[ His fingers only burrow deeper in Jaskier's hair. He likes it, he decides. He likes the longer locks that let him grip and twist his fingers into. Should've grown it out sooner, really.
There is a noise of protest—a low rumble of a sigh—but it's more instinctive than anything as he's left wanting. More. He's not so impatient that he demands anything otherwise, though. There's time tonight, time he is willing to share with the bard. He cups Jaskier's face, traces that soft jawline with his thumb, and kisses him first. Because he can, because he wants to, and because he feels a curl of something fragile inside his chest. He trails his nails over the scar that travels up Jaskier's arm before he simply turns over.
With the last of what's on his back healed, it's entirely uncovered. His skin's hardly been unmarked in the first place; there's just more of them now, the sharp lashes added to his collection and that thick line down his back. How it always goes. Not only for him, for a Witcher, but for all of them. Everything they've survived, they carry with them for the rest of their days. Reminders, perhaps, that they did survive.
It's enough, to live and have the chance to carry on. Even if it sometimes doesn't feel enough, it is. It has to be. ]
no subject
There is a noise of protest—a low rumble of a sigh—but it's more instinctive than anything as he's left wanting. More. He's not so impatient that he demands anything otherwise, though. There's time tonight, time he is willing to share with the bard. He cups Jaskier's face, traces that soft jawline with his thumb, and kisses him first. Because he can, because he wants to, and because he feels a curl of something fragile inside his chest. He trails his nails over the scar that travels up Jaskier's arm before he simply turns over.
With the last of what's on his back healed, it's entirely uncovered. His skin's hardly been unmarked in the first place; there's just more of them now, the sharp lashes added to his collection and that thick line down his back. How it always goes. Not only for him, for a Witcher, but for all of them. Everything they've survived, they carry with them for the rest of their days. Reminders, perhaps, that they did survive.
It's enough, to live and have the chance to carry on. Even if it sometimes doesn't feel enough, it is. It has to be. ]