My Domestica | My Bodyguard Book 2

Chapter 4 | Ice

Julian POV

Jaskier swallowed the lump in his throat as he continued to cut wood, he didn't stop. He let out some anger on the wood at some point.

Sobbed and sunk down next to it. Became depressed, unmoving. And he stayed like that. He was in the snow. The freezing cold, the ice freezing at his skin but he ignored it.

It wasn't until later when one of the men came by, Mike from the bar, he came to help Jaskier with the wood but rushed to the violently shaking man. He grabbed him and carried him to the bar as fast as possible. Jaskier was awake. He understood everything but he felt numb. This had happened before while he had been here, a few times actually. He would have a anxiety attack before a manic episode.

Mike kicked the door open and walked in cradling Jaskier in his arms, instantly settling him down by the fire. He took off Jaskiers old gloves and clothing which was now soaked. The few people who noticed the commotion rushed to help and within no time he was covered in blankets from head to toe.

Was there any point of even running anymore? He was mainly trying to build a new life, but for what? Was there even a point in trying to? He was silent externally. A nod if he agreed to something someone said to him but that was all.

He stared into the fire until people started piling back in, Mike helped move Him with Jewels pudding behind to help make Jaskier comfortable with whatever they knew what to do. Which wasn't much. Blankets and a safe room was all they could think of. Jaskier wasn't very open about it with anyone.

He stayed there the night. Hidden out the back. If anyone asked where he was Jewel or Mike would just give them a look and they would know. It wasn't uncommon for it to happen, but it was unfortunate when it did.

Geralt POV

Geralt remembered what Irys had said about there being free hot chocolate at the bar soon. Tonight or the next night, he didn't remember which. Not that it mattered. Geralt wasn't going back. Not today, certainly, and not tomorrow either. He had too much to think through, and he doubted Irys wanted him around. The man had been trying to rebuild himself, and then Geralt had come along.

Gods he was already regretting this trip. Ciri was enjoying herself. Geralt should have stayed home. He might have found work, even. Or he might have been attacked in the streets. At least he wasn't back in Austria, or worse, Blaviken. He doubted he would be taking or given any assignments near there for a while. Possibly years. Maybe ever. That was fine. He had made a mistake, he would suffer the consequences.

Geralt was lying on the mattress now, hands laced under his head. Roach was somewhere downstairs, judging from what he could hear of her walking around. He had been pacing for hours, had stopped to eat once. There had been a few leftovers, some cheese, and a couple of single-serving yogurts. Geralt hadn't been hungry after the events of the day, but considering that he hadn't eaten that morning, he knew he would need to.

And now he was back to lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The light was off, and it was growing steadily darker outside. Geralt could see out a window through the doorway since the door wasn't entirely closed.

He didn't know what to do with himself currently. He didn't feel the need to sleep. Roach apparently did, but Geralt didn't. Browsing the web or reading had no appeal to him. He felt both tired and listless, but he knew the test was a long way off. Sighing, Geralt got up to grab his things and go for a walk around the town.