My Domestica | My Bodyguard Book 2

Chapter 40 | Lay

Geralt POV

Geralt kept his eyes closed when he heard Jaskier's with, not knowing when he had closed them. But evidently he had.

He made a sound to signify that he was, in fact, awake. Another sound to acknowledge that Jaskier was leaving.

Was that.. no, he was imagining things. His senses weren't that heightened, all the time. Sometimes, yes, he could smell emotions, or hear a heartbeat, but not always. The thing that was giving away Jaskier's fear was his posture. Geralt cracked his eyes open to check if his other senses had been correct. They were, and he wished he had been wrong. He closed his eyes again, letting another moment pass.

He opened his eyes as he felt Jaskier remain sitting on the bed, not moving. Geralt sat up, shifting backward to have his back against the wall. There was no headboard, not on this bed. "Jask." He said quietly into the dimness. It was a question phrased as a statement. Was the man alright? Obviously not, but then, why wasn't he moving? He should be moving. Geralt didn't want to push it, though. Maybe Jaskier just needed a minute to catch his breath.

So Geralt just watched the man, seeing if his presence was wanted or if he should have pretended to be asleep.

Julian POV

Jaskier swallowed, feeling the lump in his throat rise higher and threatening to come out as a sob. Instead, tears just rolled down his face and dripped onto his lap. He looked down, eyes looking at where the droplet landed and watched as another one fell to accompany it. He just had to say his name. Dammit, it was breaking him. Obviously there are just a lot of things going on his his head.

He didn't mind the fact of showing Geralt that he was afraid to go back. He was more than afraid, he was terrified. But he would not let that be fully shown, not even to himself. He was afraid Geralt would have to comfort him, to look after him and him still be so damn weak. Here he was, trying to help Geralt but all he could do was be pathetic compared to him. He was frustrated with himself at the same time with not being damn well good enough.

He moved his gaze to looked over his shoulder, looking to Geralt over his shoulder without actually looking to him before facing back forwards before swallowing, the lump just kept damn well raising upwards. Geralt needed to sleep, he did not need this shit.

He was torn in so many directions at the moment that he didn't know to leave or to curl into Geralts chest and sob. Instead, he decided with a middle ground. He placed his hand out towards Geralts direction, not bothering to move too much because he did not know if Geralt would take his hand or not. But he would just wait to see, as that is all he could do.

Geralt POV

Geralt frowned, still getting only fear and tears from Jaskier. Jaskier was always so full of life, this just felt.. wrong. Off. Not right. The tears, he didn't mind. The fear, he didn't mind. Even both together were alright. But both together, and only the two of them present, bothered him more than he cared to think about.

Geralt tried in vain to catch Jaskier's eye as the man looked at him over his shoulder. But he wasn't being looked at directly, and Jaskier chose to face forwards again soon after. Geralt bit back a sigh. There was no need for that sound right now.

He took the man's hand when it was finally offered. Took it, and grasped it tightly. He was leaning some to reach the man, and so instead he moved closer. He was now sitting centered on the bed, legs crossed in front of him. Geralt's eyes were searching the part of the man's face he could see for anything helpful. He could see the tears. Dammit, that was very much not. Except as a clue to how Jaskier was doing right now, it absolutely was. Geralt stayed where he was, choosing to let Jaskier come closer if he wanted Geralt's comfort.