Is this what please you?

It was pathetic. The words he'd just shouted were pathetic, the tears streaming down his face were pathetic, the way he was still hopelessly hoping for Geralt to say that he'd done nothing wrong, that he did need him, that everything was going to be okay and that he'd never leave Jaskier behind again was pathetic. But it was still real.

And now, he was faced with a Geralt that was frozen in shock. A Geralt who was far from taking him into his arms and comforting him. No, the Witcher looked like Jaskier had punched him in the gut.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Witcher, that honor goes to Andrzej Sapkowski, the author of the original books.

I accidentally deleted this so here I am, reposting it. Thank Melitele that I wrote it on ao3 first so I didn't loose the actual text.