It's ironic, because Jaskier is thinking the same thing: this guy doesn't know him, yet he speaks like he understands Jaskier and the way he thinks. His heart constricts when Lenny says moving on to someone else, memories flooding his mind of how he learned the hard fucking way that he can't give people what they want when it comes to love.
Before he can stop himself, his hand closes around Lenny's wrist when he reaches for the ashtray.
"You're right. What you want isn't always what is good for you." He isn't being sarcastic; the agreement is sincere. "And I'm not what Midge needs - which I've already told her. Several times." He hisses the last part, barely containing his anger. He's fucking tired of people looking to put the blame on him when he's been clear about his intentions since the fucking beginning. What his heart feels is irrelevant. "If you truly want her to be happy, if you're truly against the idea of pushing - then don't push her toward me, either. Because right now? You're doing exactly what you're scolding me for."
Jaskier finally lets go of Lenny's wrist then, and doesn't believe him when he says he looks forward to his music. He doesn't answer, though; he just finishes his beer in one go, desperate to drown all the thoughts in his head.
Can you?
His limbs moving on automatic, Jaskier rushes backstage and through the back door so he can make it to the alley. The smell of the trash containers is awful, but he doesn't care now. He just kicks a can as he lets out a very loud fuck, the U elongated enough to scare away a cat.
He's in a bad mood now, but he doesn't want to leave. Usually, this is the kind of thing he'd chase away with a quick orgasm in a bathroom stall, yet sex is what put him on the spot in the first place. Talking to Geralt often worked, too, yet again - this is the one subject where the witcher will make it worse.
Molly finds him, then, innocently looking for her singer to start a jamming session, only for her face to drop when she sees the state Jaskier is in. Before she can ask anything, Jaskier quotes something she said to him in the past (Let's rock their socks off.) before following her inside.
Music is good. Music is orgasmic, too. Music can take over his body and make him forget, at least for a little while. He rushes to the stage and takes his guitar without a word, causing his band to gasp and run after him while teasing him for not doing a proper call.
Usually, Jaskier would say something sweet to the public, introduce the band and all, but now he directly throws himself into the music. They stick to covers so everyone can dance and Jaskier doesn't have to worry about revisions of his new material. He pours all his emotions into his singing and doesn't use a pick on the guitar, wanting to feel the vibrations of the strings right on his skin.
The good thing about covers is that people sing along. Jaskier basks in the attention and lets the cheers of the crowd make love to his ears so he can lose himself in creative bliss.
It’s a fair point. Lenny doesn’t know him. Jaskier could be a horrible person. Maybe both of them need to stop trying to manipulate her and let her decide what she wants, even if it’s obvious to him that Midge wants Jaskier.
She sure can pick em, can’t she?
Meanwhile, Midge has been working with Perdita and they have the beginning of a stand up set for her. It’s nice that other women are getting into comedy. There are too many unfunny men.
The dwarf leaves to help with managing the bar. A few minutes later, Jaskier storms on stage, looking irritated. Midge had seen him speaking with Lenny at the bar. What happened?
She gets lost in the music, grinning up at him on stage. After a few songs, Lenny comes to sit next to her. “He’s good,” he says.
“He is,” she replies. “Whatever you said to him pissed him off.”
Lenny is quiet for a moment, choosing his words. “Are you happy?”
Midge looks at him, searching his face for any sort of indication that this is a trick question. Finding none, she answers honestly. “Yes. I am.” Things aren’t ideal, but she’s happy.
Jaskier stays on the stage for the rest of the night.
It's unusual for him - this kind of event usually means a mix of mingling and performing. But while it may be unusual, it isn't strange - he's a musician, this is an art event, it makes sense for him to spend his time making music. Sometimes it's with the band, other times other musicians come in and they play a little improvisation game with him. He doesn't always sing; sometimes he gives the crowd a break from dancing and relaxes with quiet, simple tunes on his guitar while chugging down water. He needs water when he's performing for too long, necessary to take care of his voice - but he suspects Dick quickly brought a water bottle to the stage to stop him from drinking more. It's fair, and Jaskier is thankful. It wouldn't be a good idea to end the night drunk.
