Vladimir seemed nervous, to say the least, the feeling was a tense energy vibrating in the soldier’s head and he let out a breath to distance himself so the reaper’s emotions would not overtake his own.
The words were startling and yet not, he had heard similar admissions before, yet he had not expected such actions from the man who stood  before him looking so very bothered, though Maurice could not tell if it was admitting the crime or the crime in and of itself.
“You think?” he asked, finding that confirming the events first before making any conclusions would be the best way to go about it.
“I-I don’t know.” Concern furrowed deep into Vlad’s brow; his gaze, imbued with unadulterated horror, locked with Mau’s silver irises. He could feel panic thudding violently within his chest; his pulse rising, throat tightening.
Phasing a hand back through his silvery hair, Vlad closed his eyes as he exhaled a quivering breath. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest, Vlad opened his eyes again; casting Mau an imploring glance. “I drink. Perhaps more than necessary. Perhaps more than one should. But I went to bed. Everything was fine. I..” Vlad tightened his jaw; curling his fingers into his upper arms.
“I woke up.. Mau.. I bleed black and the blood on my hands, the blood that was everywhere.. it wasn’t mine. I wasn’t even home. I wasn’t even in my bed.”
