Sunflower

"Jaskier."

Jaskier finally lifts his head, making eye contact. "What?"

Geralt swallows, staring at Jaskier. "You don't have to do that."

Jaskier frowns, visibly confused. He stares back. "Do what?"

Geralt exhales. "Whatever you're doing right now." His face heats up, even though he's not sure why, and he doesn't like it.

Jaskier blinks. "I'm not doing anything," he says. His fingers have stopped moving, and Geralt thinks that he genuinely isn't aware that he's even touching Geralt's hair.

"You are," Geralt insists. "You're braiding my hair." His voice is colorless.