What is strange is him not engaging the public more closely. Sure, he asks for requests and encourages everyone to dance, but he's always speaking in general. He doesn't do that thing where he looks at every single person in the eye to make them feel like he's singing directly to them... and that's because he doesn't want to look too closely to check if Midge and Lenny are dancing or not. He doesn't want to think, he just wants to lose himself in the music.
Eventually, the event has to end. Little by little, people leave the bar, always happy to have enjoyed a night of inspiration. Jaskier helps other musicians put away their instruments, which is something he always does but also a way to buy time. What brings him back to reality is an artist approaching him before leaving to gift him a page from her notebook. It's full of little sketches, mostly of Jaskier's expressions on the stage. One sketch stands out among the others, though: it's him and Midge dancing. The artist captured all their emotions very well, and Jaskier is in love with the level of detail but also can feel his stomach turning at what he sees.
That's not all: the artist says she's given Midge 'the twin'. Shaken between curiosity and nervous wreck, Jaskier picks up his things and finally goes back to the couch. Midge has the right page to his left, and it's full of sketches of her too, in her case, her expressions whenever she told funny anecdotes while she mingled. Her own kind of performance. Instead of her and Jaskier dancing, her 'centerpiece' is them writing together on the couch. The emotions are just as detailed.
He takes a deep breath, almost as if needing to gather courage before speaking. "Told you the artists would find you inspiring."
Midge has only seen Jaskier perform on stage a few times, but she can tell that there’s something different about tonight. He’s fantastic as always, but he’s not interacting with the crowd as much as he normally does. She wonders if their conversation upset him or if it was something that Lenny said to him.
Lenny is curiously silent around Midge, just watching her watch Jaskier. When Jaskier plays a ballad, he asks her to dance and she accepts. They dance slowly together, though not as closely or as intimately as she danced with Jaskier. It’s still nice. Lenny’s a great guy. Things might be different if circumstances were different. Or if she’d never met Jaskier.
The night wears on and eventually Lenny stands up to go. He clasps Midge’s hand and tells her to take care of herself before disappearing into the smoky darkness of the club.
When Jaskier finishes playing, Midge retreats back to the couch where she had started the evening. One of the artists approaches her, wanting to give her some of the quick sketches that she made of her. They’re quite good, and they make Midge smile.
She’s gazing at the one of she and Jaskier dancing with her head on his shoulder when Jaskier himself approaches. Midge offers him a smile. “Must have been a slow night for them,” she says softly, reaching for his hand. “You were great.”
"Thanks," he simply replies. Her hand is warm in his - always is. Before he can stop himself, he raises her hand to his face to nuzzle it with a tired sigh. It's not fair - he's in desperate need of comfort, yet the person who can provide it -the one he wants to cling to as if his life depended on it- is also the one who has him feeling like this. Geralt is probably snorting at him at home just from the vibes.
He doesn't know what to do, what to say, and that's a big fucking deal from this big mouth.
"Let me wash up and we can get going." Because a little makeup goes unnoticed, but all this makeup may end up in a hate crime. Should they going? He doesn't know, he's just moving through his sheer need to be with her.
He barely takes three steps toward the bathroom before he comes back, a worried and pained expression on his face.
"Why did you think I was trying to get rid of you?"
Midge still isn’t sure if Jaskier is upset with her, but is glad to have him nuzzle her hand. His question leaves her furrowing her brow.
“I guess I thought that you were trying to get me to go home with someone else tonight, and I thought it was because you didn’t want me, not because you were trying to make me happy,” she says. “You make me happy though.”
