Unwanted Love (UP FOR ADOPTION)

3

Jaskier was quite intrigued of the brooding Witcher. Perhaps it was the man's reputation? He honestly hadn't a clue, but the reputation part seemed... right? A strange voice that was unheard of until now in his head told him to follow the Witcher, so he followed it.

"Ah, need a hand?" Jaskier asked the Witcher after finally catching up with him. "I've got two for... each of the devil's horns." He cringed a bit at the awkwardness in his tone, but it the concern of it went away when the Witcher glared at the road in front of them.

"Go away," Geralt grumbled, loud enough for the bard to hear.

The bard ignored him, the same voice in his head telling him to continue to bother- follow the Witcher. "I won't be but a silent backup," Jaskier promised. "Look, I heard your note, and yes, you're right, maybe real adventures would make better stories." He tightened his grip on his lute's strap. "And you, sir, smell choke-full of them. Amongst other things." He paused to take a breath, as well as move a little closer to try and bring out the rest of the man's scent. (Not in a strange way, mind you) "I mean, what is that, onion-? It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, you smell of death and destiny. Heroics and heartbreak."

Geralt did not turn to look at the bard after the spew of adjectives ceased. "It's onion." 

Onion. Jaskier looked at the Witcher for a moment, before pursing his lips and turning back to face the road. "Right. Yeah- Ooh! I could be your barker, spreading the tales of Geralt of Rivia, the- the Butcher Of Blaviken!" His arms were spread out, presenting the idea with a large smile on his face.

This time, Geralt did stop. His face was hard, trying not to look too annoyed. Turning around after his mare stopped, he motioned Jaskier over with his hand. "Come here."

Jaskier happily did so, dropping his arms and stepping closer to the Witcher. "Yeah-" Geralt's fist slammed into the bard's gut, making him fall to the ground in pain. But the pain was masked with a hint of warmth. Not big enough to fully be something, but Jaskier felt it either way. He looked up, watching the Witcher's face morph into something he couldn't quite point out.

The Witcher's eyes weren't narrowed or dark anymore. His brows were furrowed in confusion, matching his expression. He looked down at his fist, then at Jaskier, who had made himself a tad more comfortable on the ground instead of lying there in pain.

With a grunt, and not fully meeting Jaskier's eyes, Geralt turned around and walked back to his mare. "C'mon Roach." He walked away faster than he should've, but the strange sense that he shouldn't be feeling is quite uncomfortable.

And the bard's look toward him didn't help one bit.

(I'm sorry for not updating! I feel like shit for not doing so! But I should be a little more active on this book now... only a little though. I got finals on the first week of December... so... yep! Also: Chapters will always be this short because there's only a few episodes and the clips are... semi-long. I feel better writing short bits so there'll be more chapters. ANYWAY- see you soon!)

(ONE MORE THING! Geralt is wearing GLOVES- please take note of that!)