treblemaking: (08)
Jaskier ♫ ([personal profile] treblemaking) wrote in [personal profile] doesntsing 2025-08-18 09:25 pm (UTC)

"Isn't art a form of expression as well?"

The sound of pencil on paper is soothing, and Jaskier soon falls asleep on her lap. He's comfy and warm, although the warmth is probably his own body. Even if his mind is working slowly right now, part of him is aware of a presence that he finds comforting.

Around half an hour later, Midge will hear the front door opening and closing, and lots of heavy things being dropped around the house. In just a few minutes, the door to Jaskier's room opens and Geralt appears with wide eyes, not expecting to see her there. There's a reason for that: he smells like absolute dogshit, and that is blocking his nose. His shirt is clean because he took off the real offender (his armor) and he's barefoot, so no mud left behind. But there are some weird stains on his pants and hair.

"...hello," he says as intense yellow eyes take in the scene in front of him. Soon, the kicked dog face that Jaskier described earlier takes over his expression. The guilt is strong. "Did he trap you here?"

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