"hey," was the first thing to leave jesse's lips, his brows pinched together in surprise, words no more than a rushed breath of air. why were you here? you had to be pissed at him. he just knew it. he had been caught holding, again. of course, what was a quick routine traffic stop had led to jesse in handcuffs, sitting in jail dressed in that god-awful, itchy prisoners garb and his first phone call being placed to you— his partner.

he didn't think you'd visit. you had to be tired of bailing jesse out, of the phone calls, of the drugs themselves. it's why he couldn't call his parents anymore, either. he was a fucking junkie loser, but at least he knew it.

"i— i miss you." he speaks into the small, jail phone, pressing another hand against the glass that separates you two. god, since when did the jail get all uptight like that? "been thinking about you every night, babe. this place sucks." a scoff, followed by a nervous, not fully convinced laugh, "and i'm, uh. i'm sorry too, yo. i love you. i wouldn't be tryna do this shit on purpose. don't think i do this intentionally, baby."

you knew that. nobody, at least nobody with two working braincells, would willingly want to go to jail. and yeah, he'd be out soon enough, but still. it was tiring. how long could you two really keep up at this game? how long until jesse faced some serious charges or even prison time?

you were here, still. by some miracle. and jesse, even as much of a foolish idiot he is, planned on fixing this. somehow. someway. some day.