Get over it

*Tatum*

I see Maverick’s outline, the general size of his imposing figure as I look up at him, unwilling to pull myself out of bed. I killed someone. An actual living, breathing person with a life and friends. I didn’t just kill him; I laid in his entrails and was showered in his blood like some sick fucking right of warrior passage. One I didn’t ask for.

“Are you in pain?” He asks softly.

I shake my head no. I was fortunate enough to not have any serious injuries, other than a chewed up ankle, the rest of my cuts and bruises have already healed. The healer even took the time to wrap my ankle in some type of leaves with some herbs that have taken my pain away.

“Then why the hell are you crying?” Maverick asks. There is an edge to his voice, almost as if he is angry with me, and it only makes my lips quiver as more tears flood down my cheek. These damn emotions, these damn eyes.

“I killed someone.” I whisper, guilt sliding up my spine and making me shudder. I can still smell him on m