[ sam does pick up on the not-eye-roll, does feel the acceptance of the situation in the other man. there is something else, too, that he thinks he might notice going on behind those gold eyes, but he's not one hundred percent sure it isn't just a mixture of pain and potions and whatever else is going on, physically. he files that away for something to keep an eye on, something to check if it's still an issue in twenty-four hours.
( because yes, it could have been much worse. but there can also still be other wounds, other things are not as easily seen. sam knows how this goes, knows how this could get worse if it's not kept in check. )
he does hold out his hand, though, and he does wait for geralt to take it. though it's only when geralt's eyes flick to his hand and there feels to be an almost imperceptible pause that sam gets it - that it hits him like a punch to the gut. the way geralt had offered his own hand, how sam had looked at it, and then away. sam actually flinches at that memory, at his reaction, his part in it, and if geralt notices sam's expression shifts suddenly - guilty, upset, like he's going to apologize again-
but geralt takes his hand. takes it, and let's sam help him to his feet, lifts a brow, makes a joke - and while the feeling isn't gone, necessarily, it's suddenly easier to push down. easier to move through. sam barks out a kind of laugh, his own brow lifting. ] You think I can carry you? That's cute- that's real cute. Yeah, no, but if you make me I will drag your ass to bed. [ except that sam says all of this while he is immediately stepping into geralt's side - a hand out to steady him, if he needs it. tries to kind of guide geralt's arm over his shoulders, for support, because yes - while sam won't carry him, he's definitely there to help. ] If you want to be princess carried you have to give me at least a few months' notice. I have not been weight training enough for you.
[ and because geralt did not answer which means sam gets to make the decision. ] Now let's go, big guy- bed.
no subject
( because yes, it could have been much worse. but there can also still be other wounds, other things are not as easily seen. sam knows how this goes, knows how this could get worse if it's not kept in check. )
he does hold out his hand, though, and he does wait for geralt to take it. though it's only when geralt's eyes flick to his hand and there feels to be an almost imperceptible pause that sam gets it - that it hits him like a punch to the gut. the way geralt had offered his own hand, how sam had looked at it, and then away. sam actually flinches at that memory, at his reaction, his part in it, and if geralt notices sam's expression shifts suddenly - guilty, upset, like he's going to apologize again-
but geralt takes his hand. takes it, and let's sam help him to his feet, lifts a brow, makes a joke - and while the feeling isn't gone, necessarily, it's suddenly easier to push down. easier to move through. sam barks out a kind of laugh, his own brow lifting. ] You think I can carry you? That's cute- that's real cute. Yeah, no, but if you make me I will drag your ass to bed. [ except that sam says all of this while he is immediately stepping into geralt's side - a hand out to steady him, if he needs it. tries to kind of guide geralt's arm over his shoulders, for support, because yes - while sam won't carry him, he's definitely there to help. ] If you want to be princess carried you have to give me at least a few months' notice. I have not been weight training enough for you.
[ and because geralt did not answer which means sam gets to make the decision. ] Now let's go, big guy- bed.