His heart skips a beat - how can it not? Making a beloved one happy will always be something to be proud and happy about. It's not enough, though - or at least, it won't be. Sooner or later, she'll want a husband. And that's fine, Jaskier isn't that dumb. Usually, he wouldn't think about that all, he lives in the present. But these conversations keep coming back and, most importantly, he's got the feeling that Midge has stopped looking. And that's terrifying.
"I also keep upsetting you. Making you cry. I don't want to hurt you!" He throws his hands up in frustration. Here comes all the gesturing. "I'm so fucking tired of them making me feel like I'm the bad guy here - yet I can't even deny it, I can't say I would never because we keep dancing back to this over and over again!"
Lenny said something. Whatever it was doesn’t really matter. The intent is the same from him, from her parents, from Joel - this man will hurt you.
Midge takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. This maybe isn’t the place or the time, but Midge knows that she can’t keep denying this to him.
“I’m falling in love with you,” she admits, feeling her heart start to race with worry. If he’s going to hurt her, she’d rather get it over with, but that’s not what she hopes for with this admission. “Are you telling me that you don’t feel the same way?”
There is none of the usual dramatics when he gasps this time. Should he even be surprised? Isn't this why he wanted to have the conversation? Isn't this what he's been suspecting? What has been sketched in the pages of that artist's notebook? The signs have always been there.
His heart constricts again and for a moment, he can't breathe. He should be happy that she feels like he does, but his body is frozen. It's not a romantic moment - it doesn't feel like the lovers coming together at the final act of that romantic comedy. It feels like the end of a drama. It feels like the beginning of the end.
His shoulders drop, so do his hands - they keep shaking, but there's no gesturing. Just... defeat.
"...no." He finally manages to answer with a weak, pathetic voice. "I never said that." This is the worst way to confess his feelings; it goes against everything he is. "But I have the feeling that's not all you're asking."
Boy, some love confession this is. It’s disappointing, as is Jaskier’s later response. Midge knew she was taking a risk by telling him that she was developing feelings for him.
She stands up and goes to him. In public probably isn’t the greatest place for this conversation, but it’s too late for that.
“You’re saying that you’re falling in love with me too, I think, so yes, of course I want more than sex with you. Why is that so bad, Jaskier? Don’t we make each other happy, even outside the bedroom?”
Luckily, they're the only ones left in the bar. Perdita enters the main area to check on them, but as soon as she sees their faces, she disappears and gives them their privacy.
She comes to him, and he steps back, only one thing echoing in his brain: told you so in the voice of a certain witcher. His hands continue to open and close as he fights the urge to reach out for her. He doesn't want to lose her - at least, not like this. He was supposed to watch her find the love of her life slowly and be genuinely happy for her.
This isn't him singing at her wedding; this is her organizing his funeral.
"You do make me happy, and for me, that's enough. I like my freedom. I like waking up in the morning and choosing to leave for a week with Geralt to follow trails of wyvern crap on the mountains without having to explain myself to anyone."
His voice is starting to rise, frustration and heartbreak forming a hurricane of emotions in his chest that has been enhanced by the conversation with Lenny.
"I make you happy for now. Because I'm the new and exciting bloke bored housewives have fun with. But I'm not a husband, I'm not the estimable man that good girls take home to their parents." He raises a hand, as if anticipating what she may say. "And don't you fucking dare say we already did that, because we both know how that ended. I can behave for survival, I did it for years in court-- but I refuse to 'behave'-" He signs the quotation marks. "-in my fucking private life! What exactly do you think would happen if you took the real me to one of your religious holiday dinners?"
She’s about to say that she doesn’t mind if he travels with Geralt to hunt monsters. He won’t have to explain it to her. But then he keeps going and his words hit her like a ton of bricks.
“Is that why you think I’m with you, because I’m a bored housewife? Jaskier, it didn’t go well with my parents because they could tell we were lying. They knew we were more than just friends. You hardly even gave them a chance. The first sign of them disagreeing with you about something and you went off.
