Not to jab. I was gonna see if they have potions. [ but then sam sees the tightness, the curt response he gives. he watches it for another moment, as if just to make sure it’s really it, before he lets out a long breath and sits back in his chair - deciding, after all that, to give up on the entire point. if geralt says he’s fine, and after all jaskier and he did, he can only hope he’s okay enough to not need it.
at geralt’s response to the crystal, though, sam snorts a little. it’s tired, and a little worn thin, but it’s there. an acknowledgement of how they met, the nightmares of the caves, the shared memories they both took from each other. ] Okay, fair. I still would have tried to give it to you. [ and he’s smiling, just a bit, at the mention of it. the echo of a shared conversation, a shared space. it also means sam’s eyes are on geralt when geralt’s flicker over to him. means he sees the way they barely soften, the uncertainty that underlines the look.
you’ve done more than enough, geralt says, and sam’s eyes drop to the floor between them - the smile dropping away to an uncertain press of his lips. guilt curls away at his gut, tightening, uncomfortable. sam runs a hand along the back of his neck, pulls it over his head. his voice, when he speaks, sounds a bit like sam is trying to laugh, or trying to push one out, even when it falls short. ]
Yeah, well, it never feels like it.
[ never feels like enough, never feels like anything. even when he knows that’s not true, that it means something that geralt is here, at all, but sam still has to work to swallow back the feeling. that he wasn’t there when whatever it was happened, he wasn’t there if it had been bad. that the last time they saw each other, sam hadn’t been able to look him in the eye.
it’d been heavy on his mind for weeks, now. heavy on his chest, his heart. he’d had time to worry, and to process, and to get upset with himself over the fact that he is what brought them to this place.
it’s a few moments later - either of silence, or whatever it is geralt might have filled it with - before sam sits up, specifically looks over to geralt, to get his eyes. there’s a specific look in sam’s eyes when he finds it, a moment of serious consideration before a softening, himself. ]
I’m sorry. [ the words feel heavy, in the air. and then once they’re out there, sam seems to almost deflate, his shoulders falling where he sits. ] For how- for- [ for how i freaked out is what sam means to say, but the words get caught on his tongue. sam presses his mouth together, reconsidering. resetting. ] I’m just sorry.
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at geralt’s response to the crystal, though, sam snorts a little. it’s tired, and a little worn thin, but it’s there. an acknowledgement of how they met, the nightmares of the caves, the shared memories they both took from each other. ] Okay, fair. I still would have tried to give it to you. [ and he’s smiling, just a bit, at the mention of it. the echo of a shared conversation, a shared space. it also means sam’s eyes are on geralt when geralt’s flicker over to him. means he sees the way they barely soften, the uncertainty that underlines the look.
you’ve done more than enough, geralt says, and sam’s eyes drop to the floor between them - the smile dropping away to an uncertain press of his lips. guilt curls away at his gut, tightening, uncomfortable. sam runs a hand along the back of his neck, pulls it over his head. his voice, when he speaks, sounds a bit like sam is trying to laugh, or trying to push one out, even when it falls short. ]
Yeah, well, it never feels like it.
[ never feels like enough, never feels like anything. even when he knows that’s not true, that it means something that geralt is here, at all, but sam still has to work to swallow back the feeling. that he wasn’t there when whatever it was happened, he wasn’t there if it had been bad. that the last time they saw each other, sam hadn’t been able to look him in the eye.
it’d been heavy on his mind for weeks, now. heavy on his chest, his heart. he’d had time to worry, and to process, and to get upset with himself over the fact that he is what brought them to this place.
it’s a few moments later - either of silence, or whatever it is geralt might have filled it with - before sam sits up, specifically looks over to geralt, to get his eyes. there’s a specific look in sam’s eyes when he finds it, a moment of serious consideration before a softening, himself. ]
I’m sorry. [ the words feel heavy, in the air. and then once they’re out there, sam seems to almost deflate, his shoulders falling where he sits. ] For how- for- [ for how i freaked out is what sam means to say, but the words get caught on his tongue. sam presses his mouth together, reconsidering. resetting. ] I’m just sorry.