Breaking Love (Walter White X Reader)

Chapter 2

About 30 minutes or so after your conversation with Skylar White, dinner was done. The table had been set, and in the middle was the spaghetti that was spoken about earlier. You were sat between Skylar and Walt, they faces each other, while your back was to the sliding glass door. One spot was empty, which you assumed was were the son would be sitting if he were here. As if Skylar could read your mind, she mentioned to Walter that their son was at a friends house and would not be joining them. That was a mental sigh of relief. 

You really didn't want a Whites family reunion at the moment. It was already awkward enough with the two. Your mouth watered at the sight of the spaghetti that was in the center of the table. You didn't want to seem desperate, so you stayed still until the older adults got their share first. 

It had been months since you had a home cooked meal. You and Jesse always opted for take out, or better yet Funyuns. This was also a safety precaution since the two of you also happened to be under the influence quite often. Probably wouldn't be the smartest for two junkies to navigate a stove while high. 

You sat politely as Walt finished plating his dinner. You were about to grab the tongs out of the bowl, when Mr. White took your plate, and put a little pile of the noodles on the white ceramic. You were slightly taken aback at the action. It would seem a little silly, but this was an act of kindness that you were rarely on the receiving end of.

The older man sat the plate back down in front of you. A hint of red graced your cheeks, you head hung slightly as you slouched inwardly before muttering a quiet, "Thanks. . ."

Skylar kept her eyes down on her plate, it was as if she was trying to pretend you weren't in the same room as her and her husband. 

You dug into the noodles, wanting to eat as quick as possible so you could leave as soon as possible. The first bite had you seeing stars. You coudn't help but gasp, causing the two older people at the table to turn toward the location of the noise. 

You had your eyes closed as you continued to chew and swallow. You gulped then opened your eyes, to see the couple staring at you, bewildered. 

You covered your mouth, eyes wide, cheeks flaming hot with embaressment. 

"I-Im so sorry. . . I-I don't even know what to say.  . ." You look down and wring your hands together. 

"I-It's just been so long since I've had such a delicious meal. . . I forgot what it was like."

You sat for minute after you spoke. No on spoke, or moved to keep eating. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Beginning to scoot your chair out, you felt pressure on your shoulder causing you to stop in your tracks. You whipped your head to the left side to see what was causing the feeling on your arm. 

Shock set in as you saw Mr. White's big hand on your petite shoulder. 

"I'm glad you enjoy the food so much. . . Skylar is the best cook in this house, hands down."

Skylar didn't reply, she just continued on eating her dinner; seemingly at a faster pace. 

'Looks like she's pulling of my method of trying to end the worlds most awkward dinner.'

Ten long minutes later, the dinner was finally over. 

You were exhausted to say the least. The adrenaline and emotions coursing through your body earlier, finally lessened, causing you to slump where you sat. You were waiting for Mr. White to finish up the dishes. Mrs. White left as soon as she was done eating, taking an entire bottle and glass of wine with her. 

Your eyes drooped. Memories of Jesse flooded your mind as your body ebbed in and out of consciousness. 

Walter was drying off the excess water droplets that were on his hands and forearms. He oriented towards the dinner table where he left you. He drew a breath ready to begin talking to you, but held his tongue at what he saw.

Your forehead rested on the table, and the older man could hear light snores coming from you. A twinge of sympathy worked its way through his body. 

This was a long day for you. Walt failed to realize how draining it was for you; only focusing on how Jesse's death affected him. He lost his main cook. . . His best cook. Now he was stuck with you. 

He was pretty butthurt. He could toss you aside and find someone else, but something in the back of his mind stopped him from doing so. 

You were a lot like Jesse. 

Easy to manipulate for Walter's gain. You followed Jesse like a lost dog. Walt thought it was pretty pathetic, he couldn't help but roll his eyes anytime you opened your mouth, or even stood close to him, examining the cook. 

Why he invited you over in the first place, he wanted to begin molding you to become the next Jesse. Having you do his bidding, while he sat to the side, not a care in the world. 

But. . .

In this moment, all he could do was stare at the sight before him. He can't remember the last time he felt this way. Sympathy was a strange feeling. He felt little of it throughout his life. 

He felt sympathy for the first time his son went to school, knowing he would get bullied for the disability he was cursed with since the beginning of life. He felt sympathy for Skylar and having to deal with an unplanned pregnancy, but he got over that relatively quick, realizing he was the one that was going to pick up the extra slack with bills. 

The last time he felt sympathy was when he realized it was his doing that brought Jesse to an early grave. He dwelled on it for sometime, until the end of the service today, where he was able to put it behind him. He didn't even show up. He didn't want to dwell on the burden any longer. 

But now, seeing you passed out at the table, awakened something in him. 

He walked softly up to where you slept. He saw tear tracks marked down your face, and bags under your eyes. You looked exhausted. Like you haven't gotten a single moment since this whole ordeal to relax. 

He saw how venerable you truly were in this moment. 

He mulled over his options. 

On one hand, he could use this vulnerability and mold you to the perfect pupil. 

On the other hand. . .

~To Be Continued~