This isn’t about my parents though. It’s about us. I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m just asking to be enough for you.”
Why does it feel like she’s never enough for anyone?
"No, I don't think it's the only reason why you're with me. But I do think it's given you a rose-colored opinion of me." He huffs. "I don't like your parents, Midge. Is that what you wanted me to tell you? There you go. Before I even met them, I was already annoyed by the mere idea of them because of how they fucking treat you."
He starts pacing as he runs his hands through his hair and drags them down his face, smearing the makeup. It matches his heartbroken face and the way his stomach keeps turning. Gosh, he better not throw up in the middle of this.
"You already are enough!" He exclaims as he opens his arms. "You're the one asking for more!"
This isn’t supposed to be about her parents, but she can’t help but ask anyway: “What do you mean how they treat me?” she asks. “They don’t treat me badly.”
Midge watches him looking distraught, and she can’t help but wonder why he seems to be fighting himself on this. Is it because he thinks he’s about to lose the sex?
“I’m asking you to only be with me.” Midge says, blinking away the tears that are forming in her eyes. “And the fact that you don’t want to can only mean that I’m not enough for you. Even if you’re falling in love with me too, it still isn’t enough for some reason.”
"They didn't even notice you disappeared overnight."
Jaskier wants to add more, but then he turns around and sees her crying. He deflates and hates himself, which isn't fair, because he warned her about this, over and over and over... and yet, here he is, being the bad guy. Just like everyone predicted. Joel will probably gloat, the bastard.
"I already told you the reason many a time. I warned you before either of us developed any feelings. Hell, I'll eat my sheet music if Geralt hasn't warned you too! How could it be you when I explained everything the day we fucking met?" He drags his hands down his face again. He wishes he could rip his heart out of his chest and put it in her hands just to prove his words - and mayhaps because it would hurt less. "It's not you - you're an amazing woman who deserves a man that will meet your every need. That will make you and your kids truly happy. I am not that man, Midge."
They don’t keep tabs on her 24/7. She’s a grown woman. But she’s not going to argue with him about her parents right now.
“Things change, Jaskier. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, and I’m sure you didn’t expect it either.” Midge shakes her head, wiping tears from her cheeks. “You don’t want to be that man, and that’s fine. I shouldn’t have expected that you would change for me. That was my mistake.”
Turning back to the couch, Midge shoves the drawing into her notebook, then picks it up along with her purse.
“I guess this is goodbye, then,” she says between sobs, “because I can’t do this anymore if I have to keep lying to everyone about how I feel about you.”
"I TRIED to be that man in the past!" he snaps. He feels so fucking bad for making her cry, but he also feels bad for feeling bad - this isn't his fault. Why is he the bad guy here? "It does NOT work. I'm pretty fucking sure I shared that too." Another huff. "I thought you liked me for who I am. Yet all this time, you've been expecting me to change?" He shakes his head. "See, this is exactly what I'm talking about."
Tears appear in his eyes, too. Seeing her pick up her things makes it all more real - it's the final nail in the coffin. Jaskier swallows a sob.
"I'm guessing being literal friends wouldn't be enough either?" Because he would be fine with that. He can have sex somewhere else, her company is special. He hangs his head. "Goodbye, Miriam."
“I do like you for who you are. I love everything about you. Anyone can see that; I couldn’t hide it if I tried. I thought maybe I was special enough for you to try being in a relationship again.”
She feels like she misread everything from him, and that makes her feel like a fool. Her heart feels like it’s literally breaking in her chest.
“I-I don’t know,” she says, still crying. “I need some time. Goodbye, Jaskier.”
Midge brushes past him to exit the club. The only sounds in the room are her gentle sobs and the clicking of her heels on the floor.
Perdita watches as Midge leaves, then sticks her head in the door to yell at Jaskier. “Go after her, you idiot!”
