[See, he likes to think he's done a rather good job of -- er, not hiding it, exactly, but making himself scarce. Unfortunately, doing so is only making more of a mark that something is clearly. Different.

Perhaps playing Burn is not... the most subtle thing he could've done. But gods, the energy of it. He needs that.

What he does not need is Hector -- fucking, how could he forget Hector? -- startling him, because he is not used to it. For so long, no one sought him out. Not as Jaskier.

He holds a hand over his heart, smoothing down his ruffled chemise.] Ah, Hector! It's -- no, no, of course not. [Oh, fuck. That sounds suspicious. And it's so far from the real problem.] It's... nothing. Just a spot of heartbreak in the past I was. Mulling over. [Without a pause, and perhaps with a hint of wine to his breath, he takes Hector by the shoulders. Oh. Lovely and real. Still very well muscled under those clothes.] It feels like ages since I've seen you.

[His words are quiet. Like a year and then some, and yet -- no time has really passed, has it?]