Jaskier's fingers stilled as they moved across Geralt's skin. He drew them away, just slightly, before he did something stupid like letting them tense on one of those rows of sutures. He covered the gesture by reaching for the cleanser for Geralt's hair, this was old hat--this was familiar and not at all risky. The laugh he let out as he did was only slightly forced.
Oh, he did not...have the energy to keep this up. He wanted to be a good friend, to help Geralt feel better about how terrible the situation was...but if the Witcher was going to keep complimenting him, joking about these things, he could not keep up deflecting much longer. He maintained his smile but it was a wan attempt.
"I do have deft fingers, I will admit," Jaskier joked with some humor in his tone as he cleaned the sweat and thin layers of dried blood, of alcohol and salve, from Geralt's hair. This was not how he normally indulged, there was far less combing and scrubbing to be had, here. Jaskier was jittery already.
"I could have been a brilliant tailor...but alas, music calls to me," he prattled and scooped up water between his hands, to rinse the Witcher's hair and the span of his back. Fuck--he was going to have to move where Geralt could see him, next.
He took a moment to touch and examine the bandages in his side--they still had to soak free, but that could be done with focus after bathing. The water was already tinged pink, no need to make it more blood than not.
"I will definitely have to invent an appearance for that gods' awful creature, though," Jaskier continued, only half minding what he said as he drew his stool around to face Geralt's side and take one of his arms in hand. "An eyeless face filled with children's teeth, while memorable, is more haunting than my usual fare."
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Oh, he did not...have the energy to keep this up. He wanted to be a good friend, to help Geralt feel better about how terrible the situation was...but if the Witcher was going to keep complimenting him, joking about these things, he could not keep up deflecting much longer. He maintained his smile but it was a wan attempt.
"I do have deft fingers, I will admit," Jaskier joked with some humor in his tone as he cleaned the sweat and thin layers of dried blood, of alcohol and salve, from Geralt's hair. This was not how he normally indulged, there was far less combing and scrubbing to be had, here. Jaskier was jittery already.
"I could have been a brilliant tailor...but alas, music calls to me," he prattled and scooped up water between his hands, to rinse the Witcher's hair and the span of his back. Fuck--he was going to have to move where Geralt could see him, next.
He took a moment to touch and examine the bandages in his side--they still had to soak free, but that could be done with focus after bathing. The water was already tinged pink, no need to make it more blood than not.
"I will definitely have to invent an appearance for that gods' awful creature, though," Jaskier continued, only half minding what he said as he drew his stool around to face Geralt's side and take one of his arms in hand. "An eyeless face filled with children's teeth, while memorable, is more haunting than my usual fare."