Suddenly, he's forty again, and he's being abandoned on top of a mountain. Never before in his life had someone broken his heart like Geralt did that day, not even the Countess. Now it's happening again - a heart shattered in tiny pieces, his legs frozen and unable to go home because he doesn't know what home is anymore. The same song plays...
I’m weak, my love, and I am wanting
Jaskier collapses on the couch and cries his heart out. He doesn't even register Perdita's voice, not that he would've followed her command if he had. Moments later, a thick pale hand is petting his head. Perdita must've called him.
"Don't you dare fucking say it."
"Mmh."
He asks Geralt to drive him around the city for a few hours, even if it's late. He claims he needs the distraction and the fresh air, which isn't a completely bad idea, but mostly he wants an excuse to hold his best friend for a while.
The family works together to hide all the alcohol in the house. Bastards.
It's a good thing that he's been so busy lately, because he needs those things to keep him distracted. Ironically, one of those things is the rehearsal for the wedding. Jaskier doesn't cancel it - he needs such a gig, and he won't take this away from the band. Heartbreak makes the ballads sound better anyway.
A different man fucks him every night, because he knows that he'll need some time before he'll be able to pick up a woman without thinking about her. And being pounded into oblivion is part of the not thinking process - or it should be, anyway. It's not the same. There's no spark. He wants his lovely, witty spark back.
If orgasms won't silence his brain, then he'll get the alcohol (and the mushrooms) himself. That's how, on Tuesday evening, Geralt will be carrying an unconscious Jaskier on his back out of a bar. He's done this many times before and knows how to fit the bard perfectly between his shoulder blades.
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Before he can stop himself, his hand closes around Lenny's wrist when he reaches for the ashtray.
"You're right. What you want isn't always what is good for you." He isn't being sarcastic; the agreement is sincere. "And I'm not what Midge needs - which I've already told her. Several times." He hisses the last part, barely containing his anger. He's fucking tired of people looking to put the blame on him when he's been clear about his intentions since the fucking beginning. What his heart feels is irrelevant. "If you truly want her to be happy, if you're truly against the idea of pushing - then don't push her toward me, either. Because right now? You're doing exactly what you're scolding me for."
Jaskier finally lets go of Lenny's wrist then, and doesn't believe him when he says he looks forward to his music. He doesn't answer, though; he just finishes his beer in one go, desperate to drown all the thoughts in his head.
Can you?
His limbs moving on automatic, Jaskier rushes backstage and through the back door so he can make it to the alley. The smell of the trash containers is awful, but he doesn't care now. He just kicks a can as he lets out a very loud fuck, the U elongated enough to scare away a cat.
He's in a bad mood now, but he doesn't want to leave. Usually, this is the kind of thing he'd chase away with a quick orgasm in a bathroom stall, yet sex is what put him on the spot in the first place. Talking to Geralt often worked, too, yet again - this is the one subject where the witcher will make it worse.
Molly finds him, then, innocently looking for her singer to start a jamming session, only for her face to drop when she sees the state Jaskier is in. Before she can ask anything, Jaskier quotes something she said to him in the past (Let's rock their socks off.) before following her inside.
Music is good. Music is orgasmic, too. Music can take over his body and make him forget, at least for a little while. He rushes to the stage and takes his guitar without a word, causing his band to gasp and run after him while teasing him for not doing a proper call.
Usually, Jaskier would say something sweet to the public, introduce the band and all, but now he directly throws himself into the music. They stick to covers so everyone can dance and Jaskier doesn't have to worry about revisions of his new material. He pours all his emotions into his singing and doesn't use a pick on the guitar, wanting to feel the vibrations of the strings right on his skin.
The good thing about covers is that people sing along. Jaskier basks in the attention and lets the cheers of the crowd make love to his ears so he can lose himself in creative bliss.
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She sure can pick em, can’t she?
Meanwhile, Midge has been working with Perdita and they have the beginning of a stand up set for her. It’s nice that other women are getting into comedy. There are too many unfunny men.
