It wasn't impossible to surprise a witcher. Just very hard to do so. In his life, Geralt could admit to being the victim of a few of them, good and bad. He learned to roll with the punches and be quick on his feet to keep himself alive. But nothing that he could remember stunned him as much as those three words that came out of the bard's mouth.
I love you-
The strange thing was, it hurt to hear it. In a beautiful way that untwisted the knots he'd pulled so tightly around his heart, gods, yes it hurt. But it was also so much more. Only when he replayed their conversation over and over in his head did Geralt realize what happened. Even when he did, it was still hard to believe. But then Jaskier was saying them again! Everything was heavy and light all at once. Love? He couldn't be. Hadn't he sworn to never fall into that trap again?
But here he was looking into the face that had made him break that promise. That bread-in-pants, creepy-doll-collecting, sass-filled wisp of a bard who had somehow got past every thorn-covered wall he'd put up.
"Well I ...I, uh, could think of a few things I could do about it." Geralt rolled them over so that Jaskier was on his back pressed into the bed with Geralt looming over him. He touched Jaskier's cheek softly. "You've made a fool of me, bard. A right 'ol fool in love."