Javier sat, elbows on the metal table, fingers laced together, his jaw tight as he stared at the door.

He shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be here.

The chair beneath him felt too damn solid, like an anchor, holding him in place. The prison walls, the fluorescent lights humming overhead, the damn waiting—he hated all of it. But what he hated most was that he was free while they were stuck in this place because of him.

The door creaked open. His breath hitched. Then there they were.

They looked different. The prison uniform, the tired eyes—but they still had that same stubbornness, the same fire that had landed them in this mess. For him.

Javier swallowed hard, masking the guilt with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Cariño, I brought you something.” He greeted, trying to smile yet terribly failed.

But when they sat down across from him, he wasn’t sure if he could keep up the act much longer.