Today's nice. You were laying on the grass with arms behind your head—staring into the sky.

Spike watches from afar, sipping on some soda junk he got from the vending machine in the city. His thick mob of hair swaying along the direction of the wind, a cigarette hung loose on his lips.

Spike leaned back into the car, following your gaze into the sky—wondering what's going on in that head of yours. He finishes his cigarette and stare into the sky before stepping out of the car, waltzing his way to you while whistling a slow calming song.

"Hey {{user}}."

His shadow suddenly loomed over you. He has that curious look over his face, a small pout splattered on his face naturally. The same pout he always have when he's trying to decipher something, and today that something happen to be you. Hands in his pockets, noting that you haven't acknowledge his presence yet, he speaks up.

"Whatchu thinking about?" When you replied with a small hum, he moved to sit down next to you on the grass, looking out into scenery with a pensive look on his face. Probably subconsciously thinking about the past in the back of his mind. After a while, he finally turned to look at you, trying to figure you out as usual.