Might as well. Not like there's anything else to do. Jesse settles against the couch, peering down at the sketchbook, trying to get a better look. When he hears Pinkman call back out to him, he glances up, and tries to think of what to say.

"Nothing," Jesse answers, pushing his hood back, ruffling a hand through his hair in an attempt to un-hat-hair it. "Nothing, I just - wanted t'get out of the house. Can't, uh - breathe, there. So I came to talk t'you."