The dwarf leaves to help with managing the bar. A few minutes later, Jaskier storms on stage, looking irritated. Midge had seen him speaking with Lenny at the bar. What happened?
She gets lost in the music, grinning up at him on stage. After a few songs, Lenny comes to sit next to her. “He’s good,” he says.
“He is,” she replies. “Whatever you said to him pissed him off.”
Lenny is quiet for a moment, choosing his words. “Are you happy?”
Midge looks at him, searching his face for any sort of indication that this is a trick question. Finding none, she answers honestly. “Yes. I am.” Things aren’t ideal, but she’s happy.
“That’s all that matters.”
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It's unusual for him - this kind of event usually means a mix of mingling and performing. But while it may be unusual, it isn't strange - he's a musician, this is an art event, it makes sense for him to spend his time making music. Sometimes it's with the band, other times other musicians come in and they play a little improvisation game with him. He doesn't always sing; sometimes he gives the crowd a break from dancing and relaxes with quiet, simple tunes on his guitar while chugging down water. He needs water when he's performing for too long, necessary to take care of his voice - but he suspects Dick quickly brought a water bottle to the stage to stop him from drinking more. It's fair, and Jaskier is thankful. It wouldn't be a good idea to end the night drunk.
What is strange is him not engaging the public more closely. Sure, he asks for requests and encourages everyone to dance, but he's always speaking in general. He doesn't do that thing where he looks at every single person in the eye to make them feel like he's singing directly to them... and that's because he doesn't want to look too closely to check if Midge and Lenny are dancing or not. He doesn't want to think, he just wants to lose himself in the music.
Eventually, the event has to end. Little by little, people leave the bar, always happy to have enjoyed a night of inspiration. Jaskier helps other musicians put away their instruments, which is something he always does but also a way to buy time. What brings him back to reality is an artist approaching him before leaving to gift him a page from her notebook. It's full of little sketches, mostly of Jaskier's expressions on the stage. One sketch stands out among the others, though: it's him and Midge dancing. The artist captured all their emotions very well, and Jaskier is in love with the level of detail but also can feel his stomach turning at what he sees.
That's not all: the artist says she's given Midge 'the twin'. Shaken between curiosity and nervous wreck, Jaskier picks up his things and finally goes back to the couch. Midge has the right page to his left, and it's full of sketches of her too, in her case, her expressions whenever she told funny anecdotes while she mingled. Her own kind of performance. Instead of her and Jaskier dancing, her 'centerpiece' is them writing together on the couch. The emotions are just as detailed.
He takes a deep breath, almost as if needing to gather courage before speaking. "Told you the artists would find you inspiring."
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Lenny is curiously silent around Midge, just watching her watch Jaskier. When Jaskier plays a ballad, he asks her to dance and she accepts. They dance slowly together, though not as closely or as intimately as she danced with Jaskier. It’s still nice. Lenny’s a great guy. Things might be different if circumstances were different. Or if she’d never met Jaskier.
The night wears on and eventually Lenny stands up to go. He clasps Midge’s hand and tells her to take care of herself before disappearing into the smoky darkness of the club.
When Jaskier finishes playing, Midge retreats back to the couch where she had started the evening. One of the artists approaches her, wanting to give her some of the quick sketches that she made of her. They’re quite good, and they make Midge smile.
She’s gazing at the one of she and Jaskier dancing with her head on his shoulder when Jaskier himself approaches. Midge offers him a smile. “Must have been a slow night for them,” she says softly, reaching for his hand. “You were great.”
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He doesn't know what to do, what to say, and that's a big fucking deal from this big mouth.
"Let me wash up and we can get going." Because a little makeup goes unnoticed, but all this makeup may end up in a hate crime. Should they going? He doesn't know, he's just moving through his sheer need to be with her.
He barely takes three steps toward the bathroom before he comes back, a worried and pained expression on his face.
"Why did you think I was trying to get rid of you?"
