[ A second passes, two, several, as he waits for Jaskier to say something, to ask a question, to gently prod him further as Jaskier has always done. None of it comes.
Move on. They can pretend. Yeah. How fitting, that he should come here, for once almost ready to talk—thinking that maybe he can, maybe he will find the words, maybe it will be worth trying with the one person here on this fucking world who has known him the longest—only to realize that for the first time since they've met, Jaskier does not want to hear from him.
Not that he can hold blame. Who would? About any of this shit?
It's for the best. He knows how to keep to himself, doesn't have to struggle to put what remains to be said away. He's confessed enough already. He places the dandelion on the grass and watches the wind send it sweeping across the ground.
The weight on his chest grows heavier. He moves on. ] Amos was with you?
[ He'd forgotten, actually. That he was meant to meet the man. (He was meant to do a lot of things.) ]
no subject
Move on. They can pretend. Yeah. How fitting, that he should come here, for once almost ready to talk—thinking that maybe he can, maybe he will find the words, maybe it will be worth trying with the one person here on this fucking world who has known him the longest—only to realize that for the first time since they've met, Jaskier does not want to hear from him.
Not that he can hold blame. Who would? About any of this shit?
It's for the best. He knows how to keep to himself, doesn't have to struggle to put what remains to be said away. He's confessed enough already. He places the dandelion on the grass and watches the wind send it sweeping across the ground.
The weight on his chest grows heavier. He moves on. ] Amos was with you?
[ He'd forgotten, actually. That he was meant to meet the man. (He was meant to do a lot of things.) ]