Red Is The Color Of Our Lives (And Red Is The Color Of Our Blood)

Guilt

'guilt
/ɡilt/
noun
the fact of having committed a specified or implied offense or crime.'

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You didn't know what was worse at the moment. Either the fact that the giant of a man, otherwise known as your royal pain in the ass: König, was in the infirmary and basically one word, 'bitchy.'

Or the fact that there now was a massive bruise on your back from the event that had just taken place not even 12 hours ago that now had 'you making a face,' as Soap had quoted.

You scoffed as you marched right past the infirmary, hearing German grumbles from the only German speaking one on base that you were aware of that was in the infirmary.

König.

After the ordeal on the plane and the mission, he ignored you once he came too.
Brushing your words of concern and then your help as a mere chip on his shoulder.

Fucking asshole.

You shuffled to your room with a scowl visibly displayed. everyone else had left the debriefing slowly, but once you had been checked out and given the green light by the doctor on base for the time being,  and had been excused by Laswell and Price from the debriefing, you flew out of there like smoke was coming out of your ass.

You had showered, and  now you just ached for sleep. Not even that, your body cried for it in every step, and as soon as you stepped foot into your room..

You collapsed onto your cot..

You were tired. 

So fucking tired.

Your eyes burned, and a lump felt itself starting to well up in your throat, making it hard to breathe.

Sucking in a hard and almost painful breath, you ran your hands to your face, trying to rub the burning sensation  out of your eyes, to prevent tears from falling.

You felt like shit.

But the blankets..like a nest foundes for comfort..

Like water to a flame that needed to be put out..

Shaking.

With a frustrated hiss, you settled..your body ached and felt like shit....and you were so... so tired.
And yourself peeling at the seams...
Thankfully....there wasn't another mission until two weeks' time...
Enough time to pull yourself back together...to you again...

'Well, that is if there even was a you.'

Scoffing at the melodramatic thought, you heard footsteps practically stalk sway into silent ringing air as you finally found the strength to stand again.

You could only groan in satisfaction as your body practice melded with the blanket nest you had created and felt your hand fumble with your phone as you got it on the charger...and your eyes grew heavy as you settled..and drifted to sleep....