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“I guess I thought that you were trying to get me to go home with someone else tonight, and I thought it was because you didn’t want me, not because you were trying to make me happy,” she says. “You make me happy though.”
That’s the long and short of it.
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His heart skips a beat - how can it not? Making a beloved one happy will always be something to be proud and happy about. It's not enough, though - or at least, it won't be. Sooner or later, she'll want a husband. And that's fine, Jaskier isn't that dumb. Usually, he wouldn't think about that all, he lives in the present. But these conversations keep coming back and, most importantly, he's got the feeling that Midge has stopped looking. And that's terrifying.
"I also keep upsetting you. Making you cry. I don't want to hurt you!" He throws his hands up in frustration. Here comes all the gesturing. "I'm so fucking tired of them making me feel like I'm the bad guy here - yet I can't even deny it, I can't say I would never because we keep dancing back to this over and over again!"
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Midge takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. This maybe isn’t the place or the time, but Midge knows that she can’t keep denying this to him.
“I’m falling in love with you,” she admits, feeling her heart start to race with worry. If he’s going to hurt her, she’d rather get it over with, but that’s not what she hopes for with this admission. “Are you telling me that you don’t feel the same way?”
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His heart constricts again and for a moment, he can't breathe. He should be happy that she feels like he does, but his body is frozen. It's not a romantic moment - it doesn't feel like the lovers coming together at the final act of that romantic comedy. It feels like the end of a drama. It feels like the beginning of the end.
His shoulders drop, so do his hands - they keep shaking, but there's no gesturing. Just... defeat.
"...no." He finally manages to answer with a weak, pathetic voice. "I never said that." This is the worst way to confess his feelings; it goes against everything he is. "But I have the feeling that's not all you're asking."
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She stands up and goes to him. In public probably isn’t the greatest place for this conversation, but it’s too late for that.
“You’re saying that you’re falling in love with me too, I think, so yes, of course I want more than sex with you. Why is that so bad, Jaskier? Don’t we make each other happy, even outside the bedroom?”
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She comes to him, and he steps back, only one thing echoing in his brain: told you so in the voice of a certain witcher. His hands continue to open and close as he fights the urge to reach out for her. He doesn't want to lose her - at least, not like this. He was supposed to watch her find the love of her life slowly and be genuinely happy for her.
This isn't him singing at her wedding; this is her organizing his funeral.
"You do make me happy, and for me, that's enough. I like my freedom. I like waking up in the morning and choosing to leave for a week with Geralt to follow trails of wyvern crap on the mountains without having to explain myself to anyone."
His voice is starting to rise, frustration and heartbreak forming a hurricane of emotions in his chest that has been enhanced by the conversation with Lenny.
"I make you happy for now. Because I'm the new and exciting bloke bored housewives have fun with. But I'm not a husband, I'm not the estimable man that good girls take home to their parents." He raises a hand, as if anticipating what she may say. "And don't you fucking dare say we already did that, because we both know how that ended. I can behave for survival, I did it for years in court-- but I refuse to 'behave'-" He signs the quotation marks. "-in my fucking private life! What exactly do you think would happen if you took the real me to one of your religious holiday dinners?"
no subject
“Is that why you think I’m with you, because I’m a bored housewife? Jaskier, it didn’t go well with my parents because they could tell we were lying. They knew we were more than just friends. You hardly even gave them a chance. The first sign of them disagreeing with you about something and you went off.
This isn’t about my parents though. It’s about us. I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m just asking to be enough for you.”
Why does it feel like she’s never enough for anyone?
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He starts pacing as he runs his hands through his hair and drags them down his face, smearing the makeup. It matches his heartbroken face and the way his stomach keeps turning. Gosh, he better not throw up in the middle of this.
"You already are enough!" He exclaims as he opens his arms. "You're the one asking for more!"
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Midge watches him looking distraught, and she can’t help but wonder why he seems to be fighting himself on this. Is it because he thinks he’s about to lose the sex?
“I’m asking you to only be with me.” Midge says, blinking away the tears that are forming in her eyes. “And the fact that you don’t want to can only mean that I’m not enough for you. Even if you’re falling in love with me too, it still isn’t enough for some reason.”
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Jaskier wants to add more, but then he turns around and sees her crying. He deflates and hates himself, which isn't fair, because he warned her about this, over and over and over... and yet, here he is, being the bad guy. Just like everyone predicted. Joel will probably gloat, the bastard.
"I already told you the reason many a time. I warned you before either of us developed any feelings. Hell, I'll eat my sheet music if Geralt hasn't warned you too! How could it be you when I explained everything the day we fucking met?" He drags his hands down his face again. He wishes he could rip his heart out of his chest and put it in her hands just to prove his words - and mayhaps because it would hurt less. "It's not you - you're an amazing woman who deserves a man that will meet your every need. That will make you and your kids truly happy. I am not that man, Midge."
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“Things change, Jaskier. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, and I’m sure you didn’t expect it either.” Midge shakes her head, wiping tears from her cheeks. “You don’t want to be that man, and that’s fine. I shouldn’t have expected that you would change for me. That was my mistake.”
Turning back to the couch, Midge shoves the drawing into her notebook, then picks it up along with her purse.
“I guess this is goodbye, then,” she says between sobs, “because I can’t do this anymore if I have to keep lying to everyone about how I feel about you.”
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"I TRIED to be that man in the past!" he snaps. He feels so fucking bad for making her cry, but he also feels bad for feeling bad - this isn't his fault. Why is he the bad guy here? "It does NOT work. I'm pretty fucking sure I shared that too." Another huff. "I thought you liked me for who I am. Yet all this time, you've been expecting me to change?" He shakes his head. "See, this is exactly what I'm talking about."
Tears appear in his eyes, too. Seeing her pick up her things makes it all more real - it's the final nail in the coffin. Jaskier swallows a sob.
"I'm guessing being literal friends wouldn't be enough either?" Because he would be fine with that. He can have sex somewhere else, her company is special. He hangs his head. "Goodbye, Miriam."
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She feels like she misread everything from him, and that makes her feel like a fool. Her heart feels like it’s literally breaking in her chest.
“I-I don’t know,” she says, still crying. “I need some time. Goodbye, Jaskier.”
Midge brushes past him to exit the club. The only sounds in the room are her gentle sobs and the clicking of her heels on the floor.
Perdita watches as Midge leaves, then sticks her head in the door to yell at Jaskier. “Go after her, you idiot!”
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I’m weak, my love, and I am wanting
Jaskier collapses on the couch and cries his heart out. He doesn't even register Perdita's voice, not that he would've followed her command if he had. Moments later, a thick pale hand is petting his head. Perdita must've called him.
"Don't you dare fucking say it."
"Mmh."
He asks Geralt to drive him around the city for a few hours, even if it's late. He claims he needs the distraction and the fresh air, which isn't a completely bad idea, but mostly he wants an excuse to hold his best friend for a while.
The family works together to hide all the alcohol in the house. Bastards.
It's a good thing that he's been so busy lately, because he needs those things to keep him distracted. Ironically, one of those things is the rehearsal for the wedding. Jaskier doesn't cancel it - he needs such a gig, and he won't take this away from the band. Heartbreak makes the ballads sound better anyway.
A different man fucks him every night, because he knows that he'll need some time before he'll be able to pick up a woman without thinking about her. And being pounded into oblivion is part of the not thinking process - or it should be, anyway. It's not the same. There's no spark. He wants his lovely, witty spark back.
If orgasms won't silence his brain, then he'll get the alcohol (and the mushrooms) himself. That's how, on Tuesday evening, Geralt will be carrying an unconscious Jaskier on his back out of a bar. He's done this many times before and knows how to fit the bard perfectly between his shoulder blades.