Fandom Imagines and Preferences VI

Jesse Pinkman- Storm (a)

Breaking Bad One Shot

The slightly frayed hem on the curtain ebbed and flowed against the floor, barely getting a chance to rest as Jesse pulled them back, peering out every time he paced against it. Storms were always calming to you, the pitter patter of rain against the long stretches of asphalt, distant and thundering with the occasional elegant forked bolts of lighting that would send dancing shadows across your living room. Jesse however seemed to take a different approach to dealing with the storm, you curled under a blanket and picked out a book to delve into for the night, Jesse paced up and down, wearing a path in the same three foot long stretch of laminate flooring beside the window.

"How long is this shit supposed to last?" He ran his hands through his recently trimmed hair and again pulled back the curtain, as if he didn't want the storm to see him back. He gazed out for a moment, seeming calmer than before until a strong bolt of lightning struck the ground much closer to the others, it seemed like it was only a few hundred metres away at most and it was enough to send Jesse jumping away from the window. "I can't deal with this... you know how much I hate fucking storms."

"Why are you telling me like I'm going to be able to do something about it? Just find a way to distract yourself... I know that isn't going to be a book but go and do some drawing or whatever." His eye crept over the curtain as he pulled it back for what felt like the hundredth time, after all he did have to make sure the weather wasn't going to creep up on him.

"I don't know where any of my drawing stuff is and the stupid powers out. Isn't there just some switch or something so that we can fix the power cut?"

"Not quite how a power cut works, we just have to wait for the storm to be over and chances are there's a line down or something." Deep under the sofa where you lay was Jesses art supplies, his old notebooks and his limited collection of pencils, of which he refused to buy new ones. "Here." You leant down and slid them out.

"Why are you hiding my shit from me?" He scooped them up and held them close as another rumble of thunder shook him.

"I'm not! You put them there so nobody finds them, no matter how much I tell you not to be embarrassed about a hobby." He gave the storm one last suspecting eye before asking you to move your legs.

"You normally draw on the table, there's some more candles in the draw under the sink, take mine and bring it back once you found them."

"I don't want to, I want to be with you... I'm not scared or anything... I just think we should spend more time together."

~*~

Written by Aaron.