[ he does not go into detail what he is healing from, and she does not ask. perhaps that is some of the old routine coming back into play, or perhaps yennefer just knows that there is no point in asking. that he wouldn't tell her, even if she had.
maybe she's not sure if she is should. so she doesn't. it is as simple as that.
and whether or not geralt can tell, there is something so disarming about the next comment he makes that yennefer - without realizing it - lets out a small laugh into the silent, open air of her bedroom around her. ]
Just any bird? Or has he found a preference?
[ jaskier turns into a bird now. yennefer supposes she can't be all that surprise, that his magic has surpassed her's by such great lengths at this point, but there is something inherently right about the idea of jaskier turning into a bird. ]
[ It is after he sends the message—more thoughtless, more on a whim, than his typical decisions (because isn't that what she always drags out of him?)—that he pauses. Not in regret, exactly. More—
He doesn't mean to be pulled into. This. This, here, this thing that feels familiar, fills the smallest space in his chest. They can't go back to what they were. It's too late.
He cannot bring himself to be cold to her. He can't. He considers it, tries it, but he can't. They've hurt each other enough. In the end, what he adds is...subdued, perhaps, in its finality. A sense that he's reached a point in the bridge he does not yet want to cross. Doesn't think he can cross. ]
[ there's a smile to her face when she sees that - secretive and soft. jaskier, who has fully found himself living up to his very own name. ]
It's fitting.
[ is all she sends, though her eyes turn to her own piper, who is preening off in the corner of her room, a small nest he'd made for himself some months ago.
and the truth is - yennefer also doesn't recognize it, the falling into this old habit, into this rhythm she realizes she does know, does miss, does have space carved out for somewhere between her ribs. she doesn't notice it until that second message comes, until she blinks and feels...not brushed off, necessarily, but almost reprimanded. not by geralt, but by all of this. the space, the time, the fact she keeps falling back.
the smile falls. she does not say i always do, though part of her wishes she did, if only to create more space between them again. ]
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maybe she's not sure if she is should. so she doesn't. it is as simple as that.
and whether or not geralt can tell, there is something so disarming about the next comment he makes that yennefer - without realizing it - lets out a small laugh into the silent, open air of her bedroom around her. ] [ jaskier turns into a bird now. yennefer supposes she can't be all that surprise, that his magic has surpassed her's by such great lengths at this point, but there is something inherently right about the idea of jaskier turning into a bird. ]
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[ It is after he sends the message—more thoughtless, more on a whim, than his typical decisions (because isn't that what she always drags out of him?)—that he pauses. Not in regret, exactly. More—
He doesn't mean to be pulled into. This. This, here, this thing that feels familiar, fills the smallest space in his chest. They can't go back to what they were. It's too late.
He cannot bring himself to be cold to her. He can't. He considers it, tries it, but he can't. They've hurt each other enough. In the end, what he adds is...subdued, perhaps, in its finality. A sense that he's reached a point in the bridge he does not yet want to cross. Doesn't think he can cross. ]
Look after yourself.
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and the truth is - yennefer also doesn't recognize it, the falling into this old habit, into this rhythm she realizes she does know, does miss, does have space carved out for somewhere between her ribs. she doesn't notice it until that second message comes, until she blinks and feels...not brushed off, necessarily, but almost reprimanded. not by geralt, but by all of this. the space, the time, the fact she keeps falling back.
the smile falls. she does not say i always do, though part of her wishes she did, if only to create more space between them again. ]