust

She's always bad news

It's always lose, lose

So tell me love, tell me love

How is that just?

But the story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

Her sweet kiss

But the story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

Her current is pulling you closer

And charging the hot, humid night

The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool

Better stay out of sight

I'm weak my love, and I am wanting

If this is the path I must trudge

I welcome my sentence

Give to you my penance

Garrotter, jury and judge

But the story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

Her sweet kiss

The story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

But the story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

Her sweet kiss

But the story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

The story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss..."

I didn't cry until I finished, didn't hurt or pine or ache or anything until I was done. Then I fell limply and began to sob.

"I'm weak, love, and wanting," I choked out, the tune barely curried.

This, this pain, this awful, inescapable longing, full of this awful want. Gods, it hurt me how bad I wanted him. I was melodramatic, prone to thoughts like this, but I swear I meant it. I swear I've never hurt that bad on the inside. At least there was mutual anger when I was left by women. At least they were clear with the reasons. But the fact that I was present with his issues? He caused my issue with the Djinn. If he hadn't wished for peace, that wouldn't have happened. If he had apologized, or let go, I would have given up and given him his stupid jug back.

He was angry. Angry with fucking Yennefer, so obsessed with her. He didn't love her, he was a fucking fool to think that he loved her. No, he didn't love her, he was obsessed with her. There is a big difference. I am not obsessed with him. I left because I'm not obsessed with him. I'm jealous, and horrified to think of them, together, without me, but I know I can't do anything about her lover.

Geralt didn't tell me what he wished, what he did with that final wish. But I know. I listen, others listen for me. I know what he did. He did something to bind their fates together, something to force them together no matter what. He did it because of that morbid obsession. He knew what he was doing and didn't care.

Or maybe he was so full of that stupid lust-filled stupidity that he didn't know what he was doing. I'm so sick of him, so sick of his stupid obsession for her. I miss him. I love him. I hate this, I hate him, I hate her. I hate me.

I'm so sick of it. I'm so sick. I feel like crying, and I feel like running myself into a wall until I die, and I feel like throwing Yennefer off a bridge, and I feel like making him hurt. I don't know what to do with him, but I want him to hurt. I want him to feel one half of what he made me feel. Half of this. Maybe then he'll wake up.

I want him to come running towards me and kiss me and tell me he loves me, that he was an idiot and he's sorry...

But that won't happen now. I'm gone, already down the mountainside. He didn't try to call me back.

I'm done. I can't do it right now.

I'm so very tired.

General Author's Note

Please let me know if I have made any mistakes in this story, grammatical or otherwise. There is a human being behind this keyboard, and like everyone, she makes mistakes. Please feel free to criticize, but all I ask is that it be polite and constructive.

OW.

Anways, this is gonna go to the front. I keep movin 'em, and I'm sorry, but everything just feels so CHOPPY.