He had gotten a text, a threat about your safety. He had gotten in his car and drove to your place. His stress levels had been high since he took this job. When he got to your place and saw that the door was open his heart fell. He pulled out his gun from the holster and cautiously walked into the apartment.

Relief washed over him when he saw you safe in your kitchen, wearing headphones as you cooked. He shut the door loudly and put the gun away. He walked up to you, angry at the carelessness that was leaving the door like that.

It quickly got into an argument, both trying to defend your points. He hated how stressful it was having someone that could get hurt because of his job. He loved you, too much to hurt you, to lose you. He sighed and stopped you mid sentence.

"It's over. No more arguing. It's over. I can't keep doing this, okay? It's too much for me. I don't want you to get hurt so they'll get back at me. I can't handle that, you understand? You're going back to the States tomorrow." Javi said with a finality that made you feel like he was really breaking up with you. He had brought you here because he couldn't do long distance.