His Dreams of Memories

12

Nothing had really changed when it came to bathing Geralt. He still grunted when the water poured over his head, and he definitely scrunched up his nose at the smell of lavender.

"Thank you," Geralt said lowly. He had so much more to say, but talking had never really been his style. "For... this."

Jaskier hummed and crouched down to clean his shoulders off with a cloth. "Do you have anything else you wish to say to me?" The cloth's movement slowed as the brunette waited. He had decided to hear Geralt out first before talking his ear off.

"Jaskier-" his jaw clenched and his eyes closed. "I'm sorry. I-I wasn't angry at you, I just- I didn't know what to do, or how-" Geralt let out a frustrated sigh. "You were there, and I needed something to express my anger onto. I didn't mean a word I said."

The brunette nodded and licked his lips. "I just happened to be in your way, then?" He ignored the Witcher's flinch and stood up to find the grounded lavender. "You could've done anything else to express your anger, but you took it out on me." He promised himself he wouldn't cry, but he could feel the tears threatening to fall.

"I was just a tool to be used, then? Is that it?" Jaskier massaged Geralt's scalp roughly, his emotions were starting to get the best of him. "You could've walked off to breath, you could've gone to kill a monster, you could've done anything else, but you chose me." He choked out a laugh and allowed his hands to fall. "And after a year, a fucking year, you come to me, no— you have others look for me because you want me?

"Life gave you that blessing, Geralt! I was out of your hands- a huge weight off your shoulders- and now you want me back?" Jaskier scoffed. "You broke me, Geralt! I spent the first two months away from you begging myself to go back- but did I? No!

"People asked about you every time I played at an inn. 'Where's the Witcher?' 'Do you two not travel together anymore?' 'Play the song about the Witcher!'" The bard stood up and began to pace angrily. "Everywhere I went- you were there! Questions, comments, songs- all about you! All I was to them was your bard! Very few towns didn't push, because all they cared about was music. You-"

"The song you've been singing, 'Her Sweet Kiss', it's about me, isn't it?" Geralt interrupted quietly. He was tired of hearing how much pain he caused the bard.

Jaskier wagged his finger. "You don't get to change the subject, Geralt." He shook his head. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no- we're-"

"I PUSH AWAY THINGS I CARE ABOUT, JASKIER!" Geralt shouted, whipping his head to face Jaskier. His brows were furrowed in anger, and his lips were pointed downward- they equally expressed his anger. "You tried to be there- you showed that you cared- I didn't know how to respond to any of it, so I took it out on you, okay?! It wasn't a blessing- it turned to be a curse!"

For once in his life, Jaskier was speechless. The Witcher, the famous Geralt of Rivia cared for him- A bard of all people.

"You... you... care?" Jaskier could only put out those words. He couldn't face the man now- no, his eyes were glued to the wall. How could he after something like that?

Geralt sighed and put a hand to his forehead. "It's more than that." He wasn't ready to say this- but if he didn't do anything now, a feeling in his gut told him he would never get the chance. "I..." he took in a deep breath. "I love you, Jaskier." It sounded strange coming out of his mouth, but there was no turning back now.

Love. The bard turned around with parted lips, shocked at the Witcher's words. "You- no, you can't love me. You've- You've never shown me love- not even close to it."

Geralt stood up from the tub, ignoring the complaints from his wound. The bard stood still where he was and watched him walk closer.

"Then let me show you."

Julian shot of his bed with a gasp and reached for his night lamp's string.

When light filled the room, he desperately looked around for the Witcher- or even the smallest sign that he had been in the room.

"Oh god," he rested his head in his hands. An empty feeling tugged in his stomach as a single tear trailed down his cheek.

His past self had gotten what he wanted, Geralt of Rivia in his hands once again. They were together, lovers at last.

But he's still alone, the only part of him with Geralt was his dreams. And those weren't even his all they were to him-

Was his dreams of memories.