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Prompt 122

In place of August Tenth, Promptapalooza 3/ Geralt and Jaskier are traveling through faewood. They can tell it's faewood because the trees glittered and sang about how much closer the two would be if they just told the truth. The woods went back to normal afterward but it was kind of a giveaway. Jaskier starts playing some mindless melodies on his lute as they walk, only for Geralt to suddenly snarl a bit and turn to look at him. "Can you stop playing, Jaskier? I can't hear my self loathing thoughts when you play." They both stare in shock at each other. "That's not what I meant to say." Geralt states, awkwardly. "Do you often think bad of yourself?..." "All the time." "Me too." Geralt frowns. Geralt is a monster. He's a witcher. He's killed so many. Jaskier is perfect. Jaskier is sweet and kind and lovely. What can he hate about himself? "Geralt, please don't ask-" "What do you think about?" They say at the same time. "You'll leave me. You hate me. You'll find me annoying. You'll find me too loud. You'll never love me as I love you. I love you, Geralt. So much. I desire nothing but your arms around me at night, a kiss between us, you telling me I'm worth something to y-" Jaskier slaps his hands over his mouth and glances away. The trees giggle, and Geralt almost wants to launch a sword into the canopies just to fix the horrified expression on his bard's face.