He is going to do her in with these simple, perfect requests. To be fucked, to be cared for, to be kissed. All of these are within her power to fulfill. And she wants them. Suddenly, badly the way she has not wanted in years and years. The newness of this territory they explore does not resound with any other memories of any other person. First Jaskier makes it known that both he and Yennefer are refugees of the same heartbreak, then he proposes that they rinse the sadness in alcohol. After he tells her that this is is his chosen path in life. There is no way she could ever go back to seeing him as only an insufferable, fawning dolt. A songbird, a treasure, a man that is so very, very enthralling.

Fuck. Could she already be in love with him?

Critical thinking is not allowed. Jaskier is kissing her too thoroughly for that. Her tongue touching and dancing with his own, stealing the breath from her lungs. Can you draw out loneliness with a kiss and expel it? It's like she has forgotten the sensation. Her heart is light and eager. A little noise gets lost in her throat. "My, my. You work fast." The way his body shifts and trembles, she pets over his chest, one pec to the next and lightly scratches down over his belly. "And doing so very, very well on your own." Her nose rubs against his. A little peck at the corner of his mouth.