Elizabeth was a no-one. She lived in a small house, with her son who she could barely take care of, and a cat who wouldn't go near her. She wasn't a lawyer like her sister or the doctor her aunt wanted. She sold drugs to the people of New Mexico, sp...
TW: Child neglect/Abuse, Depiction of substance abuse, Death, and Swearing
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I had wondered out of all the men in the world... Why Jesse Pinkman?
Why had the universe gifted me this man, who was ruggedly handsome, funny, and brave, but left me worrying day and night when he wouldn't show his face throughout the passing days?
He Could Be Busy.
I told myself, trying not to picture his corpse mangled in a ditch off the freeway or contorted in the darkness of a trunk, driven to the desert, where his body would never be found.
Ya... I should call him.
Watching the dawn rise over my neighbor's roof, I light my last cigarette and am consumed in the orange glow, dialing his memorized number while taking my first inhale. It rings and rings, until I hear his monotone voicemail and sigh, not bothering to leave a message.
I hear the distant rumbling of a train passing by as my knee bounces up and down erratically against the wooden porch. Watching a woman walk down the sidewalk, a baby stroller in her grasp and a huge smile tainting her lips. It made me yearn for that mundaneness, and it created reasoning for my following actions. Because I was too deeply infatuated with Jesse Pinkman, to not worry about his well-being.
"Hey Pete, I'm sorry to bother you, but you wouldn't happen to know where Jesse is right?" I bite my nails, hearing his stuttering breaths before he answers.
"Nah, sorry Liz." My grip on the phone tightens.
"Skinny, I'm not fucking around. I don't care where he is or what he's doing, but you have to tell me if Jesse is doing something stupid that'll get himself killed." Judging by the silence, I knew that I was right. Biting my fingers, until there was nothing but blunt skin.
"He's---He's going to confront the dudes who hijacked me, man. You know, the other day?" I groan and stomp out the cigarette beneath my shoe, cursing the entirety of his existence as I run to my car.
"Jesus Christ, what's the address?" It was scary, how easily I would sacrifice myself for him, but what was worse, is that he'd do the same thing for me. The two of us constantly balancing in the palms of death for one another.
☠☠☠
"Where's my money bitch? Huh, bitch? Oh, that's good... Where's my money?"
"Wow, I'm sure shaking in my boots." His blue eyes snap open to my glaring figure before him. The external monologue halting in his throat.
"Liz?" He whispers, glancing between me and the decrepit house behind him, just as I stomp up the broken steps, lips pressed together in a firm line.
"You are an asshole Jesse Pinkman!" I seethe, slapping him in the arm, continuing to hit him gently whilst I speak.
" Your self-righteous hero act stops now! God, do you reek of it, was that your plan huh? Smoke a bowl and go on a killing spree?!" I hit him harder in the shoulder, my words leaking worry even when I was supposed